Lifting the covers, he slid in beside her. The mattress bowed beneath his weight; instinctively she turned toward him, her arms, her body, reaching for him, holding him, embracing him.
Loving him in the dark.
Letitia dreamt, not that the years had fallen away, but that she’d trod a different path. That somehow her feet had found their way not just onto the path of her long ago dreams, but to the end of that road and beyond.
Beyond to a time and place where he and she were the lovers they’d once been, but older, wiser,
more mature. Where their love, given voice through long slow caresses, through rich, drugging kisses, through an acceptance of possessiveness that went soul deep, was more intense, richer, a broad river instead of a burbling stream, one that could carry more passion, more powerful emotions, infinitely deeper meaning.
His hands sculpted her body, reverently possessive, as if he couldn’t, still, quite believe she was his. That element of uncertainty in a man who could and did command all aspects of his life—wordless confirmation that her power as a woman over him still lived—quietly thrilled; she moved beneath his caresses, sensuously languid, taking her time to savor, to absorb, to let the pleasure of his loving sink to her bones.
To let it seep into her soul and fill it as he moved over her, parted her long legs with his hard muscled thighs and, with one slow powerful thrust, filled her.
She arched beneath him, the veil between reality and dreams flickering, as it had throughout. Some part of her knew that all she felt was real, yet this reality lay so close to, not simply her long ago dreams but the natural evolution that should have come from them, that the two effortlessly merged.
Dreams and reality became one as she rode with him through the night, wrapped in his strength, cushioned within his bed, cradled within the warmth of his loving. She embraced him, clung, took him into her heart, drew him deeper into her body, let her soul reach for his and wrap around it.
Merge with it.
That’s how it felt as they raced toward the peak, stretched, reached it, hung suspended for one bright, glittering, scintillating moment…then together they shattered, let go and fell, let release claim them, let the void have them, let glory fill their veins with incandescent pleasure, golden and glowing.
When it was over, and he’d disengaged and drawn her to him, she lay safe in his arms, cocooned in his bed.
It was easier, so much easier, to communicate this way, in the dark, through lingering kisses, intimate caresses. To show him, let him see…what in the stark light of day she still found hard to put into words, to declare.
In the dark, in his arms, it was easy to ignore the risk.
To ignore her underlying, perhaps irrational fear.
To simply love him.
Turning her head, she gently kissed his chest, then snuggled her head on his shoulder and let her dreams take her.
Sated, replete, so deeply satisfied on so many levels he couldn’t raise a thought, Christian held her close, closed his eyes—felt an emotion, familiar and strong, well and pour though him.
More intense than ever before. More certain.
Feeling her body stretched out along his, feminine curves pressed to his chest, her long legs tangled with his, her skin soft and flushed beneath his hands, he felt his lips curve as he surrendered to sleep.
Christian stirred her as dawn approached. Faint pearly light washed into his room, gliding ephemeral fingers over the bed as within it she cried out as passion crested and broke, and a long glorious wave of satiation washed through her.
Through them.
Holding the moment, and him, close, she wrapped herself in its warmth and, with a smile on her lips, sank back into slumber.
“Letitia?”
She sensed him shaking her, but refused to respond.
“I know I said I’d see you in the morning”—his voice was a gravelly rumble in her ear—“but I hadn’t envisaged it would be quite so early.”
She felt moved to complain. “Why is it so damned early?”
“Because you have a decision to make.”
“Oh?” She felt him shift in the bed so he was lying back against the pillows, his arms crossed behind his head. She considered, decided she had to know. “What decision would that be?”
“About what you want to do.” She felt his gaze on her face, then he went on, “Whether you want to make my staff very happy, or slip back to South Audley Street before anyone sees.”