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swirled his tongue over the tip.
    Oh wow. The sensations he created were fucking amazing. They registered clear to the back of Gwen’s throat. Her skin flushed with heat, piercing her stupor. She drove her fingers through his hair, clutching it, demanding he remain with her.
    His actions said he wasn’t going anywhere until they were both satisfied.
    How long might that take? A few hours? A day? Week? Month? What happened after it was over?
    Shit, don’t think of that now.
    The bad crap would come later. It always did.
    As though he’d read her thoughts or sensed her body tense, he lifted himself on one elbow and regarded her. Gwen didn’t like the uncertainty she saw on his face. She wanted longing mixed with a whole lot of lust.
    To encourage him, she rubbed her groin against his, surprised she could do so, her ability to move coming back. He got the message quickly from her carnal maneuver, his expression evolving from concerned to just this side of savage.
    Good boy.
    He grabbed his cock, running the crown up and down her damp slit, positioning the meaty head on her opening.
    Gwen gulped air at what was coming. She drew her legs back to give him the greatest access. At her blatant invitation, he offered another smile and pushed inside, entering her in one hard, dominant—
    Huh?
    With a start, Gwen came to. From where? A dream? Nightmare? Perspiration ran down her chest, the chilly air licking it, bringing on a shiver. She stared at her shadowed bedroom, the rectangular designs on the wall from the streetlamp’s glow.
    It was obviously dark outside, still late. Or maybe early. Gwen couldn’t be certain. Panic pumped through her, eating away any residual fatigue.
    Unwilling to look at her clock just yet, she patted the bed linens to her side and felt nothing but cotton sheets, cool to the touch, not warm from a body.
    His.
    Her mouth went dry as images filled her mind of the man outside the hospital carrying her into this house, climbing on the bed, mounting her.
    She saw his hair swinging forward with each powerful thrust. His shoulders and pecs tensing as he pounded into her. Prominent veins corded his throat. Several ran down his biceps to his muscular forearms.
    Swooping down, he slanted his mouth over hers.
    Gwen touched her lips. They were somewhat sore as though from a lingering, impassioned kiss. Her cheeks stung, slightly irritated. From a man’s stubbled cheeks scraping them?
    Shit, she didn’t know, couldn’t be certain. Swallowing hard, she concentrated on her pussy to see if it was—
    Her hand halted on the curls between her legs. She was fucking naked. Hurriedly, she touched various parts of her body, just to be certain of her state, at last searching her neck for where that dart had pierced her skin. Unless that was a dream she’d had.
    Gwen winced when she reached the point of entry. Oh crap, oh damn, oh shit. The surrounding skin was swollen and sore. That fucking thing had hit her. She hadn’t dreamt it.
    As quietly as she could, Gwen pushed to a sitting position and looked over. The numbers on her digital clock glowed red in the gloom. Nearly an hour and a half had passed since she’d left the hospital and all that weird shit that had happened in the alley.
    So what now?
    Steeling herself, she turned and stared at her bath.
    The decorative nightlight was on, its Christmas-tree design a mixture of red, green and silver, casting the room in a festive glow.
    Gwen’s heart banged against her chest. In front of the sink he stood, running a washcloth over his bare arms, as sinewy as she remembered. His naked back was broad and muscled, a male in his prime. He’d pulled his jeans back on and his running shoes, unless he’d never had them off to begin with.
    Her hand dipped down, heading for her cunt, though not yet touching it. Gwen wasn’t certain she wanted indisputable proof that he’d entered her and had climaxed, spilling his ejaculate.
    She held back a nervous groan. At that same moment,