“More, Rachael, take me deeper, take all of me.” His voice was hoarse and he tilted her hips as he thrust deeper, wanting to bury himself inside her body, inside her sanctuary. He wanted to share her skin, her heart, her very soul. “That’s right, sestrilla, more, take all of me.” He could have wept tears of joy. Everything in him remembered, knew he had come home. He felt her shift, just that tiny bit, felt her take him deeper into her tight sheath. Her muscles gripped and clung and performed an amazing tango of heat and fire on his body. He found a perfect rhythm, surging deep, thrusting hard, immersing, losing himself in a paradise he thought lost to him.

He knew instinctively, or maybe it was a past life together, exactly how to please her. He knew what she wanted, what made her gasp and moan and cling to him. He wanted their first time together to be a memory for both of them. He forced his body under a semblance of control to give her complete satisfaction, driving her up and over the edge again and again until she cried out for mercy. He wanted to give her the perfect joy she gave to him.

Rachael dug her fingernails into Rio’s back, desperate to hold on, to take him with her when she was flying so high. Lights burst behind her eyes. Her body shuddered with pleasure. She felt him swelling even more, growing larger, harder, exploding with life and joy, his growl of sheer pleasure mingling with her own cry.

They lay in the heat of the night, their scents mingling, their hearts racing. Rachael traced one long scar just over his left shoulder with her fingertip while wave after wave rocked her. “How did you get this one?”

He couldn’t move, sweat beading his body. He settled into her, shifting slightly to take some of his weight off of her. “That one was a knife. I was pulling a sixteen-year-old boy out of Tomas’s camp and the kid panicked and ran from me before I could stop him. A guard nabbed him and swung a machete at him.” He nestled his face closer to the warmth of her breast. “That’s where this scar came from.” He showed her his arm and the deep scar running along his forearm. “I was able to save the kid, but a second guard knifed me from behind during the fight. That wasn’t my most shining moment.”

Rachael lifted her head enough to press her mouth to his forearm, her tongue swirling over the long scar. He tasted as if they’d just made love. “And this one?” She reached lower, deliberately sliding her fingertips over his firm buttocks to rest in the small white concave over his left hip. “How did you get this one?”

“A bullet.” He grinned, his breath teasing her nipple into a hard peak. “Obviously I was running.”