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'Then do,’ I said, 'and please hurry.'

He grinned, still hovering on the brink of penetration. He lifted the scissors from the pillow beside my head. 'Shall I cut you free first?'

'Oh, yes. Yes, please.'

I wrapped him close as he sank inside with one long, humming, quivering push. My hands roamed his back, loving the furrow of his spine, the fans of muscle at his sides. His breath came in anguished pants. He coaxed my thighs wider with a gentle caress. My calves squeezed him home the final inch.

He closed his eyes in blind pleasure, then opened them and kissed me softly on the lips.

Still and speechless, we throbbed together - our hearts displaced to that intimate juncture of yin and yang.

'You've got to move,' I said, though I, too, loved the hanging pause. 'I can't bear it.'

'Yes,' he said, drawing back and sinking again. 'Yes.'

There were no more words then, only sighs and moans and bodies slapping together with ever increasing
fervour
. The bed creaked. Joe gripped desperate fistfuls of the navy coverlet. Oh, the noises he made, as though I were stabbing him with that long, smooth spear. Sweet pain. Sweet union. The miracle of body contained in body. Could we ever get close enough? We lunged in sync to double our separate strength. We groaned together. We sobbed for air.

'Now,' I said, soaring through the ache and wanting him with me. 'Now, now.'

But he wouldn't let go. His face twisted as my spasms gripped him. He drove through the juicy internal convulsions, blinking sweat from his eyes.

'Again,' he said, and he changed angles, pumping the sweet spot behind my pubis. 'Let me feel you come again.

I guess he wanted proof of how much I loved him, how much my body loved him. Or maybe he needed to show himself master in this, as well - master of himself.

'Joe,' I began, but the plea was lost in a second rippling crescendo. My spine arched off the bed. My nails scored his back. I didn't want to hurt him, but I literally couldn't control myself.

'Good, Kate, good,' he panted. He rose up on his arms, locked his elbows and quickened his thrusts.

I knew he couldn't continue this way. A vein pulsed at his temple. His lips drew back in a snarl.

'Joe, please,' I begged. 'Please, love, come.'

'One more,' he gritted out. 'One more. Ah, God.'

Then he jolted inside me, coming, shaking, moaning

so loudly the sound alone drew the one more he craved from the depths of my sex.

We cried out in unison. We clutched each other like sailors swept overboard in a storm, dying the little death, taking our first step into a new life.

My heart took a long time to settle back to normal. As it slowed, I looked inside myself, trying to determine what I felt - light-headed, mostly, or maybe just light, as though I'd set down a burden I'd been carrying a long time, a solitary burden.

I touched the huge, marquis-cut diamond with my thumb. Could I really marry him? Could I believe in happy endings the way I had as a child? Did I even know Joe any more?

He stirred beside me, turned his body towards mine. 'I want another
favour
from you, and I want this one without coercion.'

Well, what was one more? 'Name it,’ I said.

'I want you to promise you'll never make me do that again.'

I looked him full in the face. He was serious. 'You can't tell me you didn't enjoy yourself. You came like a freight train.'

Annoyance thinned his sensitive mouth. 'You know I liked what we did today. What I didn't like was hurting you.'

"Then why did you?' I went up on my elbow. 'Because you did hurt me, you and Sean both.'

His eyes filled. 'I know I walked a fine line, Kate, and I'm sorrier than you can imagine. But you had to know I could master you. You were afraid to give your body and heart to the same man. So you let Sean master one and me the other. You kept yourself safe that way. But safe isn't good enough any more.' He traced the tiny lashes beneath my eyes. 'I had to prove my nature is as powerful as yours - or Sean's. I simply choose to exercise my power differently. We are equals, Kate. We're just different.'

I stared him down for a minute but he didn't look away. He believed what he was saying and, after today, I guessed I believed it, too.

Suddenly, I saw the
humour
in it. He'd mastered me only to beg me not to make him do it again. 'Does this mean you refuse to top me once we're married?'

He
realised
what I'd said before I did. Not 'if' we're married, but 'once we're married'. Ducking his head to hide his grin, he wiggled my sparkling diamond back and forth. 'I might agree to crack the whip now and then,' he conceded, 'if you ask me real nice.'

'I waited for Sean to say something like, 'I'm sorry I didn't let you know what Joe was up to,’ or, 'I'll miss our Wednesday night workouts.'

Beyond offering the requisite congratulations, however, our decision seemed not to affect him. All through the wedding planning insanity, he maintained a cheerful front. He was helpful and sensible, an unshakable voice of reason.

For instance, I'd married my ex at City Hall. I didn't see why we couldn't do that again and throw a big party afterwards. Sean knew better. With boundless patience, he explained why Joe's family - and Joe himself - would consider only a church wedding meaningful.

'Don't worry, though. Joe's mother's cousin is an aide to some archbishop. You shouldn't have any trouble with the annulment.'

I raked my hair back. 'That's like saying my first marriage never happened, which is a lie.'

Sean spread his hands. 'God works in mysterious ways, babe. Who are you to complain if He
smooths
your path?'

Not having been taught by Jesuits, I didn't know how to argue with that.

'Grin and bear it,' he advised, 'for Joe's sake. If he sees you're unhappy, you know he'll let you elope, and he'll be sorry for it later.'

No doubt this was true, but Sean's attitude unnerved me.

At one point, when it looked like my father wouldn't tear himself away from a long-standing golf date, Sean even volunteered to give me away.

Tears blurred my vision. I confessed that, in a way, I was his to give; part of me would always belong to him.

'Which part?' he asked with a
cartoonish
leer. But he also gave me an odd sideways glance, as though calculating how much truth my words held - and what advantage that truth might give him.

I told myself I was being paranoid, or thinking wishful. I knew I'd miss him. Even if I didn't love him the way I loved Joe, with Sean I could let my hair down.

One night, tired of playing United Nations negotiator to the future in-laws - and one or two beers beyond my limit -1 told Sean I wished we could forget the wedding, just go back to the way things were in the beginning.

We were sharing a corner table at the Irish Pub on Walnut, on a weeknight, so it wasn't too jammed. We had to watch where we went these days. Joe had a knack for throwing on a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles and passing himself off as nobody, but sometimes even Clark Kent blew his cover. Luckily, he didn't get mobbed. His fans could, however, occasionally make pests of themselves. Tonight he was stuck in a potential investor's meeting for the recording studio. Since he was now an hour late, Sean won the bend-your-ear sweepstake for my horrible day. Lucky Sean.

'Don't kid yourself, Kate,' he said, giving his mug a thoughtful twist. 'You're a nester and so is Joe. You need to commit. You need to belong to someone.'

'But I'll miss you,' I grumbled.

Sean smiled into his beer. 'I'm glad to hear you say that.'

Joe walked in then with a flurry of apologies and kisses - so I never did ask why Sean was glad.

The three of us went out the night before the wedding -no drinking, just dinner and dessert at the
Osteria
Romana
, a lovely, old-fashioned restaurant near the Italian market. Its stucco walls and sparkling white tile floors were a far cry from the dives we used to frequent, but the veal saltimbocca was worth every penny. Happily, none of us had to count pennies these days.

Joe and I finished with decaf and biscotti. Sean ordered a scoop of raspberry gelato.

I wondered if he remembered the first conversation we had over the icy treat - when he revealed how he and Joe met, and let me know he wasn't averse to a three-way adventure.

If he did remember, he didn't mention it. We shared other stories: the Robert Cray CD Joe wore out trying to lure me into his room; Keith's pitiful crush on Cheryl; Marianne's new career; the look on my face when I found Sean's uncle's sweaty crew tramping through my house with the makings of our gym.

Our gym. The phrase made me drop my chin to my hand. It had been Sean's and my gym for the last six months. He hadn't removed his equipment yet. Would he come to work out after tomorrow? Would Joe mind? Was he secure enough to assume Sean and I would behave? I certainly intended to. If anything, my experience with my ex had increased the value I placed on marital fidelity. I would never hurt Joe that way. I hoped he trusted me. Still, I didn't dare ask my questions aloud.

Sean burst out laughing, distracting me. 'Remember Captain Blood?'

'And his lucky eye-patch?' I added,
revelling
in Joe's blush.

'I still have it,' he confessed. His eyes twinkled. 'I remember how it got lucky, too.'

Sharing those stories felt like the last day of summer camp, full of good memories, but wistful. Though I looked forward to going home, so to speak, I'd miss my playmates.

When the three of us started yawning over our plates, Sean and Joe walked me back to Society Hill.

Sean stopped Joe short of the front steps by flattening his palm across his chest. Joe's brows shot towards his hairline. The unspoken challenge did not move Sean at all.

'Sorry, buddy. You can't go in, not even for a good night kiss. She's got the dress laid out in the living room. It'd be bad luck for you to see it.'

'Oh.' Joe took a hesitant step back and looked at me.

I shrugged. I didn't know what Sean was up to, either.

Reading our expressions like a book, Sean staggered in mock dismay. 'I swear I'm not sneaking in for one last slap and tickle. I want to give Kate my wedding gift. You know, the one we talked about.'

The stiffness left Joe's stance. 'Oh. Sure. Sorry, I shouldn't have -'

'Forget it.' Sean waved his apology away. 'I kind of like being considered unscrupulous.'

Despite Sean's promise to behave, my nerves tightened as he dug his gift from the deluge that had recently overwhelmed my dining room.

He emerged with a shop-wrapped white and silver box. Lilies of the valley sprayed out from the bow. Shifting from foot to foot, he ruffled the silk flowers with his thumb.

'I was considering a bun warmer, but I thought you'd like this better.' He thrust the box in my direction. 'Happy wedding, or whatever people say.'

I set the box on the one clear corner of the table and
prised
off the lid. Inside was a dog-eared stack of letters bound in blue satin ribbon. I touched one loop of the crooked bow. Sean must have tied this one. I skied my finger down to its central knot. The envelopes, all neatly
slitted
, held letters. Sean's

Curious but wary, I lifted them from the box. 'What are these?'

'Love letters.' Sean stepped closer. Though we didn't touch, his body heat warmed my back. "They're addressed to me, but most of what's in them has to do with you. I hope you don't mind that I cut out the parts that were private.'

I shook my head in confusion. 'Joe was writing to you about me?'

'Yup. About once a week. He asked how you were, who were you dating, what did I think of this dream he had about you, and could I please send some of your
favourite
lavender soap because he couldn't find it anywhere in New York.' Chuckling, he reached around me and tapped the letters. 'He told me all the things he was too proud to share with you - his setbacks, his triumphs, the fantasies he invented to get off by when he couldn't stand the thought of coaxing another stranger into bed. Not that there were so many.'

I sensed Sean's grin without seeing it.

'All the fantasies starred you, of course. They're pretty hot, so don't read them when he's out of town.'

'But why didn't he write me?' I asked, letting out my last scrap of
unsoothed
hurt.

'Aw, Kate.' Sean's hand settled to my shoulder. 'You don't know how many times I wanted to tell you he still loved you. But the idiot swore me to secrecy. I'm not sure he was wrong, either. Do you really think you'd have ended up here if he hadn't backed off for a while?'

I thought about that. Maybe Joe did have to leave before I could see him clearly. I'd locked him so firmly into his niche: Sean's bottom, my lovesick puppy. The truth was he'd had power over us both all along. The scales were never as unequal as I'd assumed. I just couldn't admit it back then. Like Joe said, I was afraid to let one man have all of me.