Chapter Twelve #3
There was nothing new to the mating of a man and a woman. Thea was no virgin, yet he made her feel as if this was the first time.
Their bodies were meant for each other. Instinctively, she knew what pleased him. He seemed aware of exactly what she wanted. She’d never made love with such intensity, such passion.
Any barriers still left between them were being destroyed through their desire.
Neal’s breathing quickened. His movements took on purpose. She lifted her hips, wanting all of him.
White-hot need had driven their coupling the night before. It now gave way to something deeper, finer. A spiral of sensation began forming inside Thea, winding tighter and tighter until she didn’t think she could breathe, let alone think—
The intensity of her release astonished her. It was as if she’d been moving toward a precipice and, having reached it, let herself hold for one heated beat before falling into bliss. Wave after wondrous wave of completion, of satisfaction, caught her up and wouldn’t let her go.
Neal experienced the same. He cried her name.
Her name. Then she experienced his release.
She could feel it in the innermost of her being.
He filled her in a way she’d not known before.
Her body was his vessel, and as they were both caught up, together, in the magic of this moment, she at last realized what it meant to be “one” with another.
One. Together. For always.
Tears came to her eyes. She closed them and held him tight as slowly he let himself lay upon her. Thea hugged him with all of her strength, never wanting to let him go.
It was a long time before either of them could speak. Neal moved first, just as she started to register the cooling of her body.
He rolled over, carrying her with him. Reaching for the counterpane, he flipped it over their bodies. For a long moment, they stared into each other’s eyes. This was what contentment felt like, she realized. In this moment, she wanted nothing but this man.
She pressed a kiss at the corner of his mouth. He smiled beneath her lips. “Are you happy?” she whispered.
“I am.”
His eyes were closed. She decided to kiss them as well. “I am too.”
She snuggled into the crook of his arm and fell asleep, only to be waked a few hours later to him making love to her. And so they spent the rest of the day into the night.
Thea even woke him up the hour before dawn. She still hadn’t had enough of him. She nibbled and teased until he brought her down on top of him.
They fell asleep again, and she’d never known such peacefulness. . . .
She didn’t know she was dreaming. The fire seemed real. Thea could swear she felt the heat of it. Sweat dripped from her body, and the hairs on her head and arms literally sizzled.
And there were mirrors. It was as if she was trapped in a house where every wall was a mirror; instead of one reflection of her melting in the heat, there were dozens. Instead of one fire, she was surrounded by them.
Where were her sons? Where was Lyon?
Were they trapped in this hell with her as well? She had to find them. She rushed in one direction. The flames grew higher, hotter. Her path blocked, she turned in a new direction only to find herself once again trapped.
And then she heard the laughter. Someone knew she was here. Someone had trapped her. She shouted for help. She shook her fist and challenged her captor, afraid she could not last much longer.
The laughter didn’t stop. It continued even as her dress caught on fire, even as the flames climbed her body. The laughter did not stop—
Neal shook Thea awake. She’d been moaning, as if she’d been in great pain. When her eyes opened, they were glassy and full of fear. She didn’t recognize him at first, and then she released a huge sigh.
“It was terrible,” she said.
“What was?” he asked, already fearing her answer.
“My dream.” Thea struggled out of the covers, which her thrashing had tangled around her. She pushed her hair back from her face and frowned, as if still not certain she’d had a dream. “It seemed so real.”
“What was it about?” he said, sitting back against the tufted headboard and pulling her into his arms.
She rested her head on his chest. “I don’t remember.
” She tilted her face up to his. “Isn’t that strange?
I know it was vivid and frightening, but I don’t remember .
. . except for the laughter. Someone was laughing, and it wasn’t a joyful sound.
It was more triumphant.” A shiver went through her, and she snuggled against him with a soft sigh.
“I’m so glad you are here. I hate bad dreams.”
“I hate them as well,” Neal said, brushing her hair with his lips and keeping his voice calm.
“Your heart is beating fast,” she murmured. She placed a palm upon his chest. “It’s as if you have the fright and not myself.” She pulled his arm around her and fell asleep.
But sleep didn’t overtake Neal. He held her in his arms. In a very short time, she had become the most precious thing to him. He must protect her.
But she’d had the dream.
She’d had the dream.