Page 35 of Dark Witch: Entangled Fates

They both gasped at the intensity, the incredible feeling of being joined.

The fit was so perfect that she had an absurd thought about Edgar being her promised prince.

He surely looked and made love like one.

Even his weight on top of her felt perfect, his smooth, muscled chest pressing into hers and flattening her breasts. At first, his hips retreated and surged forward slowly and gently, and as he increased the tempo and strength of his thrusts, he did so in small increments as if testing how much she could take.

Did he think she was made of glass?

She was far from delicate, timid, or shy, and she could take much more than what he was giving her.

"More." Jasmine arched up.

He didn't comply right away, exhibiting uncommon and truly admirable restraint as he ramped up his thrusting, and for some reason that brought tears to her eyes.

Well, Jasmine knew precisely why she appreciated that so much. Most of the men she'd been with hadn't been as careful with her, even those she'd been in long-term relationships with, and this stranger was gentler than those who had claimed to love her.

Pausing completely, Ed lifted his head and looked into her eyes. "Am I hurting you?"

"No. You are perfect."

"So why are you crying?"

She wasn't. She was sure that not a single tear had spilled from her eyes. How did he know that the tears were gathering before even looking into her eyes?

Intuition?

Or had she made a sound without being aware of it?

Lifting her hand, Jasmine cupped Edgar's cheek. "I'm just a little emotional. Thank you for being so careful with me."

He lowered his head and pressed his lips against her in the softest of kisses. "You are precious," he murmured between kisses. "And you deserve to be treated as such."

The man didn't know her, so if he thought that she was precious, he must think that all women were, and that made him even more special to her.

So many men thought of women as vessels for their pleasure, to be used and abused. Most were not malicious, though, just careless and selfish.

"You are a rare jewel, Edgar, a prince among men."

He smiled and then, kissing her softly, resumed his slow and steady rhythm. Watching her carefully, he soon set up a tempo that had her careening toward the edge of the cliff again.

She met him thrust for thrust, her nails raking down his back and her breathy moans and cries spurring him on.

It was raw and primal, but she still had a feeling that he was holding back. It was evident in his tense shoulders, the hard set of his jaw, and the perspiration on his brow. But as much as she tried to spur him on by churning her hips and moaning in his ear, he wasn't releasing all that pent-up power.

His tongue flicking over her neck was what drove her over the edge, and as another climax washed over her like a tsunami, she heard him hiss, and then twin points of searing pain stole her breath before fading away. The momentary pain was replaced by another earth-shattering orgasm, and as his hot seed jetted out of him, another climax thundered through her.

When her convulsions finally eased up, relaxing her muscles and leaving her boneless, euphoria spread throughout her mind and body, carrying her on its wings to a place of bliss where nothing negative existed.

Was it heaven?

Did she just die from too much pleasure?

Jasmine couldn't care less as she soared above the clouds, light as a thought and free as a bird.

26

EDGAR

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