She won't let him finish like this, as much as the idea has appeal. No, she simply drags him closer to the edge with each twist of her hand, each drag of her tongue down his length, but as soon as she sees it becoming too much, she's up, in a flash.

Shushing his growl, Alice leans over him, kissing his neck and the concentrated cluster of scars there--so many more in one spot than on the rest of his body, the easiest place for newborns to have reached--soothing away the pain of their existence with her lips, tongue, teeth.

Her movements are hurried, almost frantic, as she straddles his thighs, lifting up on her knees to move the satin covering her to the side, her hand wrapping around him again to guide him into her. It takes the air she never needs out of her lungs, every time, the slide and stretch of him making her knees feel like jelly. A gasp, a groan, her small hand pressing hard on his chest as she lets herself adjust before rolling her hips forward. Eyes closed, lips parted, starbursts behind her lids.

"I love you," she whispers, her voice harsh as she pants, curling forward to kiss him desperately. "Oh, God, I love you."