Amber's moans and her final cry as she came sounded in Foreman's ears, and he did everything he could to make her climax last for her the way his had. Her stomach and thighs tensed, freezing for an instant, before she was bucking up against his touch and back down onto his fingers. Her hands were warm on his head and the back of his neck, and that evidence of her desperation made Foreman pleased with himself all over again.

Afterward, she relaxed, seeming as wrung-out as Foreman felt, and he eased his way back up beside her, answering her with a soft, tender kiss. He let his tongue flick out to trace her lips, and then to meet hers, but it wasn't demanding at all. He could still taste her--his mouth and chin were slippery with her moisture--and there was a hint of bitterness in her mouth that was probably the taste of his own come. Didn't matter, though. All Foreman wanted was to feel the gradual slowing of both their bodies, as they got their breath back and their hearts settled down to a resting rate.

Foreman was lying half-over Amber, but he didn't want to crush her with his weight, and when the kiss finally ended--slowly, trailing off gradually--he let himself fall to his side next to her, still meeting her eyes and feeling a warm, proprietary sense of caring--about her, about what they'd done. He couldn't help leaning in to brush his lips against hers one more time. He felt worn out, tired enough to fall asleep between one breath and the next. "Okay," he murmured. "That was amazing." He wanted to say it to Amber--you're amazing--but even now, on the verge of sleep, he knew better than to carry it further than they'd agreed to let tonight be.