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before parting her flesh. She felt his length
sliding, playing with the idea of penetrating her.
    Angling to allow him entry, Toryn grabbed her
hips and steadied her. "Slow," he reminded her.
    If it were up to her, she would have pounced
on him immediately and ridden him into the grave like he was the
last cowboy on earth. But they were supposed to take it slow. To
remain as tame as possible.
    Enjoying the feel of him across her body, she
conceded, wanting anything. Any little brush of his fingers, swipe
of his tongue.
    Though Toryn had endeavored to be the strong
one, he was clearly outmatched by Andi's wiles. There was no
cloaking the effect she had on him. And no point fighting the
inevitable outcome. For once, however, Toryn didn't mind
losing.
    Running his chin across the nape of her neck,
he smelled a hint of her fruity shampoo mixed with eagerness and
heat.
    Crossing his arms around her chest, pulling
her into his, they closed their eyes as he entered her. At his
word, Toryn's girth slid inside of her like a whisper on the wind.
Andi had all but forgotten her earlier urge to thrust and gyrate.
Rather, she focused on the way his body filled her to the brink, on
the way his arms held her close, on the sound of his breathing just
behind her left ear, rugged and shallow.
    She leaned into him, allowing her knees and
Toryn's powerful thighs to cradle her weight. Each minute spawned a
new sensation, sending Andi's neurons reveling. Was it possible for
his touch to grow sweeter as well as ever more dynamic? As her hips
twisted, he knew right where to thrust to cause a burst of pleasure
from her loins.
    Reaching her arms above her, she ran her
hands through his hair and down his shoulders. Her nails played
between languorous and frenzied across his flesh, depending on the
rhythm Toryn assumed. The heat of his body behind her drove Andi
wild. As did his tightening embrace. In the arms of any other, it
may have felt oppressive, abrasive. But not with Toryn. She felt
necessary, coveted. He very much expressed his sentiments in
physical love letters, sometimes in the form of a light touch, or
maybe a graze of his cheek against hers. Words were unnecessary
when he used such lyrical movements. The world could be struck mute
and it would not be able to quiet Toryn's desires.
    Unable to hold back any longer, Toryn's grip
tightened, his breath raced. And as his hips worked harder,
plunging himself into her, their flesh smacking together, Andi
climbed with him. Her heart hurried, fluttering under the pressure
of their unreleased pleasure. Just as she began to worry that
Toryn's advice to rest had fallen on reckless ears, her most
sensitive parts began to quiver and shudder, dragging forth a moan
of relief from Toryn's throat.
    They collapsed over the sofa, satiated.
    "How are you feeling?" Toryn managed to
ask.
    "Bizarre. Extraordinary."
    He actually had the candor to laugh softly
against her back. "Of course. I should stop underestimating
you."
    Pulling himself free, he leaned onto his
shins as Andi gathered enough composure to walk to the bathroom.
She hopped in the shower quickly, and when she emerged, found Toryn
trying to rest on the settee.
    "Why do you possess such tiny furniture? Are
human men small enough to fit on this? I think not."
    Laughing, she dried her hair between the
edges of the towel.
    "It's supposed to be like that. They are used
in smaller spaces where regular couches won't fit. And they look
cuter."
    Andi noted how he did not grunt his approval
this time.
    "And the illusion of a fire. What is that?"
He pointed to the gas logs.
    She shrugged. "Safety. Laziness. Cleanliness.
Take your pick."
    A loud noise from downstairs jarred them back
to reality. Andi had nearly forgotten about the otherworldly storm
brewing around them. That spoke volumes of how Toryn affected
her.
    "What the hell was that?" Andi asked, already
snatching a long-sleeve heather gray T-shirt and dark-wash jeans
out of her dresser.
    Toryn was