Lon's breath quickened; he could feel Joli rippling around him, sending exquisite bolts of lightning rushing outward, along nerve and spine, scorching new pathways of pleasure. Joli was close it seemed, her face screwed tight with concentrated need, a pulsing keening wail already building from her, and he sought to help her over the edge. He leaned down, kissed her collarbone, and left a thin trail of saliva as he licked and nibbled his way down, as far as he could along her breast; when he could bend no further, his hand intervened, bringing the erect tip up, allowing him to kiss, lick, and suckle at the tender nub. He shifted, arched his back to allow his body to slide slightly, up along hers, even while continuing to torture her nipple with with tongue, teeth, and lips, a shift that allowed each thrust of silken flesh to drag heavy up against clitoris, each stroke a wet slide teasing the electric button of ecstasy hidden there within her folds.<br/><br/>He could feel the first stirrings of clenched preparation in his own groin, a flood of pleasure building behind a dam of anticipation, a flood he did not want coating the fertile soil of Joli's garden; despite Laurin's comments to the contrary, Lon was not ready for children, his own or those of others, and although he could imagine a day when he might be willing to risk such an entanglement, today was not that day. He grunted slightly, a sound that could have been mistaken for one of pain by someone who could not see his face, or the expression of intense concentration at holding back the growing explosive torment begging - no,<em>demanding</em>- release.<br/><br/>He heard a groan and echoed moan, and realized Balfor had loosed his seed; an eventuality that Lon knew he would face sooner rather than later.