Chapter Seven #2
Her hands went to his shoulders, pulling him down on her. Wanting the pressure of his strong, hard body on her. Widening her legs, lifting her hips, inviting him. Imploring him…
Her nails dug into his shoulders, neck lifting, muscles tightening. Hunger growing.
‘Lycos, please. I can’t…’
He looked down at her, a smile playing at his mouth, his eyes half-lidded. Her nails dug deeper, hips lifted higher. This was a torment, a hunger she needed to sate. A desperation.
His smile deepened. ‘Is this, my beautiful Arielle, what you want?’
He slid his fingers from her, with the flat of his hand widening her thighs, moving over her completely.
‘Allow me to oblige,’ he said with a smile.
He entered her straining, yearning, imploring body in one strong, powerful thrust. With what remained of her conscious mind, which had turned to mush under his skilled and tormenting caresses, she meant to warn him that it had been a long, long time since she had last known intimacy with a man. That her body was out of practice.
But any warning was as unnecessary as it was unsaid.
He had prepared her well.
She gave a gasp as he thrust into her.
He filled her. Absolutely and completely, their bodies fusing into one. And as they fused, glory took her.
It swept over her. Swept up from the very heart of her, to possess her totally.
A single glorious, incandescent flame that burst within her.
She cried out. She was pulsing around him.
Enveloping him, enclosing him, drawing him further and further into her.
She could feel her body fusing around his, feeling his strength, his flesh becoming her own flesh.
She cried out again. The burning glory of it, the wonder, the ecstasy.
His name broke from her lips, over and over again.
Her hands slid around his back and pressed into him, holding him as closely as she held him within her.
She could feel him shuddering within her. Heard him cry out too. She was rocking against him now to keep the glory, that endless ecstasy, pulsing and pounding through her.
She was not crying out now. Now sobs were breaking from her throat and her spine was bowing. Thighs wrapped around him, neck arching forward. Pressing him to her, never to let him go…
How long it lasted she did not know. Only that slowly, infinitely slowly, she was coming down.
The ecstasy possessing her was becoming an echo.
A sweet, sighing echo. She felt her straining muscles relax across all her body, her thighs loosening.
Yet she did not relinquish him. She held him close still, close within her, though his muscles had slackened too.
She felt him lift himself on one elbow, saw him looking down at her with a softness in his eyes.
His hand smoothed the tangled locks of her hair away from her face. His mouth brushed hers.
‘Arielle,’ he said with a voice that was as soft as the light in his eyes. As soft as the touch of his hand. ‘My beautiful, beautiful Arielle.’
She saw his long, dark lashes lower over his eyes, heard the sigh of repletion, of passion fulfilled, in his breath.
Heard his breathing slow. His head lowered to her shoulder and, as her hand folded around the strong nape of his neck, her own breathing slowed.
Her eyes fluttered shut and she joined him in sleep.
Sweet, satiated and complete. Holding Lycos in her arms.
The only place she wanted him to be.
Lycos padded back to the bed from the bathroom. Dawn was approaching and already the night sky was paling. He could see Arielle outlined beneath the coverlet he’d pulled over them both at some stage of the night. She was still asleep. He was not surprised. Their night had been…
Active.
To possess her once had not been sufficient.
Though could anything exceed that first incredible union?
He had known his desire for her had been certain and strong.
But she had shown him a hunger of her own for him that had been like a burning brand, igniting him with a flame that seared him in a single thrust of his body.
The intensity of his response had been something he’d never experienced before.
Because she gave herself to me. Hungered for me.
Her desire for him came from herself—natural, ardent and passionate.
She is like no other woman.
He folded himself down beside her, drawing her sleeping body against his, hearing her murmur as he did.
Her body was soft against his, moulding back against him.
His arm held her close, her scent beguiling him.
Drawn back against him, he felt her closeness start to have its inevitable effect on him.
But he let it die away. He, too, needed more sleep yet.
Passion could flame again when the sun arose.
And it could fill their days and their nights. But for now, sleep was all he wanted.
And Arielle in his arms.
Lycos stretched languorously on the sun lounger by the pool. ‘Mmm. That feels good,’ he said. Arielle was massaging sun cream onto his back. The slow, warm, ultra-sensuous strokes of her palms were very good indeed. And all too easily arousing.
He changed his thoughts quickly. There was time enough for that later. A lot more time. Any amount of time in fact.
As much time as I want.
And, right now, what he wanted was this. Just this. Here at the mas. Long leisurely days, long sensual nights. No rush, no agenda, no demands, no diversions. Simply to enjoy what was happening.
Being here. Slowing down. Taking things easy.
With Arielle.
Going with the flow.
And the flow was good, very good. Simple, leisurely, detached from anything going on anywhere else.
He felt himself relax into the slow, sensuous massage that Arielle was giving him as she perched beside him on the lounger.
The feel of her hip indenting into his. The scent of her body—a body he now knew so, so intimately—caught his breath and mingled with the rich aroma of the sun cream she was smoothing into hissun-warmed skin.
The soft palm strokes ceased.
‘Don’t stop,’ he murmured.
‘You’re all done,’ said Arielle. He could hear the smile in her voice, as she stood up. ‘Time for a cooling drink.’
Lycos watched her go. Her natural grace, the unconscious sway of her body, so alluring even without her realising it, all held his gaze.
As she disappeared through the stone gateway, he let his gaze lift to the sky.
The afternoon sun was still high, tiny cloudlets puffing to the west, warmth flooding through him. So peaceful. So quiet.
Even the ducks were quiet. Maurice and Mathilde were nestled down in the shade on the far side of the pool, their heads buried in their folded wings as the pool water gently lapped against the filter.
Only the ever-invisible cicadas seemed to be active, along with a few butterflies that were busying themselves with the lavender bushes against the old stone wall and a bird that was pecking randomly in a flower bed.
Peace and quiet. Quiet and peace. It soaked into the warm stone of the house, the garden wall, the paving around the pool. Soaked into the lavender-scented air.
It soaked into him.
He let his eyes close, the brightness of the sun pressing on his lids. He wondered what he was thinking and then realised he wasn’t thinking anything at all. Only that this was good. This moment. This day. This time.
Time that seemed to have almost stopped.
Turning over slowly, unhurriedly, uncounted.
Turning with the hours of the day, the setting of the sun, the rising of the moon and the pricking out, one by one, of the gold stars in the dark velvet night.
Easing towards the morning and the sun lifting in the east, its rays stealing over the roofs of the barns, threading through the canopy of the sheltering trees, awakening the birds, rousing the hens and the ducks from their night’s slumbers.
Rousing him and Arielle, from their entwined arms, their tangled legs, their desire-sated bodies. To start the day all over again.
How long he had been here at the mas he scarcely knew and did not care. He only cared that Arielle was here and time had ceased.
Arielle crossed to the sofa, snuggling down beside Lycos, piano abandoned.
At his invitation she often played for him after they’d dined, notes rippling soothingly as he relaxed on the sofa, watching her through half-closed eyes.
Now, the final nocturne finished, she joined him.
He put his arm around her and pulled her close against him.
His long legs stretched out, crossed at his ankles, free hand cupping his liqueur glass.
She reached to take a tiny sip herself from it.
How strange it felt sometimes to be so intimate with him, even in little gestures like that.
How strange and yet how entirely natural.
As if it has always been like this.
And always will be.
A shadow flickered in her eyes as she rested her head against his shoulder.
But it wouldn’t always be like this, would it?
She had given herself to Lycos. To her own consuming desire for him, that glowed within her like a sweet, sweet flame.
And to his desire for her that made that flame burn so wondrously.
But for how long would that flame burn?
She did not want to think about it. Did not want to do anything other than accept what had happened, feel wonder that it had and feel this deep contentment that filled her every moment of every day. Every gold-limned day.
Here, with Lycos.
While he wants me.
While it pleased him to stay here, at the mas, with her. Day after timeless day.
She felt him drop a light kiss on her hair.
‘Today was good,’ he said.
She tilted her face to him. ‘It was, wasn’t it? And you truly didn’t mind my dragging you along?’
He laughed—a relaxed, indulgent sound. ‘My first grape harvest,’ he mused.
‘You did well,’ she praised him. She’d responded to a call by her neighbours, Jeanne and Claude, saying they were shorthanded that day.
She always lent a hand when they asked, exchanging her labour for wine.
She’d passed the request on tentatively to Lycos, but he’d volunteered willingly.
They’d driven over in the morning and pitched in all day.
They’d then shared the communal evening meal Jeanne had prepared for all the workers. Again, Lycos had joined in cheerfully. Arielle had been aware that Jeanne’s knowing eyes had taken in that she and Lycos were on more than friendly terms. But she’d said nothing, and for that Arielle was grateful.
She had been glad, too, that Lycos had been civil and neighbourly to the couple whose land neighboured that of Mas Delfine.
She hoped it meant he would not sell the mas to new owners who would not be good neighbours to Jeanne and Claude.
She pushed the thought away. The time would come when the mas was no longer her home, but for these precious final days, however long they lasted, she would not let thoughts of the future spoil this golden time.
My swan song, made possible because of what has happened between Lycos and myself. Giving me good memories of this last time here, instead of sad ones.
For that she would be grateful to Lycos. As for anything more…
She must not ask. This must be enough.
He was speaking again and she paid attention.
‘Would you mind if I abandon you tomorrow morning?’ he asked. ‘I’ve promised to take young Daniel out for a spin in my car.’
Arielle’s face lit up. Daniel was Jeanne and Claude’s son, home for the harvest. The lad had been instantly wowed, and dead impressed, when she and Lycos had arrived in Lycos’s growling monster.
‘Oh, that’s so kind of you!’ she exclaimed warmly. ‘He’ll be your fan for life!’
Lycos laughed. ‘He’s a nice kid,’ he said.
She brushed his cheek with her lips. ‘And you are a nice man, Lycos Dimistrios,’ she said softly, warmly, her eyes aglow. ‘A good man.’
He met her eyes, a curious light in his. ‘Good?’ he echoed. ‘I’ve not been called that before,’ he said slowly.
For an instant that strange look held in his eyes. Then it changed. Became very familiar.
And its effects were very familiar.
She felt her breath quicken, her pulse quicken, her lips part.
His kiss was sensuous, arousing. She heard him deposit his liqueur glass. Felt him shift position and get to his feet, scooping her up into his arms as he did so. She gave a cry that was half laugh, half gasp.
He kissed her again, more deeply, more arousing. Eyes devouring hers. Heavy-lidded and with one expression, one purpose, in them only.
‘Bed,’ he said. The single word was a husk and a growl, and a promise that made her insides melt.