An Ocean Between Us

by Serenity Woods

  “Yeah,” he murmured, “come on sweetheart, come for me.”

  She kissed him again, and he slid a hand into her hair and held her there while the orgasm swept over, stifling her moans and drinking in her pleasure. It wasn’t easy to hold onto his own desire, but he managed it by seconds before he let go and erupted into her with pulse after pulse of exquisite contractions.

  They left him hot, sweaty, and panting, and it took a few minutes for the world to stop spinning, as he’d jumped off a moving roundabout before he’d given it a chance to slow down.

  “Breathe,” Hermione said, and kissed his lips.

  “I’ve forgotten how.”

  She chuckled and lifted off him, then hastily grabbed a tissue from the box on the table. “Ooh, that’s a first.”

  He smirked and tucked himself back into his boxers. “Yeah, for me too.”

  “Really?” Sitting beside him, she curled up on the seat.

  “Never had sex without a condom before.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Not even with Lynda?”

  “Nope.”

  She smiled. “I like that we’ve had a first.”

  “Oh, it’s not the first first.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He’d spoken without vetting his words first, but it was only as they left his mouth that he realized what he’d meant. I didn’t feel about her the way I feel about you.

  He blinked. What did that mean? He’d dated Lynda for going on two years. He’d known Hermione a little over a week. He couldn’t possibly have more affection for her than he’d had for Lynda.

  But then he was assuming the amount of affection he felt for someone was based on the amount of time he’d known them. He’d thought he’d loved Lynda, and maybe he had. He’d been fond of her. And he’d been upset when she’d broken up with him, although he was beginning to think that was more due to bruised pride than anything else.

  But he hadn’t been in love with her.

  So did that mean he was in love with Hermione?

  She tipped her head to the side, a curious smile on her face. “Cat got your tongue?”

  “Kind of.”

  She chuckled. “I’m hungry. Are you always hungry after sex?”

  “Only for you.” He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her.

  “Mmm.” She curled up against him and threaded her hands through his hair as she kissed him back. “I could get very used to this. I think we should stay here for the whole two weeks and not go out at all.”

  “I agree,” Danny said, meaning it, and feeling a twinge of worry that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea he’d come to stay after all.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Hermione spent the next two weeks in a state of bliss.

  During the day, Danny and his team worked on the land around the house, continuing the landscaping of the lawns and surrounding areas, and occasionally he went into town to supervise the work going on the town domain. While he was out, Hermione continued with her research of hotels and activities in the area, designed her brochures, and made sure everything in the office in London was running smoothly.

  She’d thought that maybe she wouldn’t get to see him much during the day, but most lunchtimes found Danny returning to the house, eager to spend time with her, and he was always home by six, declaring he couldn’t bear to be apart from her any longer.

  She knew what he meant—after only a few hours apart, she craved him, hungered for him, and often he was only minutes inside the door before they were ripping off their clothes and he was inside her, spiriting her to heaven once again.

  They made love in every room in the house, in every position Danny could think of, sometimes fast and furious when they’d been apart, while at other times, late in the night or early in the morning, they spent hours kissing and touching each other until Hermione felt she knew his body almost as well as her own.

  But it wasn’t just the sex that was magnificent. She’d thought that would be the highlight of his stay at the house, and their relationship—if it could be called that—would be purely physical. Although they’d got on well up until that point, she’d assumed that once they’d talked about the movies they enjoyed and the places they wanted to travel, there wouldn’t be much more to say.

  To her surprise, though, they spent hours talking about everything under the sun—where they’d been in the world, what they’d done, how they felt about it, and what they’d like to do in the future. Hermione laughed as he told her about the time he, Niall, and Beck had worked in Andalusia in a nudist resort and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. He wanted to know everything about her trip around Europe and what she thought of all the cities she’d visited.

  They talked about their hopes and dreams for the future—Danny explained how he wanted to grow his company to be the best in the Northland, and told her about the jobs he’d done, what he had coming up, and the kind of landscaping he would like to do in the future. Hermione went through the struggles she’d had with setting up her business and some of the things that had proved successful, giving him a few tips for the administration side of things, including a new accounting program she’d discovered that was easy to use and worked well.

  “So where do you see yourself in five years’ time, Lady Hermione?”

  They were lying in bed, and it was late, well after midnight, but neither of them had shown any signs of wanting to sleep yet. Hermione’s eyelids were drooping, but it was coming to the end of her stay in the Northland, and she didn’t want to waste a single moment of her time with Danny. His question, however, posed in the manner of an interviewer as he held out an imaginary microphone to her, brought a bubble of nerves to her stomach that wiped away the sleep that had been hovering.

  “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “When I marry Richard, I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to carry on with the business. It’ll be difficult with kids, and I don’t think he’s super keen on me working, anyway.”

  Danny’s smile faded, and he lowered the hand that had been holding the imaginary microphone to the bed. Until that point, the room had felt warm and sultry, cozy and sleepy, but she sensed a distinct cooling of the atmosphere as he considered her answer.

  “So you’re still going ahead with it then.” His words were flat, devoid of emotion.

  She looked down at the duvet cover and traced an embroidered flower with her finger. “I think so. It would make everyone happy.”

  “Apart from you, you mean.”

  Irritation flared inside her. “You don’t know that. I think we could be very happy.”

  He gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah, right.”

  “Come on Danny, don’t be like that. I know it won’t be the love of a lifetime, but that’s not what marriage is about.”

  “Well it fucking well should be.”

  “Don’t swear at me. We’ve had this conversation before and I don’t want to go through it all again.” She pushed herself up, angry and frustrated.

  He did the same, sitting with his arms around his knees, hands linked. The duvet dropped to expose his flat stomach and the happy trail of hair leading into his groin, but she kept her eyes averted.

  “I don’t get it,” he said. “You’ve worked so hard to set up your business. Why would you throw it all away now?”

  “I wouldn’t throw it away.” She hesitated, wondering whether to tell him, then decided she had nothing to lose. “I’ve actually talked to Renee about her buying me out, and she’s interested.”

  His eyes widened. “What? Why?”

  “I don’t know, Danny. My heart’s not in it anymore.” She didn’t want to explain to him that although she wholeheartedly believed it was possible to rekindle a fire that had died down to embers, she no longer believed it was possible to create a flame without a spark existing in the first place.

  There was no spark between her and Richard, and there probably never would be. She’d reconciled herself to that. But she didn’t know if she could keep working
in a romantic retreats business when she had no personal experience of the magic she promoted.

  Or at least, no experience with her husband.

  She was in love with Danny. If she’d doubted it before he’d moved in with her, she doubted it no longer. She couldn’t get enough of him—she missed him and thought about nothing but him when he wasn’t there, and when he was, it was as if the sun shone brighter and all the clouds went away.

  But she had responsibilities, and a holiday romance wasn’t something she could base the rest of her life on. It wouldn’t work, and although it was going to break her heart when she left, she couldn’t see a way out.

  Danny’s brow was furrowed, his eyes angry. “I don’t want you to marry him,” he said.

  She raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry?”

  “You heard me. I know I’m hardly Casanova, but I do know that for a marriage to survive it needs to have love from the beginning. You don’t love Richard. It’s not fair to you or him to commit yourself to him like that.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, but we’re not normal people, Danny. It’s different for us.”

  “That’s an excuse, and you know what? I think it’s because you’re scared of facing up to your father.”

  Her cheeks burned. “Rubbish.”

  “It’s not. You’ve rebelled in every other way possible except the one that really matters. You need to tell him the wedding’s off.”

  His arrogance made her bristle. “I’ll do no such thing, and I don’t know who you think you are for assuming you can make demands like that on me.”

  Without warning, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulled her toward him, and rolled her so she was under him. “I’m the man who owns your heart until midwinter night,” he snapped, “and until then, you’ll do as I say.”

  Her eyes flared. “I won’t! Get off me!” She placed both hands on his chest, but it was like trying to push a brick wall. He captured her wrists and pinned them above her head, and as much as she wriggled, she couldn’t shake him free. “Danny!”

  Lifting up, he reached to the corner post of the bed and yanked down one of the winter scarves she’d looped over it. “Not silk,” he muttered, “but it’ll do.”

  Her heart began to race as she realized what he was going to do. “Oh no.”

  He ignored her and straddled her, looped the scarf around her wrists and knotted it, then tied it around one of the slats in the bed. He managed to do all that even while she was fighting him, and it was only then that she truly realized how strong he was, and how much he must have held back all the times they’d made love so far.

  “Let me go,” she whispered, heart hammering as she tested her wrists and couldn’t free herself.

  Satisfied that the scarf was tight, he moved down and looked into her eyes. “No,” he said, desire sparking within his blue orbs.

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I don’t—”

  He stifled her words with his lips, and she gave a long moan as he slid his tongue into her mouth and kissed her thoroughly, taking his time, surprisingly tender. Although she was certain he would never hurt her, she knew he was angry with her, and half of her expected him to take her roughly and quickly.

  But he seemed to have the opposite intention. He lowered himself on top of her and spent ages kissing her until she was breathless with yearning, her nipples peaking against his chest, an ache growing deep inside her.

  Then he shifted down the bed and transferred his mouth to her nipples, teasing them with his lips, tongue, and fingers until she squirmed beneath him.

  “Please,” she begged him. “Please.”

  “Please what, sweetheart?” He plucked at her wet nipples with his fingers while he looked into her eyes.

  “Ahhh... Danny...”

  Moving to one side of her, he stroked a hand down her body and lifted the leg nearest him over his to spread her wide.

  “Please what?” he prompted again, stroking a hand up her thigh to between her legs where he trailed his fingers lightly along her sensitive folds.

  “Ohhh...”

  “Please what?” He slipped a finger into her and drew it up to swirl around her clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

  She groaned. “Don’t torture me...”

  He continued to stroke her. “Absolutely I’m going to torture you until you admit to me that this week you are mine and mine alone.”

  Irritation overrode her desire. “For God’s sake.” She drew up her knee, pushing his hand out of the way. “Stop being so bloody Neolithic.” Hot tears stung her eyes. She didn’t need this extra pressure. Life was hard enough for her as it was without him layering on the guilt and emotional stress. “We’re just having fun, aren’t we? I like you, Danny, but that’s all it is. Why do you have to be like this? You’re making everything worse.”

  His expression darkened. He lifted up and, before she could stop him, turned her over onto her front. Pushing up onto her elbows, she tried to rise, but he caught hold of her hips and pulled her farther down the bed until her arms were straight and she couldn’t rise. Grabbing a pillow, he then slid an arm under her hips and lifted them, and moved the pillow beneath, lifting her bottom into the air.

  “Danny!” She tried to roll over, but her pushed open her legs and knelt between them, then lay along her, pressing her into the mattress.

  “Oof! You’re squashing me.”

  “Don’t care.” He put his mouth close to her ear, and she felt his warm breath on her neck. “I’m just having fun, Hermione. That’s all we’re doing, isn’t it? Lady Chatterley and her bit of rough.”

  She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on the mattress. That was what was going on here. He thought she was saying she’d only wanted him for sex, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. He’d won her heart the moment he’d stood before her, covered in mud and looking like a god after a wrestling tournament.

  But she couldn’t admit that to him, because where would that leave her?

  So she said nothing, biting her bottom lip as she felt the tip of his rock-hard erection parting her folds.

  “Tell me to stop,” he murmured in her ear. “Tell me you don’t want me moving inside you.”

  She stifled a groan. “Please...”

  “Tell me you want me to stop, Hermione.”

  She couldn’t, God help her but she couldn’t. She could feel moisture between her legs, her body welcoming him, encouraging him inside.

  Slowly, he pushed his hips forward.

  She let out a long aaahhh as he slid all the way home, burying himself inside her. With her hips raised on the pillow, it gave him a different, deeper angle, and she gasped at the sensation of being stretched and filled to the brim. “Fuck!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, chuckling, pulled back his hips, and thrust home.

  “Argh!” She screwed up her nose.

  He laughed. “Want a pillow to bite on?” Kissing down her neck, he trailed his tongue along her hyper-sensitive skin.

  Then he fastened his mouth there and sucked, hard.

  “Ow!” She flinched beneath him, moaned at the pleasure-pain sensation, then swore softly at the knowledge that he’d almost certainly left a mark on her neck.

  “I’ll be interested to hear what he says about that,” Danny said smugly, continuing to give slow, leisurely thrusts.

  She tried to hate him for being so arrogant and possessive, but all she could dredge up was dark desire and unhappiness that soon she’d be gone, and she’d never feel him inside her, would never feel his lips on hers again.

  He stopped moving and slid a hand beneath her to play with her nipples. Her clit throbbed and her body ached for release, but clearly he was going to draw out her pleasure as long as he could.

  She tried to move beneath him, to arouse herself and relieve the ache, but with her arms stretched out and his heavy weight on top of her she could hardly move.

  “Tell me this isn’t just fun for you,” he said.
He gave a smooth thrust, then stopped and tugged her nipples again.

  She groaned. “Danny, please.”

  He slid a hand beneath her chin, turned her mouth up to his, and kissed her, wet and hard. “Tell me you’re mine. Tonight. That you belong to me.”

  “I can’t...” Tears filled her eyes.

  He thrust again, his face fierce, and pushed forward hard, deeply into her. “Tell me.”

  A tear ran down her cheek and she gave in. “I’m yours, Danny. You know that. I’ll always be yours.”

  He stared at her, eyes wide, and then his expression softened. Dipping his head, he kissed away the tear on her cheek.

  Then he lifted himself up onto his hands, kneeling beneath her, and began to move properly. Pulling her toward him, he thrust into her, harder and faster, and it was all she could do to hang on and let him, feeling the tension building inside her until it exploded like a firework. She cried out, her face wet with tears, clenching around him, and he came at the same time, his fingers tightening on her hips as he spilled into her. Their bodies locked together for an eternity, frozen with passion, rigid with gratification.

  And then she went limp and burst into tears, sobbing into the sheet.

  Danny lowered himself on top of her for a moment, breathing heavily. Then he slid out of her, lifted to one side, and untied her hands.

  Hermione drew her arms down but couldn’t summon the energy to move, too overwhelmed with emotion to do anything but lie there.

  He stretched out beside her, covered them both with the duvet, and then turned her into his arms. Kissing her hair, he pulled her tightly against him.

  She sobbed into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  He sighed. “What have you got to be sorry about?”

  “It’s not just fun, Danny, I know it’s not. I’m such a mess.”

  “Ssh, it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have pushed you so far. Come on, sweetheart, it’s okay. I won’t do that again. I’m sorry. I think you’re a great girl, that’s all, and I want you to be happy.”

  She snuggled up against him, exhausted. She wasn’t strong enough to deal with it, not tonight. Maybe tomorrow she’d be able to argue with him, but tonight she just wanted to sleep.