Two lovers embrace.

Sphere of white light,

Shelter from sight

The pleasure we share

In this bed we dare.

I give this man my vow,

Be it here, be it now,

To protect from strange fears,

She of tender heart and years.

Stay innocent; stay sweet

While two hearts meet."

Destiny turned to Morgan, who was watching her, gratitude in his gaze, touched by her words. "Thank you," he whispered, almost as if he believed.

"I should be thanking you," she countered, one knee on the bed as she unbuttoned his shirt to reveal her Orgasm Donor T-shirt. "You just took a big step toward understanding my gifts. Have you had a personality transplant?"

He took her hand from the mattress, knocking her off balance so she fell forward and landed on top of him. "I'd embrace any belief to keep Meggie safe," he said, settling Destiny over him like his own personal blanket. "I can't say that I know what to believe anymore, but I do know that I'm happy for the first time in years. Nice shirt."

He took her lips in a kiss that spoke of yearning, deep and long denied, not only for sex but for the touch of another. His hands were all over her in a celebration of freedom. "I want more than sex," he whispered, proving her right. "I want you. I ache for you, Destiny."

"And I ache for you." She loved the feel of his body beneath hers, the thrust of his ready hips, the strength of his erection encumbered by his jeans. She loved his roaming lips exploring her eyelids, her brows and nose, as if learning the shape of her face, her ears, the arch of her neck, then he went back to her mouth and drank like a man parched.

He ran his hands down her spine, cupped a butt cheek in each, and sighed in contentment. "This is where you belong, in my arms."

"I've often thought so."

They stayed like that for minutes or hours. Who cared? Front to front, like two peas in a tight pod, touching also with hands and lips. She learned that arousal filled his amber eyes with flecks of green and brown.

Outside the door, Caramello's cries quieted.

They kissed until their hearts pounded and their sex pulsed, until rocking against each other with their clothes between them wasn't enough.

"This is the most wonderful experience of my life, and I know there's more," Morgan said near her ear before kissing it. "My body is crying for more. But what exactly is next? How do I move? What do I say? Because right now: 'Pluck me please, or I'll come without you,' is all I can think of, and that can't be right. I mean, I want to kiss you forever. I've dreamed of it for months, but my body has other plans."

She laid her head on his chest and sighed. "I'm so comfortable as your blanket, I could go to sleep."

His torso stiffened beneath her.

"Guess you don't like that idea," she said with a chuckle. "Want me to move, do you?" She raised her head and rested it on her hands, her elbows on his chest. "What would you do if I refused to move?"

He growled and rolled them together so he ended on top.

Destiny punched the air. "Wahoo, you figured it out by yourself."

"Call it desperation."

"Call it instinct. We could start now and put slot A into slot B," she said, "or we could take it slow and easy and make this one swell of a day."

"I'm an ex-priest. Surely I have a hell of a good time coming to me."

"Yeah, that kind of good time, with you coming your brains out."

"Guess hell's a negative word?"

"Not in this context, it isn't. Get up. Stand. There you go." His confusion charmed her, though he did as told. "Don't look so anxious," she said. "I'm not taking away your toys. I'm playing the leader, so follow where I lead."

"I always thought you were mysterious," he said. "And it turns out that you're deep, and playful, and sexy as sin. Turns out, I like sin."

She knelt at his feet and ran her hands up his jeans and along the outside of his legs, around to his fine man butt. Then she started from the beginning again and ran her hands slowly along his inseam. He groaned when she stroked the power beneath his zipper. "You've been practicing going the distance, according to the rules in your books, right?"

"Yeah, but it's a whole new ball game when you're not playing sexual solitaire."

"Relax. You're all tense. And try to hang on. Good wordplay, by the way, because I'll be playing with your balls." She unbuttoned his jeans slower than a snail going uphill, just to torture him and make it last. She slid his jeans down his legs until they puddled at his feet.

She pulled off his shoes, then his jeans, which gave her clear access to the hairy, muscular legs beneath her palms. "Nice," she said. "Not at all like a yeti's."

"What?"

"Tell you later." She kissed her way up his legs, feeling him become more tense by the kiss.

"You're killing me here, Cartwright."

She peeked up at him. "It's called foreplay, you soon-to-be-ex-virgin. Get into the spirit. This is just the beginning. You get to torture me next."

"Alleluia!"

"That certainly upped your, er, spirit. Now close your eyes and enjoy." She kissed her way from his knee to his poor, confined cock pulsing beneath his boxers to be set free.

She kissed him through the fabric, and he bucked so hard, he knocked her on her ass. "Hey! Are you paying me back for your concussion?"

His grin about stopped her heart. "I'm new at this. That was a surprise. I liked it!" He growled. "Do it again."

"Okay," she said, "but be prepared. Your pecker is mine to do with as I please."

"I've died and gone to the promised land."

"Not yet."

Chapter Twenty-one.

AGAIN, she kissed him through his boxers, and Morgan tried not to buck as hard. He loved her attention, but he wanted her as insane as him. When she slipped her hands into the back waistband of his shorts-raw pleasure shivering him to his marrow-and cupped his bare bottom with her silky palms, he couldn't stand being passive another minute.

He opened his eyes to watch and double his pleasure. Having the subject of all his fantasies pleasuring him was one thing. Watching her about made him come.

He combed his hand through her hair and cupped her head while she slid his boxers down his legs, his boss stone cock staring her in the face.

She looked up at him and winked. "Congratulations to me. Congratulations to me," she sang to the tune of "Happy Birthday," while she admired his pecker. "Hel-lo, Big Boy."

"You're not disappointed?" he asked like an insecure fool.

"Disappointed, Stud?" she said with a wink. "I'm so impressed, I'm salivating everywhere."

His sex danced in excitement.

She licked his happy dancer, and he tried to control his reaction, while shivers of elation thrummed through him. If he died tonight, he'd die happy and satisfied, because all his dreams would have come true.

She closed her hand around him, and he shouted with shock and utter pleasure. She squeezed, and he blew out his breath. She moved her hand along his length, and he stopped her. "I don't think I can go the distance."

She sat back on her heels. "This is your first flight," she said, as if giving him permission to blow it before they began. "If you don't count our recent practice runs."

"Thank you for understanding. I'm a rookie, and you're a pro."

"I am not a pro!"

"I didn't mean a hooker." Morgan's ears caught fire; that's how embarrassed he was.

"Morgan Jarvis, I'll have you know that I only have sex with men I care about. You're my fourth . . . relationship."

"This is a relationship?" He could feel his cock shrinking. Going into hiding, as it were.

"Of course, it is. We're friends, aren't we? We've been attracted from the first, haven't we?"

Morgan swallowed. "Have we?"

"Sure, or we wouldn't have cared enough to watch, follow, bait, research, attract, and generally annoy the wandering widdershins out of each other. We would simply have walked away."

"But we couldn't walk," he said. "What do you mean, research?"

"You asked my sisters about me, and I asked your friends about you. It's called research."

"Questions. Right," he said. "We're in a relationship." Which made him feel better about this whole sex thing. "I like the way you're bringing the big guy back to life-brother do I-but I'd like to get to first base for the first time in my life without a precipitous foul out, if you know what I mean."

"Then let's go for the homer. Once you've hit your first, it'll get easier to go the distance. Nothing to do but dispense with the clothes."

To Morgan's shock, she pulled her Orgasm Donor shirt over her head, and slipped her jeans down her legs. The panties she still wore were the same purple as her bra and made of lace so he could see her blond nest quite well beneath them.

Turned out, he had a stronger heart than he thought.

"Here," she said, pushing her breasts his way. "I'm betting you need some bra unhooking practice."