“You could put me down, you know? I am perfectly capable of walking on my own two feet,” Marlena protested feebly.

“I prefer to have you in my arms,” John replied.

“Can I at least open my eyes?!”

The warmth of her breath was a sharp contrast to the icy air and it sent a shiver down his spine that threatened to drop him to his knees. “Don’t you dare,” he managed to croak as he fumbled with the lock to the bunkhouse door.

Marlena felt a blast of warm air and heard the crackling of a fire. The door slammed closed against the chill of the night and she lay back in his arms, wondering where he had carried her off to.





“Well? What do you think?” he asked, his voice echoing oddly from the walls.

She opened her eyes and found herself staring into the dark recesses of a high-pitched ceiling. As her eyes drifted down, drawn to the glow of a fire that raged at them from the far side of the room, she thought for a moment they were in a cave. A cottage, she realized. They were in a stone cottage.

Hundreds of candles covered the room, driving back the shadows in a sparkling shower of light. Between the islands of light, she glimpsed flowers. Vases and bowls filled with wildflowers, their colors flashing out in response to the dancing lights. The clean scent of flowers and flame engulfed her and she let out a laugh of pure joy. “What are you up to?!”

John bent his head, nuzzled the side of her neck. “Never doubt that I love you, Marlena. Never.”

Her breath caught in her throat and she raised a hand to wipe away the tears she saw in his eyes. “In my heart, I never doubted you. I promise that I never will,” she whispered.

His eyes softened, reflecting the glow of the candles, and he whirled in place, Marlena in his arms. Laughing aloud, he gestured with a nod to the room around them. “You like?”





“I like,” she answered, ignoring the room, looking only into his eyes.

With an embarrassed grin, he brushed a soft kiss against her lips. His eyes never left hers as he walked slowly toward the roaring fire. Moving easily, John dropped to his knees and Marlena found herself sinking into the smooth caress of satin sheets. The feather mattress beneath her was warm from the heat of the fire and the velvet of rose petals brushed against her cheek. “How on earth did you do all this?” she asked in amazement.

“Well, Jensen did help out,” he admitted.

“Ah, I should have known. Maybe I should start dating Jensen,” she said in a contemplative tone as she reached up to cup the side of his face.

Suppressing a smile, he eased forward and propped himself above her. “Gee. I always liked Jensen. Shame I’ll have to kill him.”

Her lips quirked in a grin as she ran her fingers down the line of his neck. “Well, maybe Jensen wouldn’t be so great after all. I mean, he really isn’t as cute as you are.”

John’s face flushed and he swallowed convulsively as she continued in an almost clinical tone. “You have much bigger biceps than he does,” she said, reaching to wrap her hand around the hard muscle of his right arm. “Yep, your biceps are much nicer. And your chest....”

Her eyes glued on his, she let her hand drift over to run across the broad width of his chest, her nails scrapping against the skin beneath the soft flannel shirt. “Oh yes, your chest is much nicer than Jensen’s,” she said almost dreamily. “And your butt… What can I say about your butt?” The laughter sparkling behind her eyes, she reached down and trailed tiny circles against the tight denim of his jeans.

His body leaped spasmodically at her touch and he found his teeth starting to grind. “Doc, if you want to kill me, won’t you please just use a gun,” he groaned out from between clenched teeth.





She gave a throaty chuckle and allowed her body to relax back against the inviting sheets. Staring up at him, she tried to capture this moment for eternity, let the image of him sear itself into her soul. With a start, she felt his still cold hands running lightly along the open V of her silk shirt. Lost in his eyes, her body began to shiver as he slowly unbuttoned her blouse.

The smooth material slid across her skin in a whisper as John delicately revealed the pale marble of her flesh. The only sound was the crackle of the fire, and he looked down on her with hooded eyes as he reached for the front snap on her bra. She lay motionless, watching him watching her. As she revealed herself to him, he sank back on his knees and turned his head to the heavens. He had never been meant for something as perfect as this.

She was captured by the heat of him. Lost in the play of light across his face, she watched mesmerized as the muscles in his neck corded in tempo with his suddenly ragged breathing. “Thank you...” he hissed into the blackness above. His head dropped and he sought her eyes. “Thank you.”

He looked down on her, lying beneath him. The glow of the fire washed over her, bathing her in the flames. Her body glistened, a pristine form, an angel fallen to earth. He ached with the need to be inside her and with a soft moan, he lowered himself gingerly down. Their bodies were a war of darkness and light and he watched as her skin puckered in response to the faint touch of his breath. He crept slowly up the length of her, drank in her essence, waited for her to make him stop. The only thing left between them was a whisper of space, a chasm of fear. Looking down into the molten gold of her eyes, he finally found the peace he sought. “I will love you beyond death.”

His need was beyond any she had ever glimpsed, any she had ever imagined. In long years of helping damaged souls, she had never seen anyone so broken. She would pay any price to stop his pain. She touched his cheek, allowed her fingers to slide over the clean planes of his face. Knotting her hand in his thick hair, she drew him to her. As his lips met hers in a hesitant kiss, she opened her mouth and claimed him as her own.

He could not breathe and he did not care. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the sensation. The feel of her lips against his, the taste of her mouth, the scent of her flesh. Finally, she pulled back to lie gasping on the sheets. “I will love you forever,” she answered him, her voice raw. Gently, she touched his face, wiped away the trail of tears that glittered against the dark skin. The smile he gave her said more than words ever could.





He bent down, tasted her lips, feathered kisses down her throat. The throb of her pulse echoed through her body and he sensed her life’s blood surging against the fragile skin of her neck. Moving ever downward, he grazed her nipple with his teeth, felt her hands grasp his head as she bucked beneath him. He tightened his control, fought the impulse to grind against her. His tongue flicked out and she rewarded him with a muffled moan of pleasure. The tiny bud hardened beneath his touch, beads of sweat making her skin slick. As his lips moved to firm skin of her stomach, his hands reached up to finish the job his mouth had started. He sucked gently as his rough hands caressed the flawless skin of her breasts. His tongue swirled lazy circles around the dimple of her belly button, his thumbs dancing across her now hard nipples. As he felt her begin to peak, he allowed his hands to slide away and he skimmed his fingers down her sides, barely touching the curve of her waist. Turning his head, he rested for a moment against the silken hollow of her stomach as his hands stroked the flair of her hips. He sensed her sigh, heard the frustrated moan in the back of her throat, and turned his attention to the tight jeans that impeded his exploration of her body.

She stretched her arms high above her head, felt the delicious tension that curled in her belly, burned in her groin. She ached for him, for his touch, for the feel of him inside of her making them one. The heat of the fire licked her flesh, fought with the chill of the night air that prickled her damp skin. Above it all was the pleasure/pain of his touch as it burnt through her flesh and splintered her bones.

She barely noticed when her groan of desire echoed from the rafters and she lifted her hips to let him pull her jeans down the length of her long legs. She was brought back to the moment by the touch of his hands, gliding up the outside of her bare legs, teasing across her hips, cupping themselves beneath her and running back down her inner thigh.

She had been with him a thousand times before. A thousand lifetimes they had completed each other and she would be with him for a thousand lifetimes more. Yet this time was their first, and he worshiped her with his body, his touch a silent prayer. His own needs were forgotten, a distant throb of flesh that paled into insignificance against the pleasure he wanted to bring her. He felt her twitch beneath his smooth caress, knew that he could make her wait no longer. He trailed his hands up the inside of her legs, teasing the soft skin where her legs joined the flaring hips. He cupped his hands beneath her and took her weight. Lifting her slightly, his heavy breathing ruffled the white-gold of her curls. As he moved to taste her, he heard her moan out.

“John… No. Please… don’t.”

“John, please don’t,” she sobbed, and felt him freeze in place.

“I’m sorry,” his whispered. “I shouldn’t have...”

His hurt was a palpable force. He doubted. He still doubted how she needed him. She hated that he doubted. Weaving her fingers through his dark hair, she pulled him to her and told him what she wanted.

“I want you inside of me, John. The first time… I want to feel you inside of me. I want to see your eyes and taste your mouth and feel your release,” she demanded, her voice husky, her words almost incoherent.

He stared down into blazing eyes, shocked by the passion that flared up at him. His self-control in tatters, he drew a deep breath and moved to give her what she asked.





He rose to his feet, towering over her waiting body. His eyes never left hers, yet he was aware of every inch of her. Too perfect- more perfect than the day he had first met her. Without thought, he ran his hands down his shirt, the buttons popping loose. As he shrugged out of his shirt, he was already moving to toss his jeans into the far corner of the room. He paused as he stood before her and realized that this was the image he would see as he drew his dying breath. A Goddess in gold and white, he would never be worthy of her.

He was a statue in bronze. Knotted muscles and flat planes, he was rock hard. The scars that marked his flesh were his only tie to the realm of the human. She smiled with the knowledge that he was hers. She would own him and he would possess her, an endless circle that would exist beyond time.





He eased gently down, afraid he would crush her with his weight. Holding himself off of her with his arms, he felt one slender hand pull against his back, felt a spasm as the other hand wrapped around him. For a tiny eternity, the world held still. With infinite slowness, he entered her. At the first touch, she bucked beneath him and he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He buried himself inside her warmth, felt the instance of her release, the grip of her muscles contracting around him. It was then he thought his back would break, and he reared his head and shouted his need to the gods.

She fell back against the sheets and he followed her down. As she gasped for air, he shuddered, his hardness still filling her. His eyes were cobalt fire and they swallowed her whole as he crushed his lips to hers in a bruising kiss. As his tongue skimmed the roof of her mouth, he pumped into her. The rhythm was smooth and slow and she instantly responded. Her nails dug into his sweat-slickened back as the soft bristles of his chest hair rubbed against her. Her fingers sought the hard muscles in his flank and she pulled him deeper, urged him faster. The fire grew hotter, the heat all-consuming. He screamed her name and thrust deeper. When his heavy warmth surged into her, her spine seemed to shatter.





They collapsed together before the embers of the dying fire. Bodies entwined in a frozen dance, it was no longer possible to tell where one began and the other ended. 

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