Cord’s mouth was on hers, and her nails were buried in the skin and firmness of his shoulders. Unabashed by her greed, Florie rode this second wave of pleasure that may have been even more magnificent than the first, had she been comparing them. She wasn’t, of course. She was too engrossed in reaching the apex of fulfillment, this time with Cord, as one, unified.
Chapter Six
Cord had dreamed, imagined and believed coupling with Florie was the epitome of life, but now, buried deep inside her, experiencing surge after surge of ecstasy, he knew he hadn’t come close to how profound it truly was. Heated and excited, his blood pounded through his body like a raging river. With a final, deep and gratifying thrust, he released, joining his very essence with hers.
She moaned deeply, and he kissed her, thoroughly, again and again until they both were limp and groggy. The thought his heaviness was too much for her had him pushing off the plush sofa. Holding his weight with his hands near her shoulders and his knees still settled between hers, he cast a gaze into her eyes. They were so blue he could almost see himself, and the emotions looking back at him took his breath away.
Her fingers, warm and soft, trailed down both his cheeks, and then wrapped around the back of his neck. “Oh, my,” she whispered.
He wanted to laugh out loud, shout for joy and hug her tight. He settled for planting a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. Her lids fluttered shut as a docile sigh escaped her lips.
The couch was soft and comfortable, but not quite wide enough. He wanted to stretch out beside her, hold her close as she drifted off to sleep. As if she read his mind, she twisted. He wedged his frame between her and the back of the sofa as she settled onto her side, making room for him. Folding his arms around her, he stroked her silken skin while her breathing slowed.
His heart gave a few fast thuds. Slipping a hand to her waist, he palmed her stomach. He’d best contact the preacher today. Repeats of what they’d just done could create a new life. The thought thrilled him, and he buried his nose into the lushness of her hair, content to let weeks of sleepless nights catch up with him.
When he woke, he was covered with a quilt. His pulse quickened, and he sat up, tossing the covering aside. His clothes were neatly folded and piled on the nearby armchair.
“Florie?” He stood. “Florie?” Wrenching on his britches, he hopped one-legged until both feet were inside the pants. “Florie!” he shouted, tugging the waistband over his hips.
“What?” she asked, meeting him in the arched doorway leading to the kitchen.
Relief washed over him. He framed the delicate curves of her face with both hands. “I missed you,” he said before covering her mouth with his.
She returned his kiss, but not as enthusiastically as he expected. He leaned back, took in the blush covering her cheeks.
Their couch activities must have messed her hairstyle. The long, thick tresses now tumbled over her shoulders to hang down her back. He liked that better than the array of curls pinned up, and she still looked as beautiful as a picture in Harper’s.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She pointed toward the kitchen stove. “Della brought over some lunch. Are you hungry?”
“Yes, I’m hungry.” He pretended to sniff the air. “What is it?”
She giggled and stepped aside so he could enter the kitchen. “Chicken and dumplings.”
“That’s better,” he said, kissing her temple.
“What’s better?”
“Your smile.”
She bit her bottom lip, bowing her head bashfully.
He lifted her chin with one finger. “I like to see you smile, Florie. I like it a lot.”
Her blush was endearing. He led her to the table, noticing the kettle bubbling on the stove. “Sit down, I’ll dish us each a plate.” He paused then, wondering how long he’d slept. “Or have you already eaten?”
She shook her head.
“Good, it’s my turn to wait on you a bit.”
The meal proceeded with small talk that Cord enjoyed, but made him question how Florie almost jumped from the chair each time he brought up a new subject.
“Did you find the things I bought you?”
She frowned.
“By the front door. Those boxes and packages.”
Gathering both of their empty plates, she stood. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?”
“Well, because.”
“You saved my life, Florie.”
She walked across the room. “I didn’t come here for you to repay me.”
Their earlier behavior had been spectacular, but it hadn’t answered the dozen questions that once again spun in his head. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a widow?”