"Lord, you're so soft." He groaned. "I want to bury myself in you and never come out! Touch me, love."

Her hands reached out tentatively to stroke his solid muscular chest, then began an eager caressing motion. She loved the firm, masculine feel of him, she thought, excitement turning her eyes to deep purple. She began to rake her nails lightly over his hard nipples.

Rex's hands were busy with the multitude of buttons that closed her cream satin robe and when the last one was vanquished, he opened the robe wide, revealing her gold-silk beauty in the firelight.

The expression in his eyes deepened to a glazed intensity as he rubbed a gentle hand over her firm belly. "I wish I'd saved that line from Romeo and Juliet," he said thickly. "You're a miracle, sweetheart."

"So are you," she murmured, as he stripped the white shirt off and threw it carelessly aside. He was all clean, bronze lines and compact, glowing muscle in the firelight. His lean face was taut with need as his head bent slowly to take one hard nipple in his mouth.

Then, with an almost guttural cry, he fell on her, kneading and caressing her breasts with eager hands, while he bit and teased at her engorged nipples with teeth and tongue. His tormenting lips moved down to the smooth curve of her belly, and he tongued her navel with light, sensuous strokes until she was shuddering and writhing beneath him, arching to meet that teasing tongue and running her hands feverishly over his back and shoulders.

With a low groan of frustration, Rex gathered her in his arms and strode swiftly to the canopied bed, laying her down on the delicate rose and cream of the coverlet. She held her arms out to him yearningly, but he shook his head. "Not yet, sweetheart," he said huskily.

He left her for a brief moment and she heard rustling sounds as he stripped off the rest of his clothes. There was another pause and when he returned, his arms were filled with flowers. "I never imagined when I reached this particular surprise it would be so difficult to execute," he said wryly, running his gaze lingeringly over her naked golden curves and valleys. "I studied your notebook. I hope I got it all right."

He drew a golden bloom from the bouquet. "Chrysanthemum means truth." He tossed the posy onto her stomach. "Salvia-wisdom; orchid-beauty; jasmine-sensuality." With each definition he placed a flower on her body. "Lotus-eloquence." He paused as he came to the last flower, a magnificent golden iris with' scarlet markings. "This one is the most appropriate at the moment. Do you remember what it means, love?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

She shook her head, staring up at him in bemusement.

"It means 'flame-I burn.' “He tossed the last brilliant blossom onto her breasts and then followed it down on the bed. He picked up the iris, idly stroking her breasts with its velvet petals. "Oh, yes, I definitely burn," he said thickly, and the flower was crushed between them as he kissed her shoulders and the sensitive cord of her neck before making a passionate pilgrimage to the honey sweetness of her lips.

One hair-roughened leg parted her own and while his tongue jousted and played with hers, his hips rubbed sensuously against her in an erotically intimate caress that caused her to arch frantically against his warm hardness.

"I can't wait any longer, sweetheart," he groaned. "I've got to have you!"

When he reached that final barrier, at first he couldn't believe it. "Relax, sweetheart," he said huskily. "Don't fight it. Let me love you." Then he looked down into her flushed, glowing face, her eyes darkened purple with desire, and saw absolutely no fight there… only a reflection of his own need. He stiffened slowly above her, and an expression of incredulous amazement crossed his face. "Good Lord," he said blankly. He instinctively made a motion of withdrawal.

"No!" Tamara gasped, her arms tightening about him. "Don't leave me."

"I'll hurt you," he said, his eyes closing and his breath coming in little gasps. "Let me go. I don't want to hurt you, love. I don't know anything about-" He suddenly broke off. "Oh Lord, I can't stop!" His hips surged forward and her shocked cry was drowned by his groan of savage satisfaction as he buried himself in her warmth.

He was absolutely still for a long moment, his eyes closed, an expression of almost unbelievable pleasure on his face. "So good," he said thickly. "How can anything feel this good?" He flexed suddenly and she gave a little gasp. His lids lifted slowly and he was looking down at her, his gaze smolderingly intense. "I'll make it good for you too, babe."

"I know you will," she said, smiling up at him lovingly. He felt an unfamiliar lump in his throat. "It's good now, Rex." She was telling the truth. After the first shock of pain had come this lovely stretching fullness.

He shook his head wonderingly. "You're easily pleased," he said raggedly, and suddenly there was that flicker of mischief that was never far away from him. "You offer no challenge to my expertise at all, love. I can see now that I'm going to have to expand your horizons." He flexed again and there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as a tense little shiver ran through her. "Among other things."

His hands went slowly to her breasts, pulling and pinching gently at the taut tips while he looked down at her flushed face with its expression of glazed pleasure. "Such pretty pink nipples," he said softly. "But I like them even better like this. So ruby red and begging to be suckled. Do you want my mouth on you, Tamara? Do you want to feel my tongue on those lovely nipples?"

"Oh yes," she moaned, and watched in a haze of hot, languid need as his dark head slowly lowered to her breasts. His lips brushed teasingly against her hard nipple and a ripple of heat surged through her. His tongue darted out and slowly outlined the engorged areola and she almost cried out at the tingling shock that went through her. Both of his hands reached out and closed on her breasts, cupping them.

"Fantastic," Rex breathed. His mouth suddenly enveloped one breast with a suction that was both strong and gentle. At the same time he began to move within her in tempo with the suction of his lips. The sensation was so incredibly intense that for a moment it took her breath away.

But she couldn't remain still for long. She found she had to move. Her hips instinctively started to match Rex's magical rhythm with an even more explosive one of her own.

Rex lifted his head, a flush on his cheekbones and an expression of heavy sensuality on his face. "Easy, sweetheart," he said huskily. "I want to make this last a long time."

"I can't," she cried, her head thrashing from side to side on the pillow. Her hips increased their rhythm and her hands closed desperately on his shoulders. "Oh Lord, Rex, I need…"

"It's all right, babe," he crooned soothingly, his hands gently stroking the hair at her temples. "Easy now, I'll give you everything you need."

And he did. His movements took on a fiery, forceful rhythm that snatched her breath away and caused her to arch into his thrusts with an answering tension that mounted by the second. Her nails bit into his shoulders as she strived desperately to break that tension. "Rex, why can't…"

"Shh, sweetheart," he gasped, his hands reaching beneath her to cup her buttocks and draw her closer to his thrusting body. "Don't reach for it. Just let it happen."

Then it was happening and she cried out as her body convulsed, her legs tightening around Rex in a grateful embrace. He was still moving, she noticed dazedly, and he lifted her in a final deep thrust, then uttered a wild, guttural groan that sent an odd, primitive thrill through her.

He collapsed against her and she could feel the mad thunder of his heart as he clutched her to him. He was trembling, and his chest was moving with the harshness of his breathing. Her arms closed around him with an age-old instinctive protectiveness.