Into the Fire by Donna Alward

floor.
    Chris reached over and pulled out the top drawer of his nightstand, taking out a condom. He ripped it open and, kneeling on the bed, sheathed himself.
    “You were prepared,” she whispered. Impatient from waiting, she ran her fingers down the soft skin of her belly, arching up.
    “After that night on the couch…” He knelt above her. “I knew it was a matter of when, not if.” His fiery blue gaze caught hers. “And I would protect you, Ally. Always.”
    Something changed. Something caught and shifted inside her, something big and wonderful and terrifying. Swallowing against the sudden lump in her throat, she reached down and clasped him in her hand, guiding him home.
    He slid all the way in, and for the space of a heartbeat, he held, his gaze locked with hers. In that fleeting second, Ally knew with all certainty that she still loved him. Perhaps more than she’d loved him back then. She loved the man he’d become. She loved the way he made her feel. There was something between them that had survived how they’d ended, and now flared to life as their bodies joined.
    And as he began moving, Ally felt indestructible.
     
    Nothing had prepared Chris for the experience of having Ally shatter beneath him, of being sheathed inside her as her muscles contracted and she called out his name. He felt ten feet tall and humbled all at once. And very, very close to his own climax.
    Her fingers released their hold on his bottom and her face glowed with the smallest sheen of sweat. God, she was gorgeous. He set up his rhythm again, watching the way her breasts moved with each thrust, adoring the dazed look in her blue eyes as her lashes fluttered open.
    “Your turn,” she said, a sexy smile curving her lips. And she ran her foot up his calf, along the back of his thigh, and then hooked it around his waist, levering herself up as he impaled her again and again.
    He was losing his tenuous thread of control and he gloried in it. Fastening his mouth on her breast he heard her gasp as she twined her fingers into his hair.
    And then he ceased to think at all, giving himself over to her completely until he came with a mighty roar of satisfaction.
     
    Ally felt boneless. At some point they’d crawled beneath the duvet, completely naked, and fallen asleep. The late afternoon sun was weakening, casting shadows in the corner of the room. She stretched, enjoying the sensation of her skin sliding along Chris’s sheets. He was on his side facing her, eyes closed, breath even.
    Naked, like her.
    She studied him for a while, examining the length of his eyelashes, a particular curl of hair at his temple, the precise angle of his nose and curve of his lips. His words came back to her… I would protect you. Always. He already had. He’d saved her life that day at the shelter. And he’d saved it since—not in the physical sense, but he’d given her back some sense of pride and confidence.
    She just wasn’t sure where they went from here.
    There would be time to think about that later. Right now she wanted to enjoy the sensation of being thoroughly, competently loved. Besides, Chris had changed, hadn’t he? He’d admitted that he’d rushed her before, and he’d accepted partial blame for what had happened between them. There didn’t need to be any hurry to figure it out or make decisions now.
    A thump at the doorway made Ally turn her head. Moose stuck his head inside the gap and whined. Before Ally could say anything, he pushed inside and hopped up on the bed.
    Chris’s eyes flew open as the hundred-pound ball of muscle and fur flopped between them on the bed. Moose pawed and rolled on the duvet, throwing his legs in the hair and letting his tongue loll out of his mouth in doggy bliss. With a laugh, Ally rubbed Moose’s belly, earning more twists and writhes of pleasure.
    “He’s not supposed to be up on the bed,” Chris grumbled. “He knows that.”
    “But look at him. He’s so happy.”
    “And what if he’d come in