The Astronomer

by Charmaine Pauls

  She felt it like a belt fastening around her lower abdomen. She gasped. “Emilio.”

  He didn’t move his gaze from her. Not once. His release was close. She could see it in the way his pupils dilated. He was only waiting for her now.

  “Emilio, come with me.”

  If he couldn’t caress her with his hands, his eyes did so. She swore she could feel him touching her with his stare, pouring emotions into her she didn’t know existed as he cried her name, fought not to close his eyes, not to look away from her, his face a twisted maze of pleasure and something deeper as he spilled his seed inside of her, her body accepting and hot as she climaxed around him.

  Only then did Fraya pull her hands from his, to circle them around his neck. She shuddered against his body, felt the beat of his heart penetrating her skin, her very soul. It was so beautiful she felt like crying. This wasn’t fucking, this was making love. And whilst he had satisfied her physical need, he had met another need, one on a different level she didn’t care to explore.

  He kissed her, deep and slow, before rolling from her and bringing her body with him. He turned her on her side against him, draped her leg over his thigh, and clasped her hand in his on his chest.

  They lay together for a while without speaking, and when Fraya felt more like herself again, the elated feeling of being somewhere in heaven slightly abated, she brushed her lips over the skin of his ribs.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “I don’t want to hear you say thank you for something that’s your due.”

  “I meant thank you for taking it slow. That’s what I needed tonight.” She hesitated. “Shall I go? I suppose I should let you get some sleep.”

  “Do you want to stay?” he said softly.

  “Just for a while, if it’s alright.”

  “I’m sure I can make an exception for my wife.”

  She could hear the smile in his voice, but it didn’t make her feel any more welcome.

  “I think I’ll rather go.”

  She moved, but his grip tightened. He nestled his chin in her hair. “I did promise to give you the emotional support a husband would give a wife. I’m sorry if I hadn’t met my end of the bargain. I guess I’m better at showing my feelings in a physical way. I’m just not used to someone actually sleeping in my bed. But I’m glad that you’re here. I want you to stay.”

  “So, no one has ever spent the night here?”

  “No other woman has ever been in this bed.”

  “But, how...?”

  He chuckled. “I prefer ... preferred ... to be in their beds. It’s easier that way to leave when you want to.”

  “So you never stay the night?”

  “Never.”

  “But you let me stay, the whole night, in Domfront.”

  “Yes. That’s true. But we didn’t sleep.”

  “Oh.” Her body warmed at that memory.

  “Rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

  She kept her eyes shut, trying not to see the image of him pulling a silk tie around her wrists, leaving her helpless so she wouldn’t feel guilty for the things she needed. She couldn’t for fear that she was already hopelessly addicted to her mate. All she wanted was not to think, for once. Fraya was a woman she didn’t recognize any longer. In as little as two days she had turned into a woman who wanted, and who wanted soft, deep and forever. Or had it already started a year ago?

  * * * *

  Surprise was his first sensation as Emilio woke with the rays of sunlight. He had slept next to a woman. His woman. And he had slept well. He looked down at her relaxed form, her ash blonde hair fanned over his pillow, her small palm flat on the mattress, her leg extending from under the sheet. She had come to him. She had come of her own. But not just for sex. She had come for something deeper, something he had omitted to provide. A feeling of guilt washed over him. Maybe he had been a tad bit too hard on her. Using the opportunity to study her, his eyes went over the silky smoothness of her skin, the frail sculptured bones, and the little red mark on her shoulder.

  Gently, he trailed her birthmark with his finger. She stirred and moaned. He stopped, but her eyes fluttered open.

  He watched her as recognition set in, saw her eyes widened slightly as she sat up, clutching the sheet to her breasts.

  “Good morning, Fraya.”

  She bit her lip. “Hi.”

  “Seems like you’re a first for many things in my life.”

  When she furrowed her beautiful brow, he said, “I mated you, and now I’ve slept with you.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ve heard that little word a lot from your mouth last night. I think you need to change your tune.”

  “Mmm.”

  He laughed. “I think I need to make you say something else.”

  “Mmm?” She moved back against the headboard.

  Oh, he wanted her. “You’re sober,” he remarked, reveling in the effect his words had on her.

  She was breathing faster. He remembered how she had writhed against his palm under the dinner table and later under his body, and he wanted to taste her. He didn’t get his chance last night and he was determined to set that right.

  He removed the sheet from their bodies, allowing her to look at him at her leisure before he said, “Lie on your back.”

  She moved down, watching him like an untrusting cat through those beautiful slits of her narrowed eyes.

  He pushed a pillow underneath her knees and came between them. “Spread them for me.”

  Fraya opened her legs invitingly. She did so slowly, keeping her eyes locked on his. She was getting good at this.

  “What do you call this, Mr. Larraín? A good morning fuck?”

  He grinned at her. When he was done with her, she wasn’t going to be such a cocky tease. Instead of answering, he lowered his head, holding her gaze, showing her his exact intent in the way his tongue lashed out and gave her a preview of what he had in mind.

  She gasped, loudly. Fuck, that was a turn-on. She moaned. Hell. He inched closer, taking her into the depths of his mouth. She groaned. Oh fuck this. So much for going slow. He devoured her–wild, hot and hungry...

  “Emilio! Fraya!”

  They both jerked.

  He shot up. “Fuck.”

  “Where are you, Emilio?” a voice called from downstairs. “Can we come up?”

  “Double shit!” He jumped up. “It’s my grandmother.”

  “What?”

  He grabbed her clothes from the floor and threw it at her. “Quickly. Get dressed. She’ll come upstairs. She’s not used to me having someone in my room.”

  “Your grandmother barges into your room?” she asked, staring at him like he was a circus act.

  “I wouldn’t put anything past her.”

  “Fraya!” Ofelia’s voice drifted up the stairs again. “Are you up? I’ve made you pancakes. And you’ve got a visitor.”

  Ana’s voice came a second later. “Hi Fraya!”

  “Fuck. Shit.” Emilio moved to a drawer and removed a large T-shirt and a pair of shorts that he gave to Fraya. “Here, wear this.”

  He quickly pulled on his running gear, looking over his shoulder to see how far Fraya had progressed. When she was decent, he opened the door and walked warily onto the landing. Of all the times in the world they could have chosen...

  Ana stared up from the entrance, his grandmother posed behind her.

  “Well, it’s about time,” Ofelia said. “I was just about to come look for you. I wouldn’t have been happy if you made me climb all those stairs.”

  Fraya emerged from his room, her face flushed.

  “I told you it was nonsense,” Ofelia said loudly to Ana.

  “What was nonsense?” Emilio said.

  “That you sleep in separate rooms.” She smiled, looking pleased. “Come, your pancakes are getting cold. Fraya liked them so much yesterday, I decided to make her some more.”

  Em
ilio took Fraya’s hand and led her downstairs. At the kitchen door he paused, holding her back. When Ana and his grandmother were out of earshot, he said. “We’ll continue this later.”

  * * * *

  Fraya shyly took her place at the garden table that Ana had set. She liked the woman, but didn’t she have a job? Ofelia placed a stack of no less than ten pancakes in front of her.

  Fraya glanced up. “All of this? For me?”

  “Eat up,” Ofelia said. “From the moans we heard when we arrived this morning I’d say you used plenty of energy that needs to be replaced.”

  She quickly looked back at her plate, trying to hide her embarrassment.

  “Grandma!”

  “Don’t ‘Grandma’ me,” she said to Emilio. “And you, not running, that’s a first. I can see this is going to be a very happy marriage.”

  “It will be if you stopped interrupting ... us,” Emilio said, giving Ofelia an affectionate grin.

  “So,” Ofelia turned to Fraya, “Isabella told me you’re leaving for Antofagasta tomorrow.”

  “Yes, for work.”

  “And how do you intend on doing that once you have babies? A mother can’t spend eight days here and eight days there and God knows where.”

  “Grandma!”

  “I’m just stating the obvious.”

  “We haven’t discussed those details yet,” Emilio said, coming to Fraya’s rescue.

  “Well, I suppose it’s your lives,” Ofelia said with a sniff.

  “Are you taking her, Emilio?” Ana said. “Can I come? I’ve never visited the Atacama Desert.”

  “No,” Fraya said quickly, before Emilio could answer. She needed to focus. Under normal circumstances she would have already been prepared for her first day at her first job. The only preparations she had made so far had been between the sheets. Or rather, on the desk and under the table. She felt her cheeks burning.

  “We haven’t discussed those details either,” Emilio said, but the look he gave her, told her that he had no intention of discussing anything. “We’re taking my company jet,” he informed Fraya casually.

  “But the SWO bought me an airline ticket.”

  “And it’s open-ended, so they can use it some other time. Better yet, they can use it for someone else.”

  She wasn’t going to argue with him in front of his family. Only a few minutes ago she had been ecstatic. Until they had gotten out of bed. If this relationship was only going to be good in bed, Ofelia was very wrong. She stared at him, making sure that he could see just how happy she was.

  Chapter Eighteen

  He could give her all the nasty stares he wanted, Fraya decided. Her mind was made up. This job was the one thing that had kept her going. Through all the difficult years it was something to hold onto, to believe in, and a part of her didn’t want to share that with him. If she did, he’d own that part of her too, and she’d have no lifeboat left. Maybe it was the part of her who knew how dangerous he was. How easy she could fall for him. She had done something last night she thought she’d never do–sneaked into his bed. But she wasn’t going to let him sneak into her heart. Owning her body was enough.

  Fraya watched Emilio from underneath her lashes during breakfast as he ate Ofelia’s pancakes and tugged playfully at Ana’s hair. When Maria arrived later and busied herself with clearing the table, Ofelia and Ana excused themselves and took their leave.

  Emilio took Fraya’s hand and led her into the foyer. “Want to do something fun today?”

  “I’ve got to finish packing and prepare for work. I’m leaving tomorrow, Emilio. There’s no question about it.”

  His expression became tight. “Why are you so determined to defy me? Why not wait until the condo’s ready?”

  Fraya didn’t want to fight with him, but it seemed that, outside of the bedroom, it was all they were doing.

  “This is important to me, Emilio. Please try to understand. How would you like it if I prescribed to you how and when you should do your job?”

  For a while he didn’t speak. Finally, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingertips, one by one.

  “Let’s go out for the day. We can talk about it over a picnic.”

  Fraya shook her head. “I don’t know, Emilio. I’m already behind schedule with the proposal I need to hand in on Monday.”

  “Come on. It’s Saturday. I promise to give you plenty of time for yourself tonight.”

  It was hard to deny him when he was smiling at her like that.

  “Alright,” she said reluctantly.

  His face brightened instantly. “Do you have hiking shoes?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Is an hour enough time to get ready?”

  “Too much. I only need to jump through the shower.”

  “I’ll meet you back downstairs in thirty minutes,” he said, pressing her hand to his lips for precious seconds.

  Going back upstairs to her own room, Fraya realized that she was disappointed that he didn’t invite her to have her shower with him.

  * * * *

  Emilio brought Fraya to one of his favorite rock climbing spots in a small green zone in the Maipo valley, an hour’s drive from the house. They left the rough terrain two-seat hybrid Rangler he used for outings like these in the parking lot and hiked the short distance to the bottom of a gorge. Cliff walls extended from both sides of the dry riverbed. Emilio checked Fraya’s hiking boots to ensure that they would grip on the smooth rock. It was a low and easy climb, but it could seem daunting for any first-time or beginner climber. He had brought her here not so much to share one of his passions with her, but for the bonding he knew came from the experience. Climbing partners had to trust each other completely. In more challenging terrains, your life depended on your companion and his judgment. Even without understanding the underlying psychology of the sport, one would feel the heightened sense of dependence and trust that resulted from ascending a rocky ledge together, or abseiling over its edge, and he needed Fraya’s trust.

  Fraya had her gaze fixed on the summit, her hands resting lightly on her hips. On his recommendation she wore long pants, tan safari style trousers that hugged her cute behind. He didn’t want to risk having her perfect legs scratched by branches or bruised by rocks. Her beige T-shirt was a female cut, tight fitting, drawing his eyes to the way her breasts heaved from the exercise. Her eyes were assessing and he could see the uncertainty in them now.

  “I don’t know, Emilio. It seems awfully ... vertical.”

  “I won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me.”

  Throughout the time it took to fasten her safety harness and to secure a cord from hers to his, she was quiet. Emilio could sense her anxiety, but she bravely didn’t voice it. He even thought he spotted a gleam of excitement in those dark, intoxicating eyes.

  He adjusted the daypack with their picnic lunch on his back. “Ready?”

  She laughed nervously. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Just watch my feet and put yours exactly where I put mine.” He gave her a quick peck on the lips and closed the clasp under her helmet. “Let’s go.”

  Fraya didn’t say a word as they slowly made their way up the cliff. At some stage he was worried that he had been over-optimistic, pushing her too hard too soon. Most climbers started practicing indoors, sometimes for weeks, even months, before they ventured into a real life situation. But when he looked down, he saw her following steadily, her hands gripping firmly and her feet treading solidly in his wake. He couldn’t help but be proud of her.

  Forty minutes later he heaved himself onto flat terrain and extended his hand to pull Fraya over the ledge. He removed her gear and her helmet, wiping the strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail away from her face.

  “Well done, Fraya. You were wonderful.”

  Her smile was radiant, proud, as she sat down next to him in the grass to admire the view. Below them the gorge snaked through dense vegetation until it disappeared from view into a
forest of pine trees. For a while they sat without speaking, catching their breath. When Emilio saw that she seemed relaxed once more, he got to his feet and took her hand.

  “Come. There’s a waterfall not far from here where we can have a lunch break. It’s a short walk.”

  When they reached the fall, he heard Fraya gasp.

  “Emilio, it’s beautiful.”

  His heart warmed. He was glad she liked it. The water fell from a high cliff, creating a roaring mass of foam beyond. The spray caressed his hot skin. There was rainbow dome over the white crush.

  Emilio removed the backpack and left it on a flat rock near the edge of the water. He pulled Fraya down.

  “Sit here where you’ll feel the spray of the water. It’ll cool you down.”

  He took a bottle of mineral water from the backpack, untwisted the cap and handed it to Fraya.

  She took it without removing her eyes from the scene. “Emilio, it’s so tranquil.”

  His eyes fell on the gauze she had covered the tattoo on her wrist with to protect it from the sun and dirt. She didn’t look at him when his fingers went to her arm, turning it up, unwinding the bandage to inspect her still injured skin. Satisfied that it was clean and dry, he covered it again and planted a soft kiss on the place where the white fabric covered his mark. Only then did she turn her head toward him. A smile broke across her face. It was such a carefree, uninhibited gesture that he didn’t move for fear of destroying the moment.