Jacob's mouth wandered down Zande's satin skin, between the soft swell of her breasts, his breath catching in his throat, in her throat, so that she gasped with pleasure. A small sound escaped, a low cry of need.
Zande arced into him even as her hips matched his frantic rhythm. She wanted the whip of lightning flashing through her body, burning her with leaping flames. His tongue stroked her skin, the curve of her breast; his teeth teased her erect nipple gently while his body claimed hers with a fierce possessiveness he had never known he could feel.
"Jacob," Zande whispered in an agony of anticipation, a siren's temptation, her melodious voice sending feathers of pleasure down his spine. "I may burn up before we have finished."