"I brought you here to forgive you properly."
He began to laugh. It sounded demonic and he stopped abruptly. "Spread that blanket, sweetheart, and I will show you the depths of myWell, you will see."
"Yes," she said, grinning at him, her hand lightly stroking over his chest, "yes, knowing you as I do, I most certainly shall."
"It is chilly in here, Diana. Let's put the blanket near the entrance. You look exquisite with the sun shining on your body."
He stood in front of her for several moments, not touching her, merely looking at her. Then he began to strip off her clothes, very slowly, stroking each inch of her as it was uncovered, then he laid her on the blanket. He stood over her, still fully dressed, and stared down at her. He loved the whiteness of her breasts and belly and the golden tan of her legs and shoulders. He came down on his knees. Lightly, he reached out his hand and circled a nipple.
"Lyon," she whispered, "I feel embarrassed. You are fully clothed."
"Yes," he said, and leaned down to kiss her nipple and take it into his mouth. He laid his hand lightly on her flat belly. He felt the muscles tighten and his fingers moved downward to tangle in the
whorl of dark-blond curls. He found her, moist, swelled, and smiled at her. "I have decided to keep you. You are not cold, are you?"
She felt his fingers caress and probe and stroke. Her hips lifted. "Lyon."
A finger gently eased inside her. Her muscles clenched and she watched him close his eyes a moment. He was feeling her, learning her. It was intensely erotic and she moaned softly. "Please, your clothes."
"I can't, not yet." He opened his eyes. His finger deepened.
"Lyon!" She jerked upward.
Quickly, he opened his britches and lifted her onto him, impaling her, feeling himself so deep that he nearly lost control. Her legs tightened around his flanks, her back arched back against his arms. He kissed her deeply, feeling her take more of him, offering him all of her. He watched her face as he lifted her and lowered her on him. When his fingers found her, her eyes opened wide, and she cried out and he took that cry into his mouth. He was kissing her deeply when she reached her climax. She nearly toppled both of them in her frenzy.
As she quieted, he held her close, kissing her temple, smoothing her hair, stroking her back, even as his manhood throbbed and pulsed, demanding release inside her.
"Diana?"
She gave him a dazed, sated look.
"On your back, love."
He didn't leave her, but carefully lowered her. Then he was astride her, driving deeply, feeling her legs tightly clasp his hips. And it was she, this time, who watched his face at the moment of his release.
"This is very strange," she said, hugging his clothed body tightly against her.
"You are magnificent."
"I suppose that you are also." She lightly nipped his earlobe with her teeth. "You never took off your clothes. I feel terribly exposed."
"You are, and I love it. Your pleasureit moves me, Diana. It makes me feel like I have been given a gift that is as rare and unique as you are yourself."
"But you don't love me, do you, Lyon?"
He was silent. She felt his body stiffen slightly.
"No, it is all right. I don't love you either." That was a lie, but she didn't want his pity. She felt him pull out of her and flinched just a bit.
"Did I hurt you?"
She said honestly, "I am still a bit sore from yourwell, your deed of this morning."
"Deed? You are kind. Let me help you dress."
They left the cave after a bit of exploring. "It has a name?" he asked as they emerged into the late-afternoon sunlight.
"I call it Smuggler's Cave. Silly, of course, but not too bad for a ten-year-old girl."