ETAN
Etan almost wept with the overwhelming joy of taking her. And his body almost tumbled into climax. Had it really only been a day? He felt as if they'd been apart, robbed from each other for months. His hands shook, his breath shuddered, his body sought. And when he pressed into her, the pleasure and shock of taking her arched his back.
He threw his head back and gave a guttural groan—hushed, but barely. He prayed the men wouldn't hear them, that Ayleth wouldn't be embarrassed. But he couldn't stop, couldn't leave her, had to have her, and as he thrust into her and her mouth fell open, he took those soft pillow lips with his own, covering her with his body, releasing her hand so he could touch and stroke, his breath thundering and hoarse.
When she smiled it was sunlight to his heart, and her tears were rain to his parched skin.
