Chapter Nineteen #2
Robert held himself still against the need to plunge into her, claim her wholly, and kissed her again, putting all his love and longing into that kiss.
He felt her body start to soften again and open to him, and he started to move, a gentle slide, holding himself under absolute control even as the hot, slick clasp of her threatened every thread of restraint he possessed.
He heard her sigh and she reached for him, pulling him deeper within her, and it was glorious, and she tilted her hips up to meet his thrusts and he was lost. He felt himself tip over the edge and fall, hard and fast. The physical release was astonishing, blinding in its brilliance, sharp enough to make him groan.
Beneath that pleasure was another sensation, a need fulfilled, a claiming, a coming home.
He wrapped Lucy in the red cloak and carried her back to the house and took her up to his bed.
He wanted to make love to her again, but he knew she would be sore after this first time, so he contented himself with holding her and it was frighteningly good, the possessive desire submerged now in other emotions so powerful and deep that he was shaken.
It gave him a deep peace to hold her. It reminded him how much he loved and needed her, but with that love came the edge of fear.
Somehow he was going to have to learn to live with that fear because if he had his way he would never let her out of his sight again, and that, he could see, would be most inconvenient.
“Robert?”
She was awake. She reached out a hand to him and touched his cheek as she had done earlier, and once again he felt a shockingly strong pang of tenderness and need.
“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you before,” he said.
He felt humbled, different. He moved his head against the pillow and instead of the restless frustration that had driven him before he felt peace.
“I was trying to ignore how much I hated being on Golden Isle by burying myself in the work and refusing to discuss it.”
Lucy was lying beside him, her head supported on one hand as she watched him, her hair falling over her bare shoulders.
“It is no wonder you hate it here,” she said softly. “Your brother died, Robert. It is where a part of your life ended.”
Robert put out and hand and drew her down to rest against his chest. “And now it is where another part of my life begins,” he said. “My future with you.”
* * *
LUCY WOKE SLOWLY, in the dawn. She lay still for a moment. She was warm and there was a hum in her blood that felt like contentment. Something nagged at the corner of her mind, like a thought, like a shadow. Then she remembered.
Tonight there had been no nightmares.
She thought about what had happened. She had given herself to Robert with no thought of refusal, no thought of anything other than meeting his need with her own. He had reached out to her completely and she had wanted him too, loved him too.
She felt a tiny stirring of fear. It whispered across her mind, then faded away. She waited for it to return and to grow into the monster that always stalked her. She waited for the darkness to come. Instead there was nothing. The bed was warm and deep; she felt serene and content. She yawned.
She could be pregnant. Deliberately now she tested her feelings.
She forced herself to face the harshest fear.
Again she felt a faint stirring of disquiet, but it smoothed away like the sea washing away footprints in the sand.
She thought that perhaps she would always feel the fear a little—it was foolish to imagine that it would ever go away completely—but that somehow it had lost its power.
Rolling over, she looked at Robert. He was still asleep.
He looked very peaceful, the harsh lines smoothed from his face.
The stubble darkened his chin and his cheek.
Lucy paused. Behind the man she could see the shadow of the boy he had been when tragedy struck so hard.
She hoped that his hatred of Golden Isle had gone now.
She had known that he loved her. She had seen it in his eyes and felt it in his touch when he had held her with such ferocity and gentleness out on the cliffs.
She had known that his fury could have sprung from no other cause.
And she loved him too, for his strength and determination to do his best for his clan, for his loyalty, for his patience and his tenderness with her.
“Lucy.”
He was smiling at her. He reached out and traced the line of her shoulder and arm, taking her wrist and turning it over to press a kiss against her palm.
“How are you, sweetheart?”
She could see the shadow of doubt in his eyes. He was afraid that she would be regretting what had happened, that the night had plunged her back into the darkness of her fear.
“I am very well,” she said honestly.
“You are certain?” His gaze was very keen on her face.
There seemed only one way to reassure him.
She leaned down and kissed him. When she drew back, the light in his eyes had sharpened from tender to something a great deal more heated and intense.
She looked at him as the blue morning light illuminated every strong plane of his face, the hard, exciting line of his mouth, his jaw, his cheek.
He was watching her, and his gaze was very intent and very blue.
She knew he was waiting for her to decide what she wanted.
Last night had been impulsive, in the heat of the moment. Now he wanted her to choose.
Her heart crashed against her ribs. She felt excitement hollow in the pit of her stomach and steal her breath. She knew what she wanted.
They looked at each other for another long, long moment and then Robert tumbled her beneath him.
It felt impossibly urgent and desperate and yet at the same time so pure and intense.
Robert’s mouth was hot as a brand on Lucy’s throat.
She reached for him, careless of anything but sensation and need.
His hand came up to her breast, teasing, toying with her, stroking up the underside in a way that made her shiver.
She had already learned the vast, generous capacity of her body to enjoy its pleasure, and now she wanted to let go completely.
It was the first time that she had felt utterly free of shadow.
She tilted her head back and Robert tangled one hand in her hair, arching her breasts up to his mouth, and when he took her nipple in his mouth she sighed and felt the melting heat take her, softening her and making her eager for him all over again.
His hand stroked between her legs, his mouth tugged at her breast, she felt deliciously wanton as he played her body and slowly, inexorably, drove her toward mindless pleasure.
It was delicious, well nigh irresistible, and yet a corner of her mind rebelled. He was not to have it all his own way.
Quick as a flash she slid from beneath him. The shifting of weight on the mattress threw him off balance and he rolled over. Lucy shifted, moving to sit astride him, her hands spread wide and grasping the high wooden bed head, sinking down so that he impaled her. He was as hard as a rock.
His gasp of shock and pleasure was a reward in itself.
She started to move, easing herself up and back down, the sleek friction, the sense of control, giving her a rush of triumphant power.
She could feel every muscle in his body clenched so tense with the frustration of not being in command.
She leaned forward and kissed him softly, tasting him, then drawing back.
She brushed her breasts against his chest. She enjoyed his moan.
“Lucy...” His voice was a harsh whisper.
“Yes?” She paused and he threw his head back, the line of his neck taut.
“Don’t stop.”
She gripped him tightly. “Do you like it like this?” She raised herself on him, then slid down deep. “Or like this?”
“Minx.” The word was wrenched from him.
One final slide and he gave a groan and caught her around the waist, tumbling her beneath him.
The mattress dipped and groaned as he plunged into her.
Lucy arched to meet each thrust. The hot pleasure gripped her, irresistibly sharp, irresistibly sweet.
She came at once, tumbling over the edge, the clasp of her body quickening Robert’s as he emptied himself into her with a shout.
They lay in a hot, tangled knot of pleasure and release.
“Damn it,” Robert said, when his breathing had settled sufficiently that he could speak. “I wanted it to be slow and gentle this time.”
“Maybe next time,” Lucy said.
Robert threw the bedclothes over them both and drew her close into the crook of his arm, but Lucy felt too restless and awake to settle.
She felt drunk with the sheer physical pleasure of sex, the relief, the release.
She wriggled out of his arms and went across to the window, kneeling on the tapestry seat and staring out over the garden to the sea.
“How beautiful it looks so early in the morning,” she said. “So peaceful.”
“Come back to bed,” Robert said. He was propped up on one elbow, watching her, darkness and shadows and lust in his eyes.
It sent an answering spike of lust through her.
Wickedness gripped her, the sort of wicked she had never allowed herself to be before.
It unfurled in her like the purest temptation.
For so many years she had denied her physical needs.
Now she felt an almost desperate hunger to make up for lost time.
“No,” she said. She let the curtain fall open so that the pale daylight illuminated her naked body. “If you want me, come and get me.”