by Finley Blake
I was in love.
All I could say was, “Oh shit…”
~****~
Kisses turned into touches. Housework turned into service. And the tundra turned into my own personal wonderland. For a job well done, Nicholas would take me in his arms and say, “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” When he was displeased – which was rare, but did happen at times – he would sigh and shake his head at me. His disappointment was heartbreaking and I never made the same mistake twice. I wanted to serve, to submit, and to surrender completely to him and the relationship that was growing between us.
Nicholas never did show me the extensive basement laboratory my father had created. He often tried to explain it over dinner and then when we rose from our chairs to go see it, we would get distracted with all that kissing. Besides, I didn’t understand most of the scientific principles behind everything. All I got was that Nicholas somehow made many things out of just a few resources, thanks to my father’s work. That, and he thought I was cute when I looked confused.
I also didn’t understand how he had lived so long without a woman’s touch. Twenty years without sex would drive me crazy, yet he managed to restrain himself.
For now.
I really wished he wouldn’t…
Over the next week, while I waited for him to come to terms with his own desire, I filled the house with more soft, colorful textures and music. Nicholas was more present than he had been in those first few weeks. He tinkered with small electronic devices in the living room or the kitchen, working on his projects alongside me as I cooked, washed dishes, knit, or stitched. When he was near me, he seemed to have to touch me at all times. His presence was simultaneously comforting and arousing, and it was driving me crazy for him.
Arousal was not a foreign sensation for me, but the emotional feeling coupled with it was. At St. Eden’s, they trained us in sexual servitude, flirtation, and using romance for political maneuvering. Here, though, I felt something I’d never felt before with another person. My desire to please him was not just on an intimate level, but on all levels.
My mind went to Azure. As usual, I wished I could turn to my somewhat more experienced sister for answers. Why did I always have to rely on others for, well, everything?
“Violet?”
“Hmm?” I looked up at him.
“Is something wrong?”
“No.” I returned my gaze to the work in my lap. “Why do you ask?”
“You’re just sitting there with yarn in your lap, doing nothing.”
“Oh.” When I took a breath, I realized he was right. The yarn was somewhat unraveled and the needles rested loosely in either hand, but I hadn’t even bothered casting on to start my next project. “Um, you’re distracting me.” He was. Every thought in my head was of him – a replay of the fantasies I’d been having about him kissing me elsewhere, besides my lips, about those kisses leading to something much more…
“Am I?”
His response startled me from my wandering thoughts, but before I could draw breath he pulled me into his arms. His lips pressed against mine with such hunger, I felt my heartbeat pick up a rapid pace. Could he have been wishing for the same things, too? He was a man – of course he was thinking about sex, especially after two long, brutal decades without it. I wanted to laugh at myself. These past few weeks, I’d held off from giving any indication that I wanted it, because I had to be sure he was over the pain of losing his wife, that he wouldn’t feel guilt over deepening our growing bond.
But perhaps he’d been the one holding back – doing his best to reinvent our relationship and giving me space to learn to trust him.
My knitting fell to the floor as I reached up to grasp his arms, my fingers curling into those strong, wiry biceps I’d imagined on either side of me while he thrust into me... When I moaned into his mouth, he swept me onto his lap. Yes… He thrust his tongue past my lips, feeding on that moan, encouraging me to fall deeper with his insistent touch.
When the kiss ended, we stayed motionless, foreheads pressed together, and little frantic pants of breath mingling. I wanted to stay just like this, in the moment, forever.
“Why did she send me here?” I whispered, my eyes on his.
“Because she knew I needed you.” His grip on me tightened. “I was lost without you. I was half-dead. You brought me hope. You’ve given me a reason to live and to keep on fighting for what’s right.”
I reached up and tentatively laid my fingers against the roughness of the hair on his jaw. “Hope.”
“I didn’t even have that before you arrived. Now I want you never to leave.” As he spoke, he shifted me beneath him, his hand sliding under my buttocks to position me under his lanky body. “These cushions you made were a damn good idea after all,” he growled before lowering his lips to my neck.
I giggled and squirmed as his hand cupped my backside and his knee pressed between my legs. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“What does it feel like I’m doing?” His other hand drifted from my arm to my breast and I gasped at the contact.
His closeness was intoxicating and I craved more of his warmth. Wrapping my arms around him, I nestled into his embrace, inviting his touch. He made a low, deep sound at that and his hands moved up to tangle in my curls as he moved his hungry mouth along my throat.
“You sweet, beautiful girl.” His lips crushed against mine once more and I felt it then – that spark I had always known could, and always hoped would, exist between me and another.
“Nicholas,” I whispered when he broke the kiss. His fingers traced my lips and I blinked up at him. “This can’t be real.”
“It is very real.”
“Then let’s stay like this.”
He nodded and tugged me closer. “Let’s,” he agreed before returning his mouth to my flesh. Every kiss, every little lick, every nibble on my skin made me feel cherished and very much desired. Then he said, “Not here. We’re going to do this upstairs in a proper bed.” He rose and pulled me to my feet to lead me up the stairs. I followed blindly, still reeling from his kisses.
We burst through the door and quite literally tumbled onto his bed as we reached for one another again. I plucked at his shirt, eager to get to the source of the warmth beneath the fabric. He accommodated me by removing it, then worked apart the buttons of my dress. It didn’t take long for me to withdraw my arms from the sleeves and shimmy the garment down over my hips.
As soon as it was on the floor, he gathered me in his arms again and kissed me down my neck, along each shoulder, and then across my breasts. His warm breaths made me sigh with pleasure and I reached for him to draw him up for another shared kiss. His tongue delved into my mouth, and I reveled in the sensation of us tasting one another.
He ran one of his fingertips across my mouth as he looked down at me. “It’s been so long since I…” He swallowed. It was the first time I had ever seen him nervous. “I’m not sure how long this will last,” he finished, his brows drawing together. “As much as I just want to throw you against the wall and fuck you as hard as I can–”
“One thing at a time,” I whispered as I placed my hands on either side of his face. “It’s alright if it doesn’t last very long. We can always do this again, if you want. And I like the idea of doing it against the wall next time.”
He groaned against my temple when my hands drifted to his waist. He was lean, more scientist than athlete, but years of his self-sustaining lifestyle had given him hard muscle. I swept my fingers over his pelvis and into his denim jeans, urging them down over his hipbones. Knowing how much he probably needed this, I just couldn’t wait to have him.
“I don’t want to go too fast,” he growled, then gasped when my touch found its mark, my hand closing around the proof of his desire for me. “Violet,” he said with a groan.
“Nicholas, you need this.” Even though I was the submissive, I knew I had to lead him. It was something I was trained to do – to give someone what t
hey truly needed, even if they didn’t realize their own need. The waistband of his boxers was no match for my insistent fingers, which now stroked his erection beneath the soft fabric. It was rock hard and my hand barely closed around the throbbing length when I grasped him again. I had a feeling he hadn’t even given himself release in all these years, and who was I to blame him for that? No, my role was to coax and lead and pleasure and relieve him. Only then could he give in to the wild passion he was so afraid to subject me to.
“Let me serve you,” I murmured against his ear and undulated beneath him. “Do what you want to me, whatever you need. I’m here for the taking.”
He thrust into my hand with an inarticulate moan, even as he tried to hold himself over me, to keep from giving in just yet. With one hand, he worked on shedding his boxers, until he was able to kick them to the floor. I knew it would be too much to expect to attain my own orgasm if his need was this intense, but this wasn’t the time to concern myself with that. If Nicholas was finally ready to take this step, I wanted it to be without any anxiety or regret. Once he had his initial release, I knew we could go from there. The thought of sex as therapy made me smile a little.
Before he could have second thoughts about my proposal that he simply use my body to sate his own, I angled my hips just right and pushed against him. He tried to draw back, but I pressed forward, inviting him into my warmth. The head of his shaft slid just inside me, proving I was as ready for this as I could ever be. I thrust my hips up toward him again and he glided effortlessly along my wet passage until he was sheathed deep within me. He gasped, a gratifying sound for me to hear, to know I was the one eliciting it from him. The pressure of him filling me tore an exhalation from me as well, and we pressed our foreheads together, bodies and breaths entwined.
I felt his furrowed brow as he whispered, “I want this to last long enough to make you happy. You are too sweet for me to use you like this, Violet. You should be protected and cared for. Not…”
“Not hammered like a nail?” A small giggle bubbled past my lips. All this time I’d anticipated making love as something sweet and serious, but I found myself giddy at the prospect of being the only person Nicholas had known in twenty years. I wanted to tell him we had forever, isolated here together in the middle of nowhere, but I knew that was a lie. Especially since we had both loved and lost.
Sobered by that thought, I kissed him lightly and stroked either side of his face with both hands. “It’s okay to let go,” I answered, meeting his gaze. “You have to take care of yourself before you can take care of me. That’s what I want, so just do what you have to do.”
I knew what I was giving him permission to let go of – his past, his pain, his fear. It was so much more than an invitation to loosen the iron grip he retained over his self-control. It was an invitation to finally lay all his trials and tragedies to rest, and start over new.
With a sigh, he moved within me. The fullness took my own breath away as he penetrated me again, then again, each stroke long and deliberate.
“I’m here,” I whispered, clutching at his arms and arching against him. “I’m here, Nicholas, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Something about my words must have liberated him from his initial tentative thrusts, because he plunged into me so hard, I cried out. Every time he crashed against me, I touched him, caressed him, let him know I was there for him. His pace increased and I stayed with him, encouraging him to release everything. It was time for him to stop holding back and time for me to stop letting him.
Nicholas’ cry of pleasure reverberated through me as he shot his seed. It pumped into me in a gush of liquid heat and then seeped down along my thighs, drenching our lower bodies and the bed. But it didn’t matter. Though I had not attained my climax, though it had not been the polite act I’d always expected, I reveled in his copious ejaculate. It was not just a physical release, but an emotional one as well.
He lay atop me, panting until he caught his breath. As his breathing evened out, he rolled to his side and gathered me into his arms. I felt him press kisses to the backs of my shoulders and neck, and felt the wet warmth of his tears on my skin.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Chapter 6
When I rolled over, it took a moment to remember where I was. Nicholas’ scent and heat, his warm arms encircling me, and tension thrumming through my body… We had fallen asleep in the evidence of our act, but it didn’t bother me. Not once had I felt the need to scrub myself clean, or apologize for giggling in the moments before intercourse. The heady sensuality of it all had kicked my refined upbringing to the curb, and it was welcome to do so again.
Oh yes, I hope there is an again...
Despite the fact that Nicholas smelled so good and we were comfortably snuggled together, I slipped from the bed, gathered my clothes, and tiptoed from the room. After a shower and change of clothes, I crept downstairs to start dinner. As the vegetable soup simmered, I set the table and tried to ignore the need ebbing and flowing within me. The nap had left me a bit fuzzy-headed, but the encounter… I wanted more. It could be against a wall – any wall – but it had to happen again, or I would be the one going crazy.
“You left.”
I turned at the sound of his voice. When I saw his frown, I was not certain what to expect from him. He crossed the floor in one stride and pulled me into his embrace. My face pressed to his chest and I could feel his heartbeat beneath the plain white t-shirt he wore.
“I didn’t like waking up alone,” he said against my hair.
“I didn’t mean to worry you. I just thought you would be as hungry as I am. Besides, I don’t really like napping.”
When he finally let me go and nodded, I let out a sigh of relief. “That smells good,” he said, before kissing me on the forehead.
I relaxed in his arms and waved toward the pot. “Salt is the real secret to anything. It brings out the flavors in most foods.”
“Is that a southern belief?” He looked down at me, one eyebrow raised.
Not sure if he was serious or mocking me, I laughed and shook my head. “It’s a cooking truth, Nicholas.”
“Fine. I won’t make fun of you.” He wrapped his arms around my waist, interlaced his fingers just behind my back, and sighed. “I needed that. You have no idea how frustrated I was.”
“Oh, I certainly do.” I rolled my eyes and pursed my lips.
He looked down at me, wide-eyed. “What’s that expression for? What do you mean?”
A smile tugged at my lips and I said, “Besides the fact that you left the, um, physical evidence of just how ‘backed up’ you were, you were impossible to deal with from the moment I set foot in this house.”
“Impossible?”
“Absolutely.” I grinned up at him, unwilling to back down. “I could use other words, if you prefer. You were a jerk, a pain in my butt, or – as my sister might say – an asshole.”
He arched his brows and looked down his nose at me. “I suppose you’re right. What do you think about me now?”
“Well...” I traced his lips with my forefinger. “You might be on the road to recovery.”
“Might?”
“Time will tell.”
“Let me show you ‘recovery’.” Nicholas picked me up and swung me over his shoulder. I giggled and pounded on his back with my fists. “You might want to think carefully about what you say to me,” he mock-growled. “I could take it the wrong way, and then where would you be?”
Up against a wall, I hoped!
“Fine!” I said. “You're a paragon of compassion and good humor! I’ve never met anyone so charming!” He bounced me against his shoulder and I squealed, clinging to his arm.
“That’s right, say what I want to hear. I control everything now.”
My breath hitched and I whispered, “Is that so?”
He lowered me to my feet and our gazes met. “It is, Violet, just as it should be.”
Before he could elaborate, a hissing sou
nd disrupted the moment. “Oh!” I turned around and realized the sizzling was due to the soup dribbling up and over the sides of the pot. “The heat’s too high!” I dashed to the stove and turned it down. “Well, I guess it’s ready. Sit down and I’ll serve dinner, and then we can go right back to bed, if you’re up for it.” I hesitated and glanced back at him. It was more of an Azure quip, but it had slipped out without a thought. I was feeling sassier than usual. Sassy, and still very aroused, my thighs slick with desire.
“I’m up for anything.” Nicholas winked, then turned on his heel and strolled into the dining room. His backside caught my attention and I stared at it until he turned the corner.
“Okay, then…” I turned back to the stove to gather my oven mitts and the pot with the simmering soup. In the dining room, I ladled our dinner into the deep bowls and watched Nicholas dig in without his usual reserve. Smiling, I sank into my chair and asked, “Isn’t it too hot to eat?”
“Not for me. You know, all of your cooking has been amazing and you’re right about how I behaved when you got here.” When his eyes met mine across the table, he said, “I’ve been an asshole from day one.”
After a few sips at the broth, I said, “You lost everything. It only makes sense that you put up walls to keep anyone else out, even far away from other people. Sometimes self-protection is all we have.”
“Yet you seem more…” He mulled over his thoughts as he ate a spoonful of vegetables, then continued. “More open than one might expect for someone who lost a person she loves. How did you keep from closing yourself off after losing your father?”
“I guess I managed because I still hoped for other things in my life, like love,” I said. “Maybe I also hoped he would eventually be found alive and safe. Azure dealt with her losses by becoming more hostile, sarcastic, but I believed where a door closed, a window would open.”
“Losses as in more than one? Your sister lost more than your father?”
“Oh, yes. She was deeply in love with a young man, but…” I shrugged and shook my head. “She won’t talk about it anymore. Anyway, maybe losing a lover in addition to losing my father would have hardened my heart as well. I hope I’ll never know that feeling.”
