Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Asliver of warm sunlight had heated his skin as Perry had awoken from slumber, lazing in the meadow amongst the wildflowers and grasses.
This place was so familiar. Covering his eyes as the brightness danced around him, his temporary blindness enhanced his other senses.
He recognized her scent before he saw her, a breeze of gardenias surrounding him, then drifting away, leaving him bereft.
Sitting up on his blanket, he hunted the nymph who dared approach him, dared to interrupt his sweet reverie.
Could it be she had sought him out after so long?
His chest ached as the sweet sound of her laughter danced on the breeze.
A sound he had missed with every part of his being.
Could it be she still lived? Was he dreaming?
How could he be, when everything seemed so real?
Perhaps she was a ghost, only seen in his mind.
Pushing himself up on a somehow pain-free arm, he gave chase. He would never miss an opportunity to crash into this ethereal being that had tormented his thoughts for so long.
Peregrine ran, pushing aside branches and dodging obstacles without losing track of his prey.
Waves of silky light brown hair floated behind her as she kept just out of his reach.
He didn’t understand why she suddenly appeared to him, sending him into a frenzy of longing and need.
He ran in his bare feet yet felt no pain as the mossy forest floor collected his footsteps and erased them as he passed.
The forest was thick, he ran between large trees and stumbled along as Charlotte seemed to float before him.
Beckoning.
Though he could not see her face, her musical voice drifted softly, caressing his ear.
How he had missed that voice. It soothed him, a balm to his very soul.
He had forgotten how the sound of her could weaken him, like a kick to the gut, and set him afire.
Lungs burning, he ran to see the teasing smile that beckoned him further.
She was his forest nymph, leading him on a merry chase. He would always find her.
They had met in the forest, fallen in love beneath the canopy of oak trees, and laughed as the shade protected their secrets.
She knew the forest by heart. Each tree and lush fern moved to make a path for her as her cream-colored chemise danced in her wake, not getting stuck to any branch or bush.
She was his dream, and he longed to bury himself inside her and not come up for air.
“Lottie, wait,” he called out to her, and her head turned for a moment as she continued to run just out of his reach.
The chase both frustrated and delighted him.
If this was to be the dream that tormented him, he may as well enjoy it.
Her sweet scent surrounded him, lush and intoxicating.
His eyes to rolled back in his head in pure pleasure.
“I’m here, Perry,” she said as she leaped away from him.
A whisper of soft cotton tickled his fingers.
He almost had her. His body filled with a sense of daring as lust surged in his loins.
No woman had eased the ache or filled the emptiness since she had disappeared from his life.
If he was lucky enough to hold her in his arms again, he would die a happy man.
He longed to feel the lustrous skin beneath his palms, taste the lush rose-colored lips.
Her petal-soft mouth would taste as sweet as it looked.
Each step drew him closer to the warmth and love radiating from her.
His desire was fueled by an assault of memories, his adrenaline pushing him forward.
Harder. Faster. How he yearned to feel something again.
As a man who had been numb for so long, her presence overwhelmed him.
He was painfully aware of how blindly he had been walking through life, seeking this fulfillment and that distraction, yet somehow achieving nothing.
She was an abundance of feeling, of sweetness, of soul-shattering adoration, all wrapped in a dagger that would stab him directly in the heart once she left again.
Because he knew.
He knew.
It wasn’t real.
He was dreaming.
Charlotte was dead. She had been taken from him before they could ever discover what they were destined to be.
So, Peregrine ran. He ran like a man running through the desert toward a mirage.
He would drink from the fountain. He would revel in the passion.
He would catch her and make her his, knowing in the back of his mind that none of it was real.
He would steal his sweet Lottie and drown in the waters of their passion, if only for a brief moment.
Since the shooting, his days blended together in a feverish haze. Perhaps Charlotte was an angel, come to bring him to paradise. He would gladly follow her anywhere now that he had found her. If this was death, he would fearlessly cross the bridge to be in her arms again.
“Lottie, I need you,” he begged softly, and she turned. Their chests heaving from the exertion of running, his eyes ate up each tempting, and sun-kissed inch of her skin. Her hand wrapped around his, and he pulled her toward him. “I caught you, my forest fairy.”
Charlotte whimpered as he wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to him. He was desperate to feel the closeness, the warmth, and to bask in her glow again.
“Of course you did. I let you catch me,” she spoke softly, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
They were sheltered by the trees that wrapped themselves around them, keeping their love safe. A worried frown furrowed her brow, which he found absolutely seductive. Their energies were tangible as they mingled. Heat poured off her body, as though her skin were lit aflame.
“I cannot resist the pull between us. Can you feel it?” He watched her intently, his palms running down the sides of her arms.
“Yes. It is wonderful,” Charlotte admitted breathily with a quivering exhale.
Closing his eyes, Peregrine savored the whisper of her words as they danced on his lips.
She was caught.
He opened his eyes, and the angel was before him, entrancing him, as though no time had passed between them.
She pushed him gently to the ground, and he was at once lying in a pillowy bed of moss and ferns, with Charlotte settled across his lap.
Her long brown hair cascaded down her back and over her ample bosom, surrounding him with her enchanting fragrance.
“How I have missed you,” he said, tears prickling his eyes. A sob died somewhere in his throat. He would not give in to the sadness. Her touch brought back such a familiar sense of peace. He savored the electricity as a shiver of desire skated over the surface of his skin.
“No one has ever made me feel like this,” he confessed, bringing a hand to her face, drunk on the feel of their breaths mingling.
Cupping her silken cheek in his palm, his thumb brushed achingly slowly over her lips, as though trying to imprint the feeling into his own skin.
Time stopped, allowing them to stir the memories and feel the essence each had been missing.
A tear slid beneath his finger, fallen from her haunting brown eyes, and he smiled.
“You mustn’t weep, dear Lottie. We are together at last,” he said.
“I thought I would never kiss you again,” she said as she leaned over to brush her lips against his. Salty mingled with sweet as he deepened their kiss.
Peregrine moaned; she tasted so sublime. There was no heaven like this. He slanted his head as his tongue ran along the entrance of her mouth, coaxing her to open to him, as she had done so many times before. Her hands roamed his linen shirt. His body raged with a fever of longing as she explored.
Tugging at the ribbons securing her chemise at the bodice, he pulled them apart gently.
He slipped inside to feel the warmth of her skin hiding beneath the delicate lace and cotton.
Charlotte moaned softly against his mouth, her nipple hardening in his hand as he kneaded the soft peak.
She seemed to ache for his touch as deeply as he did for hers.
The pain of longing was punishing and relentless.
His hands smoothed down her waist as they moved to lift the hem of her chemise.
He exposed the side of her thigh, eager to continue his exploration.
A fire burned that could only be extinguished by Charlotte’s tender caress.
She moved her satiny lips to his chest and stoked the flame of his desire with small, fluttering kisses.
It had been so long since he had needed to be touched by anyone that his protective walls disappeared as his forest nymph had her way with him.
“I must touch you,” he said in a gravelly voice, desperate for her to allow him his own liberties. She guided his hand over the curve of her hip, placing it under her chemise, where nothing but heat awaited him.
“You little minx. I love it when you’re ready for me,” he growled as he gently squeezed her thigh and moved his hand toward her core.
Charlotte let out a little cry as he discovered the source of her heat, the center of her desire, begging for him to explore further. He used his thumb to twirl around her little bud, massaging along her slit and spreading the bountiful moisture he found there.
“My dear Lottie. Are you certain?”
She whimpered and nibbled his lower lip as she braced herself for the tender invasion.
He muffled a groan as his finger entered her.
Her tight sheath clamped down on him, her sweet honey easing his passage inside.
His mouth went dry as the imagined the feel her squeezing his cock the same way.
His length throbbed against her silky thighs, waiting for attention.
“Touch me,” she whispered. “I am on fire.”
“Touch yourself, my Lottie. Caress that beautiful skin. Show me,” Perry insisted, as she moaned and moved against his finger. She was so luscious and demanding. He could sense her excitement growing and pressed a second finger inside her as she drenched his fingers.
“That’s it. Show me how you like it,” he insisted.
His eyes grew heavy as he watched her tentatively bring her hands to her stomach, then eased a palm on each breast as he filled her with his fingers and gripped her luscious curves.
He hoped she would find her release soon as his cock pressed against his breeches, eager to fill her.
He watched her with hungry eyes, eating up each movement of her hands on her breasts.
She pinched her nipples tentatively and moaned as she tightened on his fingers.
His gaze heated, devouring how she took her pleasure. “Squeeze them again. Yes, show me.”
She lovingly stroked her breasts, teasing and rubbing her nipples. He sensed her peak approaching as her passage fluttered around his fingers. Her movements grew more impatient. With a few honeyed strokes inside her, Perry moaned as she cried out.
“You’re so beautiful when you come for me,” he said, his voice more breath than sound.
Her release tore through her, soaking and squeezing his fingers. His sweet nymph flushed, a soft pink tinge spreading from her cheeks to the delicate peaks of her nipples. He was completely besotted. Entirely enchanted.
“Perry,” she breathed, his name a plea coming from her lips. “I need you.”
“Show me how well you can take me. I want to remember,” he rasped desperately as she moved to untie his breeches. He dragged his fingers to his mouth, eager to taste her release. A tortured groan slipped from him as she released his cock from its prison.
He guided his aching shaft to her slick entrance.
Charlotte lined him up to her core and lowered herself slowly onto his length. He could barely restrain his hiss of ecstasy from slipping out.
Christ, she was sweet.
Perry forgot the pleasure that could be had from being with his perfect Lottie. His time with his wife had been purely for duty and he had always failed to get more than a quick, perfunctory release from her body.
Charlotte made him want to bathe in her slick heat and take his time, though it was unlikely he would last that long. He groaned, his head leaning back into the moss, softly cradling his head. His eyes rested on the rays of the sun shimmering through the dancing leaves. This was heaven on earth.
“Oh, Perry,” she whispered breathily as she slid down his shaft, “does this please you?”
“Yes, my love. You are doing it just right,” he said, his core trembling with the force it was taking for him not to spend his release immediately. His breath hissed out of his lungs, the pleasure exquisite.
His climax was building, as it did when one was long deprived of love.
Even before, it had never been like this.
Their youthful summers were spent experimenting beneath the shade of the trees.
It had never been this uninhibited and exultant.
He moaned with pleasure as she eased herself once more up his shaft, and he shattered.
“Charlotte,” he murmured softly as he spilled his hot release into her, thrusting his hips relentlessly until he was finished.
Destroyed. Her lips found his in a final kiss, and he closed his eyes, savoring the moment.
He clutched her in his arms, reluctant to lose the one his soul had been calling for so long.
Perhaps if he held her tightly, she would never leave him again.
Perry’s eyes flicked open, and the sweet nymph disappeared.
He was in his bed at Fermoy, staring at his night darkened room.
His arms were empty. The torturous images in his mind had tricked him, and despair clawed at his chest. He startled at the feel of his damp release on the sheets.
Hot shame tore through him as a pent-up sob slipped from his mouth.
He was rather pathetic in his mourning. His head sank into his downy pillow as the dreamy haze dragged him back into the arms of Morpheus. Wherever she was, he knew she was safe.
Tucked away in his mind and in his heart.
She was his forest maiden.
She always had been.
The forest would protect their secrets.