Gabriel's Redemption (Gabriel's Inferno 3)

Julia returned his smile, shifting the blanket so that she could take his proffered hand.

As they journeyed downstairs and across the yard, his expression grew playful.

“Have you ever made love in an orchard before?”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

“Then I’m glad I’m your first.”

She tightened her grip on his hand. “You’re my last, Gabriel. My only.”

He quickened his pace, switching on the flashlight as they entered the woods behind the house. He led the way, navigating over roots and uneven ground.

It was June in Pennsylvania and very warm. The woods were thick and the canopy of leaves blocked much of the light from the moon and the stars. The air was alive with the evening song of birds and the sound of katydids.

Soon they were entering the clearing. Wildflowers littered the expanse of green. At the far edge of the area stood several aged apple trees. Extending back into the remains of the old orchard, the new trees that Gabriel had planted were spreading their boughs toward the sky.

As they walked to the center of the clearing, his body relaxed. Something about this space, sacred or otherwise, always soothed him.

Julia watched as he spread the blanket carefully over the thick grass, then turned off the flashlight. Darkness wrapped around them like a velvet cloak.

Overhead, the full moon shone, its pale face occasionally muted by wisps of cloud. A clutch of stars twinkled above them.

Gabriel brushed his hands up and down her arms before tracing the modest neckline of her sundress.

“I like this,” he murmured.

He took his time admiring his wife’s beauty, visible even in the shadows: the arch of her cheekbones, the pout of her mouth, her large, expressive eyes. He lifted her chin and brought their lips together.

It was the kiss of an ardent lover, communicating with his mouth that he desired her. Gabriel pressed his tall body against her petite one, his fingers tangling in her soft brown hair.

“What if someone sees us?” she panted, before slipping her tongue into his mouth.

She explored him earnestly until he retreated.

“These woods are private. And as you mentioned, it’s dark.” His hands found her waist, spanning her lower back.

He traced the space where her dimples lay, as if they were landmarks that pleased him, before sliding up to her shoulders. Without ceremony, he slowly removed her dress, dropping it to the blanket. Then he unfastened her bra with a mere flick of his fingers.

She giggled at his practiced move, while holding the bra up to cover herself. It was made of black lace and was attractively transparent.

“You’re very good at that,” she observed.

“At what?” His large hands moved to cup her br**sts over her bra.

“At removing bras in the dark.”

Gabriel’s silence echoed around them. He didn’t like being reminded of his past.

She reached up on tiptoes to press a kiss to his angular jaw.

“I’m not complaining. After all, I’m the beneficiary of your skill.”

At this, he traced her br**sts through the lace.

“While I appreciate your lingerie, Julianne, I prefer you naked.”

“I’m not sure about this.” She peered over his shoulder, scanning the perimeter of the clearing. “I keep expecting someone to interrupt us.”

“Look at me.”

Her eyes met his.

“There’s no one here but us. And what I see is breathtaking.”

With another provocative move, his hands left her br**sts to trace the hills and valleys of her spine before covering her hips. His thumbs hovered over her skin. “I’ll cover you.”

“With what? The blanket?”

“With my body. Even if someone were to stumble upon us, I won’t let anyone see you. I promise.”

The edges of her lips turned up.

“You think of everything.”

“I simply think of you. You are everything.”

Gabriel took her offered lips and with great restraint slowly peeled the lace bra away from her body. He kissed her deeply, languidly exploring her mouth, before tugging her panties down.

Now she was naked before him in their orchard.

O gods of all orchard sex, she thought. Please don’t let anyone interrupt us.

She removed his shirt eagerly, her fingers playing in the few strands of chest hair before sliding over his abdominal muscles to unbuckle his belt.

When they were both naked, he wrapped his arms around her and she breathed out a sigh.

“It’s a good thing it’s warm tonight,” he whispered. “We only brought one blanket.”

With a smile she lowered herself to the ground and he covered her with his body. His blue eyes bore into hers as he placed a hand on either side of her face.

“‘To the Nuptial Bowre I led her blushing like the Morn: all Heav’n,

And happie Constellations on that houre.’”

“Paradise Lost,” she whispered, stroking the stubble on his chin. “But in this place, I can only think of Paradise found.”

“We should have been married here. We should have made love here for the first time.”

She ran her fingers through his hair.

“We’re here now.”

“This is where I discovered true beauty.”

He kissed her again, his hands gently exploring. Julia reciprocated, and their passion kindled and burned.

In the months since their marriage, their desire had not abated, nor had the sweetness of their coupling. All speech melted into motion and touch and the bliss of physical love.

Gabriel knew his wife—he knew her arousal and excitement, her impatience and release. They made love in the night air surrounded by darkness and the greenness of life.

At the edge of the clearing, the old apple trees that had observed their chaste love in the past politely averted their gaze.

When at last they’d caught their breaths, Julia lay weightless, admiring the stars.

“I have something for you.” He felt around for the flashlight and used it to locate his trousers. When he returned to her side he slipped something cool around her neck.

Julia glanced down to see a necklace made of individual rings. Three charms hung from the necklace—a heart, an apple, and a book.

“It’s beautiful.” She breathed, fingering the charms one by one.

“It came from London. The rings and charms are silver, except for the apple, which is made of gold. It represents when we met.”

“And the book?”

“Dante is engraved on the cover.”

She looked at him coyly. “Is there a special occasion I’ve forgotten about?”