An Ocean Between Us

by Serenity Woods

  He sighed. “You’d be surprised.”

  “...and even if we say three to five girls a year, which doesn’t sound like many, that’s forty-five to seventy-five women...”

  “Jesus, did you make up a spreadsheet to work this out?”

  “I’m just surmising. And I’ll keep surmising until you tell me the truth.”

  “Sweetheart, I’m sorry to ruin the image, but I’m not even in double figures.”

  “Seriously?” That surprised her.

  “Seriously.” He smiled.

  That probably meant he’d had a few longer relationships, and possibly one that had lasted a few years.

  “Who was she, Danny?”

  “Who?”

  “The one who broke your heart?”

  His eyes widened. “What makes you think that?”

  It was her turn to shrug. “Women’s instinct.”

  He gave a short laugh and twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. “You really want to talk about my ex after we’ve just had sex?”

  “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but I’d like to know more about you. What happened? Did she want more, or did you?”

  “She did. She wanted us to get a place and settle down.”

  “And you didn’t?”

  “It wasn’t a question of not wanting to. I was happy for us to stay together. But when I said I couldn’t leave my father—that he’d have to come with us, wherever we went, she took that to mean I was putting him before her. So we broke up.”

  It obviously wasn’t that simple—there was a whole ocean of hurt behind his eyes, but at least now she knew it was to do with his father. The girl had wanted him to herself, and she’d thought his refusal meant he didn’t love her enough. How terribly sad and selfish.

  “I’m sorry.” Hermione kissed him. “You deserve better.”

  “I do.” He kissed her back. “I deserve to have hot sex with an English princess—and, oh look, my dream’s come true!”

  “I’m not a princess,” she reminded him.

  “Related to one.”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Doesn’t matter.” He smothered her protests with his lips until she went limp in his arms. “That’s better,” he said smugly. “Now why don’t you close your eyes and get a little sleep? I’m not going to let you rest for long, but you need to keep your strength up.”

  Content that he’d opened up to her a little, she let him turn her onto her side away from him and welcomed his arms around her.

  “Is this spooning?” she asked.

  “It is. But please don’t ask me what kind of spoon because I can never remember which one to use at dinner.”

  She chuckled and kissed his hand. “Thank you again.”

  “You don’t need to keep thanking me, sweetheart.”

  “I know. But I want you to understand what this means to me. I know guys don’t like girls getting all heavy on them, and I swear I’m not going gooey on you, but it was special, and I appreciate you taking the time.”

  “Yeah, it was completely out the goodness of my heart.” He smacked her bottom, making her jump. “Go to sleep.”

  She closed her eyes, a smile playing on her lips as she drifted off.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Danny slept a little, but lightly, as he had done since he was young, used to having one ear open in case his father needed him.

  When he awoke around one o’clock, for a moment he assumed it was his father who’d roused him, as sometimes he couldn’t sleep from the pain. Danny would get up, make him a cup of tea, and wait with him until the painkillers started working before he went back to bed.

  He blinked, disoriented, puzzled that the moonlight was coming through the curtains on the left side of the bed and not the right. Then as he turned toward the silver strip of light, he met the warm body next to his in the bed, and everything came rushing back to him.

  Hermione was dreaming, twitching in her sleep, so he assumed that was what had awoken him. It had been a while since he’d slept in a bed with a woman so, stretching out beside her, he enjoyed the sensation of her skin against his for a moment, listening to her breathe.

  His mind played back their lovemaking of the evening before, pausing every now and again on various scenes for him to enjoy. He hoped she’d found it enjoyable too—it had certainly appeared that way.

  He’d tried to go slow and be gentle, but he could remember his triumphant Done! when he’d first thrust into her, the feeling of delight that he’d captured her innocence like a snowflake on his hand.

  Had he been drunk? Virginity was a state of being, not a precious gift she’d given to him.

  But his heart refused to accept that. She’d chosen him to introduce her to the delights of sex—she trusted him, and that in itself was a gift even he couldn’t sneer at.

  She lay facing him, her long brown hair spread out on the pillow. He was under no illusions—if he was lucky, he might get to see her again while she was in New Zealand, but that would be it—she’d soon be heading back to the UK to her husband and her estates and her horses. Like that snowflake, she’d melt away, and he’d probably never hear from her again.

  It made him sad, but he pushed it away and focused on the white shoulder peeking out of the bed. He had to concentrate on the here and now, and make the most of her while he had her.

  At that moment, however, she twitched again and murmured something, although he couldn’t make out what it was. Her head tossed from side to side, and her breaths came rapidly. Was she having a nightmare? He frowned, resting a hand on her arm, but she continued to twitch and murmur.

  “Ssh,” he whispered, stroking her arm. “It’s all right.”

  “Don’t make me,” she said.

  “It’s all right, you’re safe, sweetheart.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her brow. What was she dreaming about?

  She said a few more unintelligible words, then, quite clearly, “I don’t want to.”

  “Ssh. You don’t have to. It’s okay.” He kissed her cheek, then her lips, the fierce need to comfort her surprising him. He wanted to protect her, to make sure nothing would ever hurt her. There was something about this woman that radiated innocence, and he suspected she always would, even when in the midst of passion, even with five kids when she was forty years old.

  “I can’t... No!”

  She jerked awake and blinked furiously, obviously as puzzled as he had been when he’d first opened his eyes.

  “It’s okay, it’s Danny, you’re safe.” He placed a kiss on her shoulder, and continued down her arm as she fought against heaving breaths. Hooking the bedclothes over his head, he shifted down the bed, kissing her shoulders and breastbone, then down to her breasts. He closed his mouth over a nipple, and she gasped.

  “Oh...what? Danny!” She laughed.

  Glad he’d dispelled the dream, he lifted up over her, pushing her onto her back, and continued kissing down her body, covering her ribs, her waist, her stomach with hot, wet kisses.

  “Mmm.” She lifted her arms above her head and stretched out beneath him. “What a lovely way to be woken up.”

  “You’re not awake.” He positioned himself between her thighs. “You’re having a lovely, sexy dream.” Lowering down, he kissed her stomach, then each hip, and finally pushed up her knees.

  “What are you doing?” She rose up on her elbows to look at him, but Danny’s blood was racing around his body, and there was no way she was going to stop him now.

  Sliding his tongue into her folds, he licked up to her clit and swirled his tongue over it.

  “Oh! Fuck!” She collapsed back onto the pillow and covered her face with her arms. “Oh my God.”

  He tried not to laugh and settled down to pleasure her. “Go back to sleep.”

  “Like I could—what are you—ohhh...” Her complaints trailed off, and she gave a long sigh as he continued to lick and suck.

  Curving one arm beneath her thigh, he stro
ked it reassuringly, using the other hand to part her folds to give his tongue better access. He concentrated on her clit, not wanting to make her too sore, and he hoped her moans and sighs were evidence of pleasure rather than pain.

  “Danny... ohhh...” She lowered a hand to sink into his hair, her fingers clutching and her nails scraping along his scalp, and he stifled a groan, trying to concentrate on her enjoyment rather than his.

  Maybe it was the fact that this was the first time she’d had a man go down on her, or maybe he really was that good, but it was only moments before her breathing turned ragged and he sensed the imminent arrival of her orgasm.

  He murmured his approval and licked and sucked firmly, and she came hard and fast, crying out into the night, her thighs tightening around him, her internal muscles clenching in strong pulses.

  Within seconds, he’d rolled on a condom and moved up the bed to slide inside her.

  “Fuck.” He closed his eyes. It was like sinking into hot, wet velvet, so sublime he could have come immediately.

  He didn’t, though. He kept a tight hold of his self-control and opened his eyes to see her wide ones staring into his.

  “Hello,” she said.

  He kissed her nose, then her lips. “Hello.”

  “Are you usually this wicked in bed?”

  He began to move, giving slow thrusts of his hips. “I told you I’d wake you up.”

  “By going down on me? Sheesh. You could have warned me. I nearly had a heart attack.”

  He chuckled. “Sorry, was it not very nice? I won’t do it again.”

  She rolled her eyes, and he kissed her again, long and luscious, until she softened beneath him and relaxed.

  “Anyway,” he said in her ear, kissing up her neck, “I told you in the cafe what I was going to do to you. I don’t lie.”

  “Everyone lies,” she whispered.

  What had prompted that comment? Something Lord Dick has said to her? Was that who she’d been dreaming about? Danny narrowed his eyes. “No they don’t. I don’t.” He thrust slowly. “I won’t make promises I don’t intend to keep, and I won’t say things I don’t mean. So when I tell you you’re the sexiest girl I’ve ever had, you know I’m telling you the truth.”

  He kissed her hard to stop her replying, but it only delayed the inevitable.

  “Now I know you’re lying,” she scoffed when he eventually lifted his head.

  “I’m not.” He adjusted his angle, pushing her knees up so he could plunge deeper into her, and her lips parted in pleasure.

  “I...ahhh...very much...ahhh...doubt I’m the sexiest girl you’ve...ahhh...ever had, Danny Love.”

  “You are. You fire me up. I get hard just looking at you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that moment I saw you across the lawn.”

  He looked into her eyes, needing her to believe him, and felt the same tug deep in his stomach that he’d felt before as her eyes lit up, sparking with excitement at his words.

  “How the hell did you stay a virgin for so long?” he asked, loving the way she met each thrust of his hips with one of her own.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean clearly you were made for sex. How have you survived?”

  She laughed and ran her nails down his back. “It was easy until I saw you.”

  Holding her tightly, he rolled onto his back and pushed her up so she sat astride him. “Come on, beautiful, your turn to fuck me. Hard as you like.”

  Her eyes flared as they always did when he swore, but she didn’t scold him, so apparently it was acceptable in the bedroom where it turned her on.

  She shifted, making herself comfortable, and he stroked up her body. “You have perfect breasts,” he announced, cupping them.

  “Thank you.” She rocked her hips, discovering that she could make him slide in and out of her, and murmured her approval when he squeezed her nipples. “Mmm. I like this position.”

  “It has its advantages.” He loved the way her breasts filled his hands, and when she tipped back her head and arched her back as she thrust, he had to blow out a breath to control himself. “Fuck, yeah.”

  Dropping forward, she kissed him, and he skimmed his hands over her ribs and back, holding her hips and pushing up to bury himself inside her.

  She sat upright again, her cheeks tinged with pink, and he watched her orgasm gradually wash over her, loving the way she relaxed into it, taking her pleasure from him as she rode through it. Her strong thighs gripped him, and the sheer clenching of her internal muscles around him brought on his own climax.

  His fingers dug into her hips as he came, and he lost himself in the blissful pulses for a moment, feeling her bracing her hands on his chest, but unable to do anything except wait for the shudders to stop.

  When he eventually opened his eyes, he found her watching him, a rather smug smile on her face.

  “Something else I can tick off my list,” she said, and bent and kissed him.

  “Is that all I am to you?” he grumbled. “One of your famous ‘to do’ lists?”

  “Yep.” She chuckled and ran her tongue across his bottom lip. “Aw, don’t give me that face. Deny that you’re enjoying showing me the ropes.”

  “I’m not. It’s a chore. I’d rather be putting a new palm tree in the ground.”

  She laughed and lifted herself off him, and he smiled, disposed of the condom, and then turned to take her in his arms.

  “What were you dreaming about when I woke you?” He twirled her hair in his fingers, looking out of the curtains to the sliver of the moon visible through the gap.

  For a moment she didn’t say anything. Then eventually she said, “I don’t remember.”

  “I thought we said we wouldn’t lie?”

  “You said you wouldn’t, and anyway, there’s no way I can test the theory, so it’s a ridiculous declaration really.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Were you dreaming about Richard?”

  “What, you’re not calling him Lord Dick tonight?”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. He’s special to you, and I shouldn’t mock you for it. I’m just jealous, I guess.”

  She pushed herself up onto an elbow. “Why?”

  “Because he gets to marry you, and I don’t.”

  She gave him a wry look. “You don’t strike me as the marrying kind.”

  “I might be, given the right woman.”

  She lowered her gaze to his chest and trailed a finger through the hair on his ribs. “He’s not special to me, Danny.”

  “He’s your fiancé.”

  “Not officially.”

  “Hermione...”

  “I’m just saying. He’s not special to me.” She curled up by his side and put her head on his shoulder.

  Danny let it drop. She’d been dreaming about Richard—he knew that now. She didn’t want to marry him, but she didn’t know how to get out of it. Family ties and responsibilities were important to them both, and although he’d gotten angry with her before, he did understand how she wanted to please her parents and do the right thing.

  But should love be sacrificed for duty? He thought of what had happened between him and Lynda. Should he have told her he’d put his father in a home? He’d missed out on the chance of happiness so far—on settling down and having kids—because he’d chosen his dad. And yet he still couldn’t bring himself to believe he’d done the wrong thing.

  For the first time, he wondered what this Richard thought of the arrangement. Was he happy about the thought of marrying a woman he didn’t love? Or perhaps he did love her. Maybe he hadn’t tried to get her into bed because he wanted to wait until they were married. Did people still do that? Danny hadn’t thought to ask her if either of them were religious. He knew many members of the upper class in the UK were traditional Church of England. Hermione had seemed to think that Richard had been with other women, and that he didn’t expect her to remain a virgin. Danny hoped that was the case or he’d end up with a to
ff on his doorstep wanting to challenge him to a duel.

  He nuzzled Hermione’s hair, enjoying the smell of mint from her shampoo. She was dozing off again, her breathing growing more regular. He was tempted to start kissing her again and wake her up, but his body needed time to recharge, and she needed to sleep. He’d have to make do with holding her in his arms for the rest of the night.

  His lips curving, he held her tightly and let sleep claim him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next time Hermione opened her eyes, it was light.

  She lay there for a moment, watching the sun streaming through the windows and across the bed like a gold bar, then rolled her head to look at the bed behind her. It was empty, only a dent in the pillow to prove it hadn’t all been a dream.

  Had Danny left the house without saying goodbye? Holding her breath, she sat up and listened, then heard him along the corridor in the kitchen, singing. It sounded as if he was making coffee.

  Her lips curved. He hadn’t just abandoned her.

  She hugged her knees, assessing how she felt after the adventures of the night before. Her muscles ached as if she’d been for a long ride—which she kind of had, she thought, stifling a giggle. She touched her fingers to her lips, which felt tender, reflecting the fact that Danny happened to be very good at kissing. She was a little sore down below, but that was to be expected after the action that had gone on down there.

  Her face warmed at the memory of what he’d done, burying his mouth in her and bringing her to a climax before sliding inside her and giving her pleasure again.

  When Hermione was younger and she’d once made a comment to her mother about what sex was like, her mother had replied, “I don’t know what all the fuss is about,” and in a way Hermione could see what she’d meant. All these years she’d worried about it, and suddenly she could see it for what it was—a mere coming together of two bodies that certainly didn’t deserve all the hype and concern she’d given it for so long.

  And yet on the other hand, she knew her mother had entirely missed the point. It was so much more than that. The actual insertion of Tab A into Slot B was nice and it felt good, but it was the emotional and mental connection that was magical. The knowledge that she’d shared herself with another person, that she’d given him pleasure and let go of her inhibitions enough to receive pleasure in return—that was what made it special.