Her hands moved and pleasure coursed heavily through Wolfe. She kissed the muscular curve of his thigh, the sleek warmth of his abdomen, the intriguing hollow of his navel.

Eyes glittering, half-closed, Wolfe watched her loving him in the only way he would allow. The hushed silence of the room expanded until it became as taut as the instant before lightning arced between sky and earth.

The clear pleasure Jessica took in Wolfe’s body and her utter lack of fear almost undid him. It took a fierce effort of will for him not to grab her and return the intimate caresses. But he knew if he touched her, he wouldn’t stop until he was buried in her, feeling her ecstasy shivering around him, hurling him into the sun.

Wolfe’s fingers clenched in the ends of Jessica’s long hair as he felt her warm mouth caressing his skin. Then he could watch her no longer. He could only close his eyes and fight the violent need that threatened to overpower him. Of all the sensual things he had dreamed about his elf, the possibility of her taking such open, heated pleasure in his body hadn’t been one of them. Never had he been more aroused or felt more his own power as a man.

Then Jessica’s tongue skimmed his blunt arousal. He made the sound of a man in torment. Her head turned swiftly toward him, sending her hair over him in silky fire. As lightly as a sigh, as hot as flame, her hair settled between his thighs. A visible shudder ripped through him.

«Wolfe? Did I hurt you?»

He smiled despite talons of need drawing his body on a rack. «Did I ever make you ache?»

She nodded. The movement sent sensual fire coursing over his erect flesh. He barely suppressed a groan.

«SweetJessi, it hurts only when you stop.»

«But how do I touch you now? We are so different.»

«I’ve never asked that from a woman.» Wolfe looked at Jessica with eyes that were dark blue gems burning. «That kind of intimacy is too much to ask of an innocent elf.»

«Is it shameful of me to admit I’d rather be wanton than innocent? I find I’m quite…curious.»

«And I find I’ve never been more aroused. I wonder how much more I can take?» Wolfe drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. «We’ll learn together.»

«This can’t be new to you.»

He smiled ruefully. «But it is.»

«Your duchesses —»

«Hammer the duchesses,» Wolfe said roughly. «They weren’t mine, nor was I theirs. I was a savage trophy for them. Not one of them gave tinker’s damn for anything but cold-hearted rutting. Not one of them ever gave me half the sweet pleasure you have.»

«I have?» Jessica whispered. «By touching you where you’re most different?»

Wolfe smiled and stroked his thumb over her lips, the only way he would permit himself to touch her.

«That, and earlier, when you went down my body as though I were a warm spring and you were bathing in me.»

«But you are.» Jessica drew her cheek against the hard masculine flesh that defined Wolfe’s hunger. «And I am.»

«Bathing in me?»

«Yes.» She turned her head and caressed him with her other cheek.

«Keep that up,» he said in a thick voice, «and there will be as much fact as metaphor in what you say.»

Jessica paused, then smiled secretly as she understood. «That would be only fair.»

«No.»

«Yes.» Her head moved again, but this time it was her mouth that caressed him rather than her cheek. «Did you not bathe in me?»

Wolfe groaned something in Cheyenne as his whole body clenched.

«You are very hard, my Wolfe.»

The sound he made wasn’t recognizable as a word, which was just as well. He was certain the word would have shocked her.

«You’re very warm,» she whispered, testing his heat with the tip of her tongue.

«You are a tease,» he said in a thick voice.

«Am I? Your blood is running heavily. I can feel it.» Jessica trembled with the answering rush of her own blood. «It beats more fiercely here than in your neck.»

Wolfe didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He had never imagined how violently exciting it might be to experience his body through Jessica’s eyes, her hands, her words.

Then the gentle, curious, incendiary heat of her mouth discovered him. With a murmuring sound of pleasure and surprise, she surrounded him. Wolfe’s fingers clenched deeply in the covers as a wave of unspeakable pleasure exploded through him. He fought to control the wild pulses of his release, but even as he fought he knew he would quickly lose.

Wolfe barely had enough strength to drag Jessica back up his body and bury his tongue in her mouth. Then he tasted himself and her and groaned as though he were being torn apart.

The leap and shudder of his flesh beneath her hand awed Jessica. She felt the spreading, silky heat of Wolfe’s fulfillment and knew that she was touching the beginning of life itself. She returned his kiss fiercely, wishing that life within her.

«I didn’t mean to shock you like that,» he said when he could draw a whole breath again. «When you kissed me so intimately, I all but lost control.»

«You didn’t shock me.»

«Bloody hell I didn’t. You tasted me.»

«Yes,» Jessica whispered. «That was the best of all. You taste like tears, only more silky and mysterious.»

Her words went through Wolfe like dawn through night, transforming and renewing him in the space of a single rushing breath.

«You’re going to be the death of me, elf,» Wolfe said huskily, rolling over until he had Jessica caged between his body and the bed. «But first, I’m going to be the death of you.»

Jessica didn’t understand until she felt Wolfe’s mouth on her breast and his hand sliding down her body to seek the scented petals of the flower that opened only for him. She was already sleek, sultry, hungry, for pleasuring him had aroused her. The first brush of his fingers made her gasp. The second made her cry out. The third sent a silky heat spreading between them.

The fourth sent her to the sun.

Although Wolfe’s expression had been rather grim when he came in from outdoors, the sight of his wife spooning chili into a big serving bowl made him pause. The slow, very male smile he gave her as he peeled off his leather work gloves told Jessica that he was remembering what had happened between them in the hushed silence of dawn three days ago — and every night since.

As Wolfe took the big bowl from Jessica, he slid the palms of his hands over the back of her fingers. Because there were other people nearby, he didn’t bend to take her soft mouth in a kiss. But he wanted to, and the catch in her breathing when his palms touched her skin told Wolfe that Jessica wanted the kiss as much as he did.

«How’s the little man doing?» Wolfe asked Willow, turning away from the temptation of Jessica’s mouth.

Willow looked up from the shallow basin where she was carefully bathing the baby, who seemed to be enjoying the warm water and his mother’s touch.

«Ethan Caleb Black is doing wonderfully well,» Willow said, smiling.

«Ethan, huh? You finally decided.»

«It was Caleb’s father’s name.»

«Big shoes for the little one to fill,» Wolfe said. He looked appraisingly at Willow. «Are you sure you should be up and working so soon?»

«Lying in bed is for people who are sick. I’m not.»

Frowning, Jessica looked up from the pan of cornbread that was staying warm near the stove.

«In England, the women stay in confinement for several weeks after giving birth,» Jessica pointed out.

«Figures,» Wolfe said. His voice was rich with disgust for the aristocrats of Great Britain. «The whole lot of them is as useless as teats on a boar hog.»

All Willow said was, «The longer you stay in bed, the weaker you are when you get up.»

«You look tired,» Jessica persisted.

«I’ve been a lot more tired. Ask Caleb.» She picked up Ethan and wrapped his bottom in a soft cotton diaper as she continued talking. «Ethan and I had a nice long nap this morning, didn’t we, button? And after lunch, we’re going to have another one.»