Guarding Suzannah

by Norah Wilson

  ~*~

  Twenty minutes later, he covered her naked, sweat-slicked body with his own, pressing her into his extra-firm mattress as he ravaged her mouth for about the millionth time. He lifted his head, gazing down at all that passion distorting her normally cool, beautiful, self-possessed face.

  He trapped her hands high over her head. “This isn’t simple any more. You know that, don’t you?”

  She arched up, nipping at his throat. “I know.”

  “We’re gonna have to talk about it, about what it means for both of us.”

  “I know.”

  She pulled him down again and he forgot about words. Instead, he let his body do the talking, making love to her with a reverence that left her eyes soft and damp and unable to hide the deep emotion there.

  There would be plenty of time for the words, he thought later, as they lay spooned in the deep quiet of the night. They had their whole lives.