“Amadeus,” I cooed softly, “would you like to check out our new bedroom?”
It was all the encouragement he needed. Noisily he shoved back his chair and hauled me into his arms. “Why go all the way upstairs to the bedroom, love?”
He kissed me fiercely. A thorough, taking kiss, parting my lips with his tongue as he ravaged my mouth. I smelled the soap and muskiness of his body and tasted the red wine on his tongue. His hands ran over my blouse and he filled his palms with my breasts. I caught myself making some sort of whimpering sound as a hot need surged through both of us. Shoving the remaining plate out of the way, he lifted me up on the table and settled himself between my legs.
The blouse came off as fast as his fingers could unfasten the buttons and unfasten my lace bra. I heard him groan with desire as he removed my jeans and lace panties.
Kneeling in front of me, he ran his hands over my hips as I leaned back, propping myself up on my elbows as he eased my legs further apart and began to kiss my knees, the inside of my thighs, making his way toward his goal. He urged me back on the table and began to suck on my nipples. I started moaning as he started to move lower once again.
He kissed me everywhere, my navel, my hipbones until he came to the apex between my legs. He found that tiny bud of my sex and took it in his mouth.
“Oh, god. Amadeus…” I ran my hands through his hair as he sucked. The man knew all the right moves to make with his mouth.
Making his way back to my breasts, he began kissing them again, dipping his tongue into my navel until he returned to his intention. This time he was more intense with his mouth and tongue. I could feel myself arching off the table and my thigh muscles contract as I neared my release.
He didn’t stop until I climaxed, then took me with his mouth a second time, laving and tasting until another climax shook me.
I was limp and supple by the time he slid me off the table onto my feet and eased me over to my stomach. He gripped my hips and pressed himself against me, letting me feel how hard he was.
“Amadeus...oh god,” I heard myself say as he slid into me, filling me, taking me so deeply I moaned. Each stroke he took both of us higher, closer. I could feel myself tighten around his cock as I came again. He drove into me until he could no longer hold back, then exploded over the edge into release.
It was the fiercest climax I could remember Amadeus having.
Afterward he simply stood there, holding me against his chest, his arms wrapped around my waist.
As I turned to face him, he drew me closer into his embrace.
“Oh God, Zara that was beyond incredible,” he whispered. “That was unbelievable.”
“Mmmm,” was all I could manager.
“Come,” he said, picking up our clothes before he gathered me in his arms. “Let’s go upstairs. I think we’ll both be able to sleep for a while.”
He got no argument from me. It had been a long, tiring day and now I was completely sated and relaxed from our incredible lovemaking.
We went through the house turning off lights and locking the house up as we made our way upstairs to the bedroom. I threw the covers back and fell on to the mattress. Amadeus snuggled behind me and that was the last thing I remembered until early the next morning.
******
Over the course of the next month we not only made a consorted effort to become familiar with our new home and the surrounding countryside. We spent our days taking long walks around the farm as the weather permitted. On the rainy days, if we were not holed up in the house, Amadeus and I would take long drives in the Land Rover. We would pick a location for our destination, pack up the car and go. It wasn’t just the rainy days we went. We’d go out on good days, discovering Edinburgh and the surrounding countryside. We knew that summers were short in Scotland and wanted to get in as much as we could before the cold Scottish winter set in.
I made picnic lunches to take along with us on our excursions. These lunches were fast becoming something we both looked forward to. We would find a spot, lay out a blanket and talk for hours around our feasting on whatever I packed early that morning.
Amadeus was beginning to write once again. He started by jotting down ideas in a notebook he kept with him, and once we returned, played them out on the piano at the farmhouse.
And we were rediscovering each other. Amadeus and I had reconnected on an even deeper level since we moved to Scotland. It was apparent we were back—our relationship tighter than it had been even previously.
We were spending a warm afternoon together finishing up one of the picnic lunches, sitting on a boulder, gazing into a small lake, Amadeus reached for my hand. He laced his fingers with mine and drew me to my feet.
“Come on. There is something I’ve been wanting to show you.”
I let him lead me down around a winding dirt path. He led me down to a cove, hidden from above by trees and shrubs.
“It’s perfect, A.” I sat down on the edge of a felled tree trunk and began removing my boots and socks. I followed by unzipping my jeans and letting them fall over my hips to the ground. I tugged the tee shirt I had on over my head. The next thing I knew Amadeus was in front of me.
I felt his hands on my body as he unfastened the hook at the front of my bra and tossed it aside, caressing my breasts as they swelled into his palms.
He had already stripped, his suntanned skin, the wide shoulders and muscled chest, his long legs and lean hips. His sex was already hard.
He planted a soft kiss on my lips, his mouth gentle on mine, tasting, exploring, the kiss deepening, turning hot and wet.
“God Zara, I want you.”
I moaned as he kissed me again, his tongue singing into my mouth, my tongue tangling with his. The kiss went on and on, deep and hot and arousing. He nipped an earlobe, kissed the side of my neck, trailed kisses over my shoulder, took the fullness of my breast into his mouth. He sucked and teased, and I trembled at his touch. My legs felt weak, my body was wet with the need to join with him.
His hands slid lower, one curving over my bottom while the other slipped inside my panties, sifted through the tight, dark curls between my legs, and he began to stroke me. I arched my back to give him better access. Amadeus slid my panties down my legs as I slipped out of them, and tossed them onto the sand next to my bra.
He kissed me deeply one last time, then turned me toward a rock at the edge of the lake. I bent over, flattened my palms on the warm rock as he moved behind me. His fingers found my softness, sank in, slid out, sank in again, and ripples of heat washed over me. It was sex, raw and hot, and yet the way he touched me, the way he made me feel, there was more to it.
I felt his erection at my entrance, then he positioned himself and drove deeply inside. Amadeus gripped my hips and I moaned at the feel of his hard length inside me, the heavy thrust and drag as he moved in and out, driving deeper, faster, making my stomach quiver. My head fell back as need, sweet and fierce, tore through me.
“Zara…”he whispered, thrusting into me again, taking his pleasure, giving me pleasure, as well.
I whimpered his name, as I reached my peak and began to come, tightening around him like a hot wet glove. The pleasure went on and on, bright lights and sweetness expanding until I could hardly breathe.
I was beginning to spiral down when I felt him come hard, spilling his seed deep within me. He pulled me back against his chest, holding me gently, softly kissing the nape of my neck.
“I love you, Zara.”
“I love you too, A.”
“Our sex has always been fantastic, hasn’t it?”
“Yes it always has been quite incredible.”
“You ready to head back? I’d like to get back to the house. Unless of course you’d like another go of it, Mrs. Tudor.”
******
Amadeus and I had a ten day window before his mother would arrive for what we hoped would be the first of many visits. He had been feverishly writing new material and he and Peter had arranged to meet in London
to work on some of it.
Deciding we didn’t have enough time to take the train or drive, we flew into London where one of Peter’s staff met us. We were spending the time at Peter’s home in an upscale London neighborhood.
While the two of them spent hours on end in Peter’s studio I shopped and visited with one of Peter’s daughters and some friends of Amadeus’ and mine. Peter’s daughter Linda and I went out to lunch one day, stopping at several boutiques for some much needed shopping therapy.
I love British fashion – hell I love anything British, always had. Linda made sure we even hit a few of the men’s shops, although I could never find much that screamed “Amadeus” to me.
I even found some linens and home goods which I had shipped to the farm in Scotland. I didn’t know where I’d use them, but they caught my eye and I knew I needed them in my home, wherever that might be.
The trip to London also marked a significant change. Amadeus was returning to the spotlight. With help from Peter and me, he picked out four songs, three he had recorded prior to his “accident”. Two had been written with Peter. But he threw all of us for a loop when he made his decision for the initial release.
He had written a song on the farm, one I had only heard in bits and pieces until London. It was a love song, something not a-typical of Amadeus’ music. The song moved me to tears the first time I heard it in its entirety. It was a song about us. Oh sure, he’d written songs about us over the years, but this one was far more personal.
Once Peter and I heard it as it was, recorded at Peter’s studio we knew this song would be Amadeus’ come back hit.
The one morning I was at Peter’s office with his daughter Linda, we took advantage of the situation and made a mock up for a cover of Amadeus’ upcoming, long awaited release. I had photos of him at Peter’s Scottish farm that I had purposely left on my camera to show Linda. She went straight to the one image of Amadeus I had taken by that small lake, his hair blowing in a soft breeze, looking deep in thought.
After five days of the boys working pretty much non-stop on new material it was time for Amadeus and me to return to the farm in Scotland. Grace was due to arrive in three days.
Chapter Eight
I woke up suddenly, early in the morning. I jolted upright, sick to my stomach. I flew out of bed and managed to make it to the toilet just in time. What the hell? I thought to myself. I stood up and found a closet where I found a wash cloth. I walked over to the sink and drenched it in cold water and applied it to my face. I rinsed it out one more time before I crawled back into bed. Amadeus was awake, eyeing me as I placed the cloth on my forehead.
“Zara? Are you okay, baby?”
I shook my head and said nothing.
“It couldn’t be anything you ate, 'cause I’m fine. You might have picked some kind of bug up on the trip back.”
I nodded my head in agreement. He was sitting up on the bed, rubbing one of my hands, trying to comfort me. I glanced over at him through the corner of the wash cloth.
“That’s probably what it is—something I picked up on the plane ride. I’ll be fine.”
“How about I get you some aspirin or something and then you can go back to sleep. Maybe you’ll feel better in a few hours.”
Nodding my head in agreement I handed him the wash cloth as he got up off the bed. I lay back down and waited for him to return.
A few minutes later Amadeus returned with a bottle of water, two aspirin and the wash cloth. I sat back up and gratefully took the aspirin and water from him. He handed me the wash cloth, which I placed back on my forehead.
“Come back to bed, A. I’m sure I’ll feel better in a couple of hours.”
He slid in next to me his arm snaked around my waist.
Over the next two days each was the same. I woke up sick and stayed miserable most of the day. There was nothing that could make me feel better. I sipped on hot tea and ate virtually nothing but bread or soda crackers.
Amadeus spent most of this time outside during the day, exploring the farm on his own, leaving me to rest. He seemed to thrive in the brisk Scottish outdoors. I noticed he was more relaxed when he came back inside. I also noticed him writing things down in his ever-present notebook, especially since we returned from our visit with Peter. He watched over me like a mother hen, cooked dinner in the evening and made sure I had whatever I needed before he went on his outdoor ventures.
Sometime during that second day, I seemed more focused. As I sat on the sofa drinking my zillionth cup of hot tea it hit me. I got up from the sofa, walked upstairs in my tee shirt. Finding my planner, I took it back downstairs with me. I started thumbing through the pages, looking at the calendars and my notes. I started grinning widely as it dawned on me. . .I wasn’t sick from something I’d caught aboard the plane ride back from London. In fact I wasn’t sick at all. Oh well, I guess you could say I was sick in a way. I was pregnant!
Amadeus and I found out right from the start that conception was one matter we would never have to worry over. I had conceived the first time we had ever made love, which resulted in Wolfgang. I giggled happily to myself.
Laying my planner on the sofa beside me, I got myself up and went back upstairs. Figuring out finally what ailed me I walked in the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the steam from the hot water fill the room. I stepped in and let the water flow over my body as I stood there soaping myself up, then rinsing. I washed my hair and afterwards stood with my back to one of the showerheads and enjoyed myself for the first time in a couple of days.
After drying myself off, I rubbed myself with body lotion before blow-drying my hair and added a little make-up. I found a pair of jeans to slide into after putting on new underwear. I found a lightweight sweater and my shoes and headed downstairs.
I tied up my shoes and put the sweater on as I glanced in a mirror on my way out the door. I was so ecstatic I couldn’t wait to find Amadeus.
Amadeus was sitting on the ground at the top of a small hill in the middle of a meadow. He was writing in his notebook and looked up as he saw me approach. The look on his face was one of curiosity. He stood up as I drew closer.
“It’s good to see you out of the house, Zara. I take it you feel better?”
“Not entirely, but better than I did earlier. I thought some fresh air might do me some good.” I grabbed the hand he offered and we walked to another spot where we could look down over the farm.
“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” He asked as he helped me to the ground. He sat next to me and held out his notebook. “I’ve been writing all kinds of ideas down Zara. It’s like my mind has just opened up out here, especially since Peter and I got together in London.”
“It is beautiful here. I love it. And I’m so glad it’s helping you get your muses back.”
“Me too. I thought once you felt better I’d sit down at the piano and work on some ideas I have in my head.”
“Don’t hold back on account of me, babe. You know I love to hear you play.”
He bent over toward me and kissed me lightly on the lips. Well Zara, might as well tell him.
“Amadeus…”
“What, love?”
“I think, no let me rephrase that. I’m pregnant, Amadeus. That’s why I’ve been sick.”
He laid his head back and started laughing, his hair blowing in the gentle breeze. He took hold of my hand and squeezed.
“Did I say something funny?”
“No not at all, sweet. That’s fantastic! Really!”
“Then what is so funny?”
“Just the fact that evidently all I have to do is look at you and you get pregnant. Conception is not one of our weaknesses is it?”
He squeezed my hand, a lopsided grin on his handsome face.
“No, that certainly isn’t because by my calculations I conceived the first time we made love after we got back together.”
“Hmmm, I remember. That makes twice you’ve conceived the first try – whether we were consciously
trying or not.”
“Would you mind if we went into town this afternoon? I’d like to confirm my suspicions with a pregnancy test. Not that I think they need to be.”
“Of course, babe. You sure you’re up to it?”
“Yes. It’ll do me good to get out for a while. Perhaps we could try and have lunch while we’re out.”
“I’d like that. We need to go pick up some groceries while we’re out too. Mother will be here tomorrow and I’d hate not to have anything to feed her.”
I lay back on the grass, closed my eyes and tried to enjoy the sun and this beautiful day. Amadeus slid next to me, propped up on one arm. He began rubbing my abdomen with his free hand as he bent over and kissed me.
“I think we’d better think about going into town before we get distracted and forget about going,” I teased as I sat back up.
We spent the next couple of hours exploring the small village near the farm. We ate lunch at a pub where I was able to eat most of what I had ordered even though it wasn’t as appealing as I thought it would have been when I ordered it.
From there we found a pharmacy and after looking around finally found a pregnancy test and a couple other items I hadn’t brought with me, but needed. Then it was off to the grocery store. Amadeus got way more than we needed. I think he was having fun discovering new items and brands.
I started to put the groceries away when we returned but Amadeus thrust the bag with the pregnancy test in my face.
“You’re not anxious, are you?” I teased him, taking the bag from him. I kissed his cheek and turned toward the bathroom.
I came back a short time later. I had deliberately taken my time leaving the bathroom. The test was positive just like I knew it would be. But the tease in me wanted to let Amadeus sweat a little while longer. He’d either come knocking on the door or wouldn’t be too far away. I finally came out of the bathroom. As I figured he was standing in front of the bathroom, leaning against the wall.
Tudor Rubato Page 7
