Jacob would have collapsed on top of her, but he was far too conscious of how delicate she was. He rolled to one side, taking her with him because he couldn't tolerate the slightest separation.
He had seen as much of her mind as she had seen of his. She thought, incorrectly, that she would now go back to her family and meet with him every now and then. Or, worse, that he would leave her because she refused to go off with him.
His arm was heavy over her narrow rib cage; his thigh held her still. Lazily his hand cupped her breast, his thumb feathering gently, first over her nipple, then tracing the curving fullness.
Zande felt her body clench in reaction. It would always be that way. She knew it.
Jacob had some dominion over her body, some perfect union with her no one else could ever match. She had read about sex, knew every detail, every position, every intriguing intimacy that could possibly be shared. Yet her body had never once felt desire.
