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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] and the shutters rattled. She felt isolated from the rest of the world here with him. Don t you want something more from me? he asked. What do you mean? You don t think I only want you for this, do you? she asked, tightening her fingers around him again. He made a small sound, like a growl, deep in his chest. I should be helping you around here. I feel useless. Give me something to do. I am giving you something to do, she murmured, pressing herself against him. Before he could be insulted by her statement, she added, There s plenty that needs doing, but the weather isn t right for it. In the springtime all the trim will need painting, the gardens reworked, then .... She sighed, looking at him in the silvery gloom. His hazel eyes, shadowed by his lashes, appeared black. Will I be here in the springtime? I don t know. I d like you to be. Me, too, he stated quietly. Bending forward, she planted her hands on his chest and kissed him. I don t have any idea where we re going, she whispered against his mouth. There are too many unknowns, too many variables. You could have someone waiting for you, you know? I hope not, he said back, his breath drifting around the hollow of her mouth. I think I want only you. At his words, tears pricked her lids. He drove both hands into her hair, pulling her mouth down hard against his. His tongue moved languidly in contained heat and she recalled all he had been doing with it since they d met. Her thighs trembled, slick with the moisture of her arousal. Rolling, he positioned his body on top of hers, his thick cock pressed between her legs. She could feel the tip of it against her labia. How could we have not known each other? he asked in an undertone. I feel like I ve always been here, like your body and mine have always conformed to each other, belonged together, just like this, he said, sliding into her. Oh ... my, she whispered, feeling the heat of him spread rapidly into her veins. She reached for the box on the bedside table. No. Wait. Please, just wait. I want to feel you this way for a moment. It s so much better like this. I know, but & . Wait just a bit, he said again and began to move with torturous precision, in so far, then out, nearly free of her, hovering as if in indecision, before gliding back home. Over and over while she lay nearly still, held down by his body, by the weight of sensation, of heat flooding her abdomen, her limbs, as he slowly slipped in and out and in and out with a timing that made her tremble. Caleb & . Shhh. If he had changed his pacing, shifted his weight, she might have been able to come back from that place where she was drifting, but he was quite deliberate in his actions. In, and out, unbearably hot and slow, inexorably timed like the foaming surf of the ocean, relentless and endless and consuming. Caleb & . Go ahead, sweetheart, he whispered. Caleb & . DARK TIDES Celia Ashley 61 Shhh. Bound to where he held her by the very motion of his entry and retreat, she could see him in the darkness, the sweat-sheen of his skin, his hair grown damp, the pupils of his eyes dilated, the concentration of control. A single drop of perspiration fell from his brow onto her erect nipple, running over the curve of her breast. Oh, God. When she came, she dragged him to her, wrapping her arms around his neck with her mouth open on his as she cried out again and again into it, hearing his voice echo her release as he drove her down to a place where the silver light of the falling snow shattered and was gone. * * * * When Meg awoke in the morning, she knew she had been dreaming of Matt. He had been lying beside her in this bed of theirs, telling her about the child he had wanted while she slept. Odd, the way dreams worked. Sometimes you saw yourself as if you were standing on the sidelines watching. Closing her eyes, Meg touched her stomach, low, then slitted her lids to cast a glance at the box of condoms, retrieved from the place where it had fallen the night before. She thought of the possibility of pregnancy and closed her eyes again. Please, she whispered, not entirely certain what she was asking for. What a betrayal of memory that would be, to deny her husband the child he had wanted for so long, only to conceive in a coupling of uncontrolled lust with a man she didn t really even know. Amazed at the bitterness of her reflections, especially when she had felt so very close to Caleb the night before, Meg tossed back the covers and got out of bed. The other side of the mattress was tousled, but empty. The door to the hallway stood open. Caleb? She went to the door and put her head out. Caleb? Hearing noise in the kitchen, she called down the stairs as she was heading into the shower, Good morning! His muffled reply was friendly reassurance. She wouldn t have wanted her strange mood to be catching. Standing in the bathroom waiting for the water to heat up, Meg looked out the window at the frigid snow sparkling on the roof shingles and scattered across the sparse, sandy lawn. There wasn t much accumulation. Most of the precipitation appeared to have blown into sheltered areas and gathered there, leaving the road clear. Maybe she would give Caleb another driving lesson today. Re-lessons, surely, considering how fast he was picking it up. Stepping into the shower as the steam started to roll across the ceiling, she took her time bathing, washing her hair, wondering if last night might have been enough to get her pregnant. It only took once, after all. Not just one time, but just one narrow-tailed, swimming little sperm. In future, she would have to be more careful. Even if she considered herself ready, which she didn t, to put Caleb in the position of being a father was not fair to him. He might already possess an entire brood, for all they knew. And if he didn t, it didn t matter. Until he had some idea who he was, how could he be certain what he really wanted in his life? Turning off the shower spray with wrinkled fingers, Meg toweled dry, then wrapped her hair and went to the mirrored cabinet for her comb. Written with a finger on the steamed glass was a heart with an arrow thrust through it, together with a set of initials, interlinked. Though dripping, they were still clear enough to read. DARK TIDES Celia Ashley 62 Neither one of them was Caleb s. In years gone by, she had seen this heart, these matching initials side by side, written in the steam by her husband while he shaved and she showered. Her heated skin stippled with chill. No, she whispered, feeling lightheaded. Her legs gave out and she dropped onto the closed lid of the toilet, pressing her head between her knees. No, she breathed again. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |