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Даниэла Стил
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He kissed her again in answer to what she had said to him, and he gently peeled the rest of her clothes away, and took his own off, and a moment later they were lying on the bed, their clothes in a heap on the floor beside them. Joe was drawing her exquisite body with gentle fingers, and kissing her everywhere, savoring the moment and the sound and feel of her as she moaned beneath his lips and his fingers. She was kissing him as he entered her, and it only hurt her for an instant, and within seconds she was abandoning herself completely to him.

They were both engulfed in passion, and he had never loved anyone as he did her, or given himself so totally. He held nothing back, and it almost frightened him as he felt as though he were going to disappear inside her, his soul blended with hers, his body keening for her. They made love for a long time, and when it was over they were both too spent to move or speak. It was Joe who moved first, as he rolled over carefully on his side, and looked at her more tenderly than he ever had any woman.
Kate had opened doors in him he never knew were there.

“I love you, Kate,” he whispered into her hair, and traced a lazy finger down her side, and then covered her gently with the blanket. She was half asleep as she smiled up at him. She felt no shame, no regret, no pain. She had never in her entire life been as happy. She was his at last.

She never went back to her room that night, she stayed with him, and he tucked her into bed and then slipped into it next to her.

He wanted to make love to her again, but he didn't want to hurt her. But in the morning, it was Kate who reached for him, and within moments, they found each other, and soared to new heights again. New places had opened in their life together, and new feelings had been born. And when Kate got up and looked at him afterward, she realized that a deeper bond had been formed between them. It didn't matter where he had been, or where he was going now, she knew instinctively that for the rest of their lives, she would be his, and he was irrevocably woven into her.
She wouldn't have known how to say it to him, but she knew, as she got into the shower with him, that he owned her. Her soul and the deepest part of her were his.

7

LEAVING JOE IN WASHINGTON was even harder this time than when he had left her in Boston in September. He was part of her now, and he was even more tender with her.

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