Silently he pulled the tail of his shirt from his pants and, with her help, since his right side had stiffened up a bit, eased the garment off over his head. Then he sat down on the pallet as she directed, half turning to the side so that the firelight illuminated his back.

Serena knelt behind him. "It's a nasty bruise," she murmured, hesitating only an instant before touching him. The ugly reddened stamp of the stone was as large as her two hands, and she could imagine how much it hurt. Without asking his permission, she glided her hand very gently over the bruise and concentrated on healing skin and muscle. The redness slowly faded, and the pain as well, and she felt him relax.

"Thank you," he said. "That's much better. No pain or stiffness at all-"

That was when she leaned forward and pressed her lips to him.

Instantly she felt him react, his muscles tightening in a purely sensual response, and she had the impression he wasn't breathing at all. Her hands stroked upward to shape his shoulders, probing the hardness of bone and sinew and flesh. She rubbed her cheek against him slowly, her eyes half closing.

"Serena…" His voice was low, almost harsh.

"You said you didn't mind me touching you," she said softly.

He cleared his throat. "And you said we weren't ready for this."

"That was then," she said. "I think we're ready now. At least ready to try. Don't you?"

Merlin was trying to think, which was virtually impossible, since she ended every sentence by pressing her soft lips to his back. It felt wonderful. Better than wonderful, it was utterly maddening. "You know I want you." He expected to feel that familiar jarring sense of conflict within him, but this time it was no more than a faint uneasiness far in the back of his consciousness.

Serena drew away from him, which made him turn swiftly to stare at her. She slowly unlaced her vest, pulled it off and tossed it aside, then pulled the tail of her green blouse free of her pants.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Merlin got rid of his boots and socks. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She looked oddly demure kneeling there on the fur cloak flung across the pallet, with her fiery hair loose around her shoulders and her expression so solemn, but the firelight danced in her vivid eyes like a pagan invitation, and her slightly parted lips were moist and enticing. While he watched, she dispensed with her boots and socks using wizardry, but began slowly unbuttoning her blouse with her slender fingers.

Merlin moved closer and rose on his knees, grasping her shoulders and drawing her up, as well. Serena felt her hands touch his hard, powerful chest, and then he was pulling her into his arms and hers were around him, and the most incredible sense of relief swept over her. She hadn't been sure. Bravado aside, she hadn't been sure.

But when his mouth closed over hers and she felt the hardness of his body against hers, she was. He was very much with her, she could feel it; there was no curtain being drawn in his mind because she was a woman, something to dread and be wary of. And she thought he knew that his need was like hers, emotional as well as physical.

Their bodies, pressed together, strained to be even closer, though they hadn't moved apart long enough to rid themselves of what remained of their clothing. Her fingers clutched at his back, and his swept down her back to curve over her buttocks and bring her lower body tighter against his, while their kiss deepened sharply.

Serena suddenly, fiercely, wanted them both to be naked, and because she wished it, their clothing vanished. She tore her lips from his with a gasp, shocked by the stark sensations of her breasts flattened against his chest and her belly rubbing the swollen hardness of his member as he held her and moved sensuously against her.

His eyes, liquid black, burning, gazed into hers, and it was Serena who tried to struggle against this, not physically but emotionally, all her fears wild in her eyes. For so long she'd thought him beyond reach, and it had been safe to love him, love Merlin, without risk or vulnerability, but now he was Richard, flesh and blood and the heat of need, and it was terrifying to think of giving so much of herself to him.…

Merlin could see, as well as feel, her emotions, and her panicked defenselessness made him reach out with an instinct far deeper than any his ancestors had instilled in him.

"Don't, Serena, don't be afraid," he murmured, both his hands lifting to surround her face, his thumbs gently smoothing the hot skin over her cheekbones. "You've been so brave and strong and clearheaded through all of this, even when I gave you so many reasons to hate me. Don't leave me now, please. Fight the way you always have. So stubborn and fierce… my Serena…"

She caught her breath on a little gasp, and as quickly as it had surged inside her the trepidation was gone. She was left with a necessity that was almost frantic, a hunger for him that held all the intensity of a storm trapped under glass for too long. It felt as if she had wanted him forever.

"Yes," she whispered, all her senses once more focused on the overwhelming contact of their naked bodies.

Merlin kissed her, his mouth urgent, and eased them both down into the softness of the fur-covered pallet. Leaning over her, kissing her again and again, he touched her silken stomach and felt it quiver, then slid his hand slowly up to cup her breast. She jerked and made a little sound, and he raised his head to look down at her. Her eyes were wide and fixed on his face, startled and wondering, color and heat blooming over her cheekbones as his thumb brushed over her nipple.

He kissed her once more, his tongue slipping between her lips to touch and play with hers until she answered the intimate little caresses eagerly. She made another little sound, this one of disappointment, when his mouth left hers to trail over her face. He touched her eyelids and forehead, her cheeks and nose and chin, almost as if he were using his lips to memorize her every feature. Then his mouth moved down her throat, and she felt the shattering sensation of his tongue slowly tracing the little heart with which he had marked her as his.

He was kneading her breast gently, and when his mouth finally reached her nipple and closed over it, she moaned and clutched at his shoulders, her senses nearly drowned by the waves and waves of burning pleasure.

For the first time in his life, Merlin's perceptions of this act were completely unclouded, unaffected by anything except his senses and emotions, and her responses. The hunger inside him was clean and sharp, rising, filling him with a pulsing ache as alive as his beating heart. He had never known desire could be like this, so overpowering, and he gave himself up to it with a joyous sense of freedom and gratitude.

It wasn't simply a female body he needed so badly, but Serena. Her skin was heated silk under his touch, her luminous eyes gleamed up at him with a hunger that matched his, and the little sounds she made touched all his senses with fire. There was something almost familiar about making love to her, as if some deeply buried part of him had always known how it would be.

He caressed her breasts until they swelled and blushed with passion, until she was breathing as quickly as he was, and then he moved his hand down over her quivering belly, his fingers sliding into red curls, parting her to find the soft, hot flesh already throbbing for his touch. She cried out into his mouth and bucked upward in surprise, but he held her securely and stroked her in a steady, quickening rhythm.

Serena was slightly astonished when her thighs parted for him so eagerly, when her hips lifted and moved to his touch, when her body seemed to give itself over to him completely with utter naturalness. But before she could follow the self-preserving instincts all humans shared and try to regain control over herself, it was too late, for too late.