This is lust, Grace. Lust. That’s all he feels for you. That’s all he’ll ever feel for you.
But the heart she tried to silence cried out its love. And begged for Matthew to love her in return.
She clenched into climax, clutching at him, imperiously demanding he stay inside her. Still he rode her. Taking her higher into blinding pleasure. The blazing rapture sent her reeling. At the peak, she called out his name.
This time when her passage gripped him, she held on until he joined the glorious conflagration. She milked him until he was spent. Even then quivers of ecstasy shook her.
He groaned and pulled away to lie at her side, struggling for breath. She ached all over. She’d never felt so good. She turned her head to look at her lover. Her lover. Languor thick and sweet as molasses oozed through her veins.
She watched his lips curve in a weary smile, creasing his cheek. She loved his smile.
You love everything about him. You love him.
Dawn must be close. To confirm the thought, the first bird called from the orchard outside. Matthew drew her into his arms and kissed her softly. She breathed in his musky sweat and nestled against him with her hand on his heart.
Matthew emerged from sleep slowly, luxuriously. It must be nearly noon. He swam up from the depths of a calm warm sea. The glittering sea of the far south that he’d read about. A blue sea under a glorious sun. A sea full of pearls and exotic creatures and soft silky water.
And mermaids.
Indubitably there were mermaids in this sea.
His particular mermaid slept naked in his arms.
When he was inside her, she undulated in endless waves like a sea of pleasure. How startled he’d been when he realized she was capable of climax.
But then, he knew so little of women.
Perhaps he hadn’t wasted those lonely years learning scientific method. After the hash he’d made of the first time, he seemed to have got the idea. He already planned further experiments. Perhaps he’d write a treatise.
He smiled.
A treatise in scholarly Latin for the journals that published his botanical work. A treatise on pleasing the woman you loved. That should make them sit up and pay attention.
Her essence lingered where he licked his lips. She tasted of salt and female. He wanted to taste her again. The thought made him hard. Or harder. He’d woken in a familiar state of arousal.
The room was a wreck. Bedcovers trailed on the floor, the mattress wasn’t square on its frame. Clothes lay scattered where he’d thrown them.
He lay flat on his back under a crumpled sheet. His arm circled her bare shoulders and she turned toward him so her slender form shaped itself to his side. One hand rested on his chest. Her nails were uneven and torn from physical work. The calluses on her hands were silent testament to her familiarity with drudgery. The faint roughness of her touch had been erotic torture last night.
Difficult to believe she’d been married nine years. Sleeping with perfect trust in his embrace, she could still be sixteen. A gentle pink flushed her cheeks and her lips were red and swollen from his kisses. They were slightly parted, hinting at the dark mystery within.
Looking at her face, he noted the marks his shadow beard had left. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted more than that. He beat back burgeoning desire. She was exhausted.
A tendril of hair snaked over her shoulder to curl across her breasts. Her beautiful breasts. The nipples were full and pink, not the sweet hard nubs he’d suckled last night. It was the difference between a tightly furled rosebud and the softness of an open rose. The change fascinated him. As did the faint pattern of blue veins under her white skin.
His beard had left traces there too. He’d kissed her everywhere, hadn’t he? The sensitive skin of her thighs must bear his mark too. The thought pleased. As though he’d secretly branded her his.
He wondered what she dreamt.
He could imagine. But perhaps he gave himself too much credit. He bit back a snort of derisive laughter.
My, aren’t we proud of ourselves this morning? Quite cock of the walk.
Grace sighed and snuggled closer. The soft exhalation made his sex throb. It wasn’t so different from the breathy sounds she made when he took her.
He’d loved hearing her lose control. He wanted to hear that again. And soon.
Not yet. It was too sweet lying in this sunny room remembering the night just past, planning the night to come.