Chapter 10 #2
He was taking his time, deliberately stamping his body on hers, giving of himself freely. He wanted there to be no doubts about his feelings for her.
He was going to show her. If it took days or weeks, he would show her that they belonged together.
Her tongue met his, body arching, heart frantically responding to the seduction.
Her eyes went wide when he filled her. He went still, lifting his mouth from hers.
His hands tugged hers from around his neck, so that he could interlock his fingers with hers.
They stayed that way for what seemed like hours.
.. bodies joined, flesh against flesh, heart beating against heart.
His eyes met hers and held the poignancy of his feelings transparent on his handsome face.
The light of the slender moon streamed through the drapes, throwing shadows inside the room. The air was thick with tension, their stillness taking on a significance that wasn't lost on her.
She did not dare move. It was as if she was suspended in time.
As if this moment the universe was suspended to accommodate them.
His strong lean body covered hers and she felt as if she would die if he removed himself from her.
The passion frightened her, and she wanted to flee from it.
It was too much, so achingly strong, she wanted to hide her face and deny what was happening.
Her lips parted, but nothing came out. Understanding that words were not necessary, he bent to her, the kiss slow and evocative.
It was only then that he moved. His thrusts were slow and lazy, his body sliding into hers, going deeper until he was lodged there.
It was a place he never wanted to leave.
He felt her breath quickening, swallowed the helpless moans deep inside his throat.
When she erupted, he felt her silky warmth gliding over him.
His body bucked and shuddered as he tried valiantly to hold back his own climax.
He lost the battle. With a tortured groan, he emptied himself, plunging into her until he was drained. Even then, he did not stop kissing her. Feeling weak and completely shattered, she wrapped her arms around him and surrendered.
*****
She pretended to sleep. Even after he gathered her against him and she was sprawled across his damp chest, she evened her breathing and pretended to be asleep. She knew it was the coward's way out, but she did not want to talk.
She was vulnerable and weepy. The tears were still on her cheeks, her eyes still wet. Within minutes, she heard the sound of his even breathing, indicating that he had gone under. She dare not stir in case she woke him up and she needed this space and time to think.
If he were not holding onto her so tight, she would have climbed out of bed and gone into one of the other bedrooms to be alone. He was in love with her. And she suspected she was in love with him too.
But love, she reminded herself, was not supposed to feel so overwhelming and raw.
She wondered if this intensity would be the end of her, or if it would only draw them closer together.
Lying there, listening to his heartbeat steady and strong beneath her ear, she felt her guard slipping bit by bit, her heart daring to hope for something real and lasting between them.
She had loved Michael, and she was desperately trying to convince herself of that.
Yes, she had loved him. She was going to marry him, wasn't she?
He had asked several times, and she put him off, insisting on them waiting.
But what she had felt for Michael had been a gentle kind of yearning, a contentment for who he was.
It had been nothing like this... this powerful intensity that threatened to overwhelm.
Maybe it was just a violent attraction that would fade over time.
She had told him she did not want his love, and she meant it.
But lying here in his arms, feeling the steel of his arms around her, she felt safe.
For the first time in a very long time, she wanted to be with someone.
She was not going to complicate it with feelings of love.
She was going to make him understand that if he wanted to be with her, he was going to refrain from telling her that he loved her.
They enjoyed each other's company and that should be enough.
It had to be enough. She did not want anything more than this.
Then why did she feel this gnawing in the pit of her stomach?
Why was she aching for much more? She gave a slight jolt as the realization hit her.
They had been making love without thinking of the consequences.
She had not even thought about it. A frown touched her brow as she tried to think back when the last time was she had her periods.
They were heading into February, and she had been so busy with work and everything else, she had not marked her calendar.
With Michael, she had been so careful. But with Dimitri, she felt as if she was jumping off the cliff with no safety harness. Closing her eyes, she willed the problems away and drifted off.
As sleep threatened to claim her, she became keenly aware of the silence pressing in from all sides.
It was as if the world outside had faded, leaving only the two of them suspended in this fragile cocoon of tangled sheets and unspoken words.
She replayed the night in her mind, searching for certainty and finding only more questions.
Would she wake tomorrow and find the spell broken, or would the weight of what had happened settle more heavily on her heart?
*****
She woke again to the scent of coffee brewing and the space next to her on the bed empty.
Rolling over, she laid there cocooned in the warmth he had left behind and the lingering scent of his cologne.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to put last night out of her mind.
It was not happening. Pushing out of bed, she padded to the bathroom and took a quick shower.
She did not have to go in early this morning but had every intention of finding an excuse to get rid of him.
Selecting a slim line ash gray pants at random, she dragged out a silk ruby red sweater.
Boots, she decided. Her hair was a mess.
Standing in front of the mirror, she used gel to smooth down the edges.
Trying to get the thick coils to cooperate was a frustrating effort.
In the end, she left them loose. Slapping on lipstick, she considered herself ready.
Telling herself it was not cowardice, she loitered inside the room before heading out.
He was standing with his back turned to the doorway and staring out the window.
A cup of coffee was in one hand, and the other was in his pocket.
One broad shoulder was propped against the sill, and he looked so solitary, she had to resist the urge to walk over and wrap her arms around his trim waist.
Clearing her throat to alert him to her presence, she crossed over to the coffee pot.
Turning from his contemplation of the scenery, he followed her movements with inscrutable dark eyes. He had woken in the early hours of the morning and just laid there staring at her and yearning to be in that position for the rest of his life.
"It's going to snow." He said it conversationally, giving no indication of the argument of last night.
Taking his cue, she popped in toast to go with the slices of ham and eggs on the counter.
"Looks like."
"Babushka is experimenting with some new bulbs this morning. I promised to help." He brushed by her to pour some more coffee.
"What type?" She had to stifle the need rising up. He had not greeted her with a kiss and for the first time since meeting him, he wasn't smiling or teasing her.
"Hybrid roses." He sipped coffee and continued to watch her. "You should wear a scarf."
She opened her mouth to tell him she didn't need a mother but decided against it. "I have one in the pocket of my jacket."
"Good. Make sure you wear gloves." Emptying the cup, he went to put it in the sink, before turning to her.
Her heart quickened in anticipation as she waited for him to touch her. And had to hide her disappointment when he simply dropped a kiss on her forehead.
"I'll see you later."
"Your breakfast..."
"I'm not hungry. Be sure to eat." With that, he strode from the room, leaving her staring after him.
She continued to stare at the empty doorway even after she heard the front door slam shut.
He had just left without her demanding that he did.
And what the hell was this hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach?
She was the one who had wanted him gone, right?
So why did she feel as if he had taken something vital with him?
A heavy silence settled over the kitchen, pressing in on her from all sides. She absently buttered her toast, trying to ignore the sting of unshed tears welling behind her eyes. The breakfast she had prepared now seemed unappetizing, the warmth draining from the room along with his presence.
He was probably pissed. Slapping the toast on the plate, she sat down and picked up her coffee cup.
Well too bad. Maybe she had gotten through to him after all.
That was what she wanted, wasn't it? He had assumed she would fall all over herself when he made his declaration. She had certainly set him straight.
Putting the cup down, she stared broodingly out the window and noticed absently the first flakes drifting against the windowpane.
Maybe he would not come around again. Ignoring the sharp twist of her heart, she picked up the cup and forced the liquid past the lump that had suddenly developed inside her throat.
If he stayed away, it would be for the best. There was no future for them and the sooner he accepted that, the better it would be for them.
Pushing to her feet, she dumped the rest of the coffee into the sink. The meal was untouched. Her appetite had gone from healthy to zero in a few short minutes. With tears burning the back of her eyes, she left everything on the counter and went to get her coat.