As the music filled her, its pulsating, heavy bass line—Blaze’s rhythm—caressed her insides. She clamped down tightly, wanting to feel it all—every note, every chord—he was playing her as skillfully as he played his bass.
The music inside kept building and the fire in his eyes burned on, searing her soul. I can make it, I know I can! The bridge was approaching—she could make it that far. He didn’t ease up and she got close enough to feel the heat of the flames of release. Oh, Markus please let me make it! Master, please!
Finally, when she could take no more the pace decreased, the last cadence of the refrain melted away and she was safely on the bridge.