The Model Master

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  "I understand it all now. It was the night I came to you for help. You weren’t drunk, you were having one of your spells, and you were about to drink the laudanum, weren’t you? The broken glass all over the floor..."

  "Yes, yes, I was," he admitted, the tears beginning to fall even as his blood raced through him like a galloping steed.

  "Then I was sent to you to save you. My feet were led unerringly to a doctor’s house to save my children, and I was led there to save you. Promise me, Michael, no matter how unbearable-"

  He met her eyes and said earnestly, "I promise. I swear to you. I’ve been given a second chance, and I’m not going to ruin it. Even if I never walk again, so long as I have your love, and that of our children, I shall never, ever give up."

  She gasped in surprise as he heaved upwards with his arms and rolled on top of her. He gritted his teeth at the movement in his legs and hips, but his shaft had found her secret entrance unerringly, and the thrill of being inside her drove him on.

  He was so heavy on top of her and deep within her that she felt as though she were being massaged inside and out by his massively muscular body.

  "Michael! Michael!" she gasped at his first two thrusts, clinging to him fervently.

  Her incredible excitement propelled him forward. The pain he felt was as nothing compared to the pleasure, and he drove on, balancing more and more of his weight upon his hands to rise up to watch her delight. He was also afraid of crushing her, but managed to partly lever himself on his knees.

  The deadness he had felt in his lower extremities became an almost unbearable tingling, like pins and needles, but the tingling of her lovemaking now came to the fore.

  He could feel the surging head of his manhood right up at the top of her womb, and alternated deep forceful thrusts with quick, teasing movements just at the entrance of her body.

  She clung to him importunately, raking him with her nails, panting and moaning. "No please, don’t pull away."

  He chuckled throatily. "I’m not going anywhere. I’m just reveling in the feel of you all around me, the lovely soft silky caress of you down below."

  He swiveled himself inside her now with an almost flexible roll of his hips which astonished her in more ways than one.

  Her eyes widened. "Where did you learn how to…."

  "I never did until now."

  "And your movement…"

  "It’s not walking, but I always did think being horizontal was a lot more fun. There were times in the Army I would have sold my soul for a soft warm bed."

  "With someone in it?" she asked quietly, her eyes dark with passion and some fear.

  He shook his head and smiled. "Not always. Sleep is vastly underrated by people who can manage to get any."

  "Are you tired?" she asked, her tone loving.

  He kissed her tenderly on the mouth. "Not at all. But let’s see if we can’t help me out a bit more here. Grab those pillows and stuff them under you."

  His arms trembled as he took the whole of his weight, but once she was cushioned, she had raised herself off the bed several inches, and him practically to the brink.

  For he had remained inside her, and her simple, natural movements and wiggling into place enflamed him far more than even the alluring rotation of her hips.

  Beads of perspiration dewed his forehead and at last he collapsed onto her, his elbows on either side of her body, which was curved up into his so intimately he was sure here was no place where their flesh did not meet. He was panting with desire, his tip so deeply within her molten core he was almost afraid to move.

  "Give me a minute, love. I’m going to go wild if I don’t stop."

  "Then go wild, darling. I’ll be right there with you," she whispered, showering any part of his flesh she could reach with warm open-mouthed kisses.

  "I want to give you more-"

  "You’ve already given me so much. Take what you need. I’ll be right there with you."

  She tried to move her hips the barest fraction, and got an answering throb from the massive head of his manhood which took her so completely by surprise she climaxed in an instant.

  His own huge shuddering spasms seemed to go on and on. He drew back and forward with one last huge thrust which they were sure would spilt her in two. He kissed her like a starving man as the orgasm went on and on.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t climax any more, he shifted his body on hers, pulling up her leg to spread her further, and deepening his position within.

  His fingers sought out her moist bud and petals and whispered over them. Her hips flew upwards as she arched her back and shouted his name against his mouth.

  She had the heady sensation of all of him trying to climb right inside of her, possessing her utterly. Then she was sobbing against him, her climax so powerful she could do nothing except weep with joy and the intensity of her release.

  "Oh God, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?" he said, trying to roll off her.

  She clung onto the huge solid weight of him as though she would never let him go. "Not at all. I'm so happy. It was just incredible. I never knew it could be like this."

  "Neither did I. But it’s just going to keep getting better. We can attune ourselves to each other’s bodies, pleasure. Experiment, have fun. It’s been a long time since I’ve had fun. Well, this kind of fun, anyway," he said, caressing one breast and then bending his head to kiss the tears from her cheeks. "And it was certainly never like this.

  "It’s been a lot of fun having the boys around, people to share things with. I want to let joy into our home. You’re right. No boundaries, no more hiding. Once we’re married they won’t be able to do anything to harm us.

  "I don’t like to brag, but I come from a pretty powerful family in my own right. I have some very powerful friends as well. I swear to you, I’ll protect my family always."

  She held him close. "I know you will. I just can’t help feeling frightened."

  "Then I need to fill you with joy all over again, so you can’t feel anything else except that," he said moving against her, his desire unmistakable once more.

  "No, darling, I mean, it’s oh, Lord, it’s, it’s wonderful, but-"

  Whatever she was about to say was lost in his mouth as he slipped his tongue into hers and thrust with both of his most tantalizing pieces of flesh.

  Whatever rationality they both possessed fled in the face of their tempestuous lovemaking, until he gave one last groan, and rolled over onto his back, taking him with her. He blindly felt for and yanked up the covers over the prostrate Bryony and himself, and at last they slept.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The dawn chorus eventually penetrated Michael’s exhaustion the following day. He opened one bleary eye, and for a moment he felt a deep inner fury. He had thought he was doing so much better. But now his lower body felt leaden and almost paralysed once more.

  Then he started, and smiled in relief. He looked down, and his already clamouring erection thrust even more intently upwards as he realised Bryony was sleeping on top of him, one leg thrown over his knees, one arm over his hips, her head upon his abdomen, her face almost nestled in his dark crisp curls.

  She moved slightly with a sound between a yawn and a purr, caressing her cheek against the silky head of his penis.

  "Oh my," he breathed.

  She had done it to him the night before, of course, but this time was different, a treasuring and reverent awe, a nurturing tenderness, no urgency or desperate striving for completion. It was more like a whispered promise that it was the first day of forever. That their lives together would always be warm, loving, gentle and considerate.

  "I love that. I love you," he said, stroking her cheek, tracing the swirls of her delicate ear. "I can’t imagine anything more lovely to wake up to, except you up here with me giving me a proper kiss, or me planted between your thighs."

  She lifted her mouth from him in one last lingering caress, and rubbed her cheek upwards over his body in a long languid stroke lik
e a cat, arching her back and practically purring.

  He grinned lustily, but was too lazy to do more than he had promised and kiss her.

  "Good morning, darling," he murmured

  "Good morning, my dearest love."

  "Did you sleep well, sweetheart?"

  "Oh I did. I had the most wonderful dreams last night."

  Michael grinned. "They weren’t dreams, love. They were real. I was there. I shared them."

  "I’m glad. There’s only one problem," she sighed. "I could barely think about anything else except you before we made love, wondering what it was going to be like. Now that I know, I can’t think about anything else except the wonderful things we shared."

  He held her close, stroking her breasts, neck and face lightly. "A terrible problem to have. But again, one I share. Though to be fair, so you don’t accuse me of being a complete lecher, I do occasionally think about food as well."

  "Mmm, what a good idea. But I’m going to scandalise everyone if I ring for your breakfast now."

  "Well, we can’t have that, can we," he said in a neutral tone.

  "I mean, that is, unless you don’t care who knows," she said, venturing a small peep at his face to see if she could gauge his expression.

  He could sense he was being tested, and was determined not to fail. "I not only don’t care, if I could get to the top of the Bath Abbey spires, I would shout it from the rooftops."

  She grinned. "And what exactly would you shout?"

  "I love Bryony Wells. Soon to be Bryony Avenel. I have the most wonderful woman in the world in my house, in my life. And if she doesn’t stop doing that with her hand, I shall have her in a compromising position, me on top preferably. Though if you’d care to do the honours I wouldn’t say no."

  She giggled again. "In that case, breakfast first."

  He looked almost disappointed.

  Bryony winked. "You can hide the sausage."

  He laughed. "Oh, darling, you are sooo naughty. I love it."

  Some rather boisterous lovemaking followed, but even Bryony began to grow famished as the sun rose in the sky, and of course the boys needed to be looked in on. She had told Annie noon, after all.

  She tugged on her silk robe, and Michael felt as though all the light had gone out of the room.

  "I’ll just get you on the chamber-"

  Michael blanched. "No, please. I mean, it was bad enough when we weren’t-"

  She grasped his shoulder. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing is ever going to make me think less of you. In sickness and in health, remember? There will be times when you’re going to have to help me, I’m sure. When I was pregnant with the boys I couldn’t even get my shoes on. Once they were born I bled for weeks afterwards. My mother’s milk got everywhere. Damien said I was the most disgusting woman he’d ever met in his life."

  Michael’s expression transformed instantly to granite. "The bastard. Those things should be beautiful, to be shared as part of the joy of bringing a new young life into the world."

  "Good, then. If you’re telling me you wouldn’t find my normal womanly functions disgusting, why should I find yours awful? Please, darling, just take it as yet another way to show you how much I care. Don’t let anything come between us, cause us to be reserved or less than honest with one another."

  "I am being honest. I hate you having to see me like this," he grumbled, all their happy playing at an end.

  "Yet if you hadn’t been this way, we might never have grown so close," she pointed out gently, sitting on the bed beside him to shower kisses all over his neck and chest.

  "Men and women in our society don’t often get to be friends, get to know each other intimately before they launch into marriage. They either elope, or marry because it’s all arranged by interested parties, or have affairs because they feel they can’t help themselves. But how many of them ever really know the other person?"

  "The same is true of being married, I suppose?"

  Bryony nodded. "It is. Just when I thought I knew Damien he would stoop even lower."

  Michael gritted his teeth.

  She saw his reaction and sighed. "We’re going to make a pact, my love. No more mention of him. He helped to form me as I am now, which has been no bad thing in the end, though it was hell at the time. But you seem so jealous that I’ll never bring him up again unless we have to. I don’t want you to be upset. Any comparisons can only be with you in the most favourable light, and him in the worst."

  "Thank you, love, but you don’t have to say that. Six years of marriage--"

  "Were six years too long, apart from my sons. Our sons, as they are now. Speaking of whom, I’d better go make sure they aren’t torturing Annie. I’ll help you here, send Robin in, and see you for breakfast in about half an hour, after I’ve dressed?"

  "Yes. But would you mind very much not dressing?" he asked, his eyes glowing. "And tell Cook to make it breakfast in bed?"

  "Why darling, I do believe you’re trying to sweep me off my feet yet again. The answer is yes, please."

  He gave her a broad grin then, and didn’t even mind when she helped him with his toilette and got him back into bed.

  "And we’ll have a bath later too, the two of us in the tub soaking. How does that sound?"

  "Rousing, as you can tell if you look down."

  "How do you feel this morning? I mean, really." She gave a worried frown. "Your back and legs?"

  "I think Blake is right. I have to use the muscles, even when it hurts. The few times I’ve exercised and the pain has been bad, I’ve stopped. Here I have more than enough incentive to keep going. Yes, it hurt, but it also loosened up quite a bit, so the next time was easier. Just like I stopped going to the Baths for a time, and only got worse. As soon as you bullied me into going again, I got better."

  "Bullied is such a hard, nasty word. Try coaxed, cajoled," she said, fluttering her eyelashes.

  "How about brow-beat, coerced, blackmailed."

  "Are you complaining?" she asked with mock petulance. "After all, you got a pretty good bargain."

  "And you didn’t?" he returned, his face sobering once more.

  She grinned. "I most certainly did. But then I knew I would, so I didn’t whinge and complain about going to the Baths, now did I?"

  "I can’t tell you how grateful I am," he said earnestly.

  She cupped his dimpled chin with her hand. "I don’t want your gratitude. I just want love, pure and simple. Love of me as I am, not because of what I’ve done to help you."

  "You’ve always had that, Bryony," he said settling back against the plumped-up pillows. "I can’t tell you how my heart leapt at the sight of you that first night. How impressed I was with your determination and fortitude. Your devotion as a mother. I thought even then you were someone well worth know and loving."

  She kissed him then. The contact instantly burst into a conflagration so intense that all thought of getting up for breakfast fled in the face of his urgent need.

  He slid the robe off her shoulders and dragged her back in the bed. After a time he lifted his lips to request, "Can you please put your back to me so I can kiss it?"

  She was surprised a little at his words, but still in a trancelike state from his kiss, she did as he asked. His hot breath, lips and tongue whispering nuzzling and licking over her neck, shoulders and down to the small of her back had her shivering hot and cold all over. She could feel the dampness between her thighs welling up almost unbearably.

  He took his time, making love to her with a leisured thoroughness which made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. His hand caressed her stomach and breasts, teasing each nipple gently in turn before moving down to her navel. It moved further down still, until she was groaning against the pillow. He nudged one of her legs forward, but she felt a sudden anxiousness and rolled quickly onto her back to let him slide in hotly, wetly. Her body was so languid yet so primed for his touch that the orgasm rolled through her uncontrollably and she cried out his n
ame.

  She rammed her hips upwards until he gasped, "Wait, love, take your time. I’m not going anywhere."

  He moved his other arm down to grasp her breasts and gentle her with long soothing strokes, before moving his fingers to toy with her shadowy hills and valleys. Her flesh felt so distended that even the least flick of his fingers against the tight little bud set off the rippling deep within her.

  Michael had to think of anything in the world other than himself inside of her as he continued to press in and out, making her climax again and again. She pleaded with him weakly to take what he needed to end it, but the excitement of her pleasure was even better than taking his own, for he knew it would be over all too soon.