He felt her body clamp down, the velvet sheath spasming, rippling, then gripping and milking. He threw back his head and roared his own release. Around them the insects and frogs ceased their nightly chorus and gave them the floor, the sound of their voices rising in lust and love, mingling together to form a deep harmony.

He buried his face in her neck and held her in his arms, absorbing the form and shape of her, the miracle of her. It had been so long since he’d held her, loved her, taken all that she was and given her everything he was. “I missed you.” It was a ridiculous declaration. “Missed her” didn’t begin to cover at all how he felt. He’d been alone no matter where he was, how many others surrounded him. He could barely breathe without her. But that would be even sillier for him to say.

He trailed kisses along her vulnerable throat, all the while listening to her heartbeat, that racing rhythm so satisfactory to him. She was soft and pliant in his arms, her body melting into his. Joined as they were, he could feel every aftershock and the continual grip and release of her muscles around his shaft. He waited until the shudders had calmed and her breath was nearly under control before he gently pulled away from her encompassing heat and allowed her legs to drop to the ground.

Isabeau swayed in his arms and buried her face against his chest. “It’s not supposed to be like that. I lose myself in you.”

“That makes two of us,” he whispered, his teeth tugging at her earlobe. He loved the way she looked after sex, the slight sheen to her skin, her limp sated body, the glazed look in her eyes. Her mouth was swollen from his kisses and her body was flushed and marked by his. He bent his head to the mark between her shoulder and neck and pressed kisses there until he felt her shiver. “We need to go. We’re close to our destination, Isabeau. A safe place to spend the night.”

She lifted her head and blinked at him. “I can hear the sound of water.”

“We’re going to a waterfall I know of. We need to finish up here, honey,” he prompted.

Isabeau smiled up at him even as she slid down to her knees, her arms using his stronger body for support. The pads of her fingers traced over his flat, hard stomach, along the rigid, defined muscles there and then slid around to his buttocks, massaging as she drew him into her. She looked intensely beautiful, her hair disheveled, spilling around her angelic face, her lashes veiling her eyes, and her hands sweeping up his thighs. Just looking at her with the mist rising around her, caressing her breasts and narrow waist, made him semi-hard all over again.