Her mouth flew open in horror as Isa stared at the dark strands around her fingers. Chance just laughed, fiercely delighted with her impatience and burning with the need to be inside her. He pushed her back along the bed until they were both stretched out, and then settled his hips between her legs.
His eyes met hers in the instant before he thrust forward. Her mouth was open, breathing in short rapid pants, and her hair was a dark tangle framing her wide cedar eyes. Chance groaned, wanting to tell Isa how beautiful she was, or that he'd never forget how she looked at this moment… but a more powerful need took over than the one to talk. He pushed inside her even as she arched up against him—and then he couldn't think anymore. There was nothing aside from the hot sweet embrace of her walls, the indescribable rapture of plunging deeper and faster within her, her sweat clinging to his skin, their scents merging into one… and the twisting spasms of her orgasm that seemed to squeeze his cock with a thousand tiny hands.
Chance knew he should have let himself climax then, too. After all, if he were thinking, he'd remember Isa was tired and she'd had a difficult day from being shot, for God's sake. But he wasn't thinking. He only knew he didn't want to stop, so he didn't. He held her and kissed her, sucking on her breasts or between her legs to tease her into a fevered state of excitement, before he'd plunge inside her over and over again. He finally allowed himself to come when he realized Isa was close to exhaustion. She was drenched in sweat, and her cries had a distinctively hoarse note to them.
Chance held her as tightly as he dared while his release rippled through him. It felt like his skin was splitting, the pleasure was so intense. Then a sensation of pure contentment settled into him, making him realize he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that post-orgasm. It was wondrous, and yet also faintly terrifying. What if Isa didn't feel the same way for him? What if she woke up tomorrow and said this had all been a mistake?
Chance pushed those fears aside. Isa didn't seem the type to jump lightly into things, and she'd offered herself to him knowing full well what he was. There were no guarantees in life—or undeath—so Chance had to take things with Isa as they came. When was the last time he'd been so nervous/exhilarated over the future? Wasn't that worth the cost of a little fear?
Chance rolled them until they were lying on their sides. Isa was still gasping, her heart rate a constant staccato in his ears. He took her hand, kissing it, and her fingers stroked his cheek.
"Do you know what I'm going to do, first thing tomorrow?" she asked when she caught her breath.
He felt a grin tug his mouth. "Can I put in a request?"
She swatted at him with no strength. "I'm going to call every man I've ever had sex with… and demand an apology."
Chance laughed even as a surprising dart of jealously pierced him. It doesn't matter what happened before, he reminded himself. She's with you now. "Thank you, I think."
"Believe me," she said, settling closer to him. "Thank you."
*
Isa had been sound asleep, but Chance shaking her shoulder woke her. She blinked in the darkness of the room, barely seeing Chance put a finger to his lips.
"Someone's circling around the back," he whispered.
She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost three in the morning. Definitely not time for a social call.
Chance got up in a pale blur of flesh and was soundlessly out the window before Isa could even react. She had a second to be glad no one should be awake at this hour to wonder why a naked man was streaking around her grandmother's house, when a cut-off yelp made her vault out of bed. She didn't take time to hunt for clothes, but just wound the bed sheet around her and darted down the hall. Her grandmother's gun was in the living room where Isa placed it earlier. Sure, it didn't have silver bullets, but Robert or his goons would go down with plain old lead.
The back door opened and Chance appeared. At least Isa assumed it was Chance, not being able to see his face clearly in the dark. But really, how many other naked men coming in her grandmother's house at this hour could there be? Especially ones dragging a half-struggling form with him.
"Be still," Chance snapped, his gaze blazing emerald. The form quit moving at once.
"Is it Robert?" Isa asked, debating with herself on whether she needed the gun or not.
"No," Chance said, holding the other person's head up by their hair. "I believe this is your brother."
"Frazier!" Isa exclaimed.
"Don't turn on the light," Chance warned her as she was about to flip the nearest switch to verify that it was indeed her brother. "Close all the drapes first, you never know who might be watching this house."
Isa quickly went around and yanked all the downstairs drapes closed, then she nearly fell over in relief when illumination did reveal that it was her brother. Frazier was here, alive and unhurt—except for the dull glaze in his eyes as he looked at Chance.
"Er, can you snap him out of that?" she asked.