The Silken Web

by Sandra Brown

  “Kathleen, don’t take me any further if you—”

  She placed her fingers against his lips. “Erik, please make love to me. Now.”

  He reached up and captured the hand caressing the back of his neck and brought its palm to his lips. “I pride myself on my finesse, but I can’t wait.”

  “Neither can I,” she whimpered, and moved against him until he had no choice but to stretch his length over her. Her body conformed to his with a silent entreaty, and he filled that aching void deep inside her.

  “Sweet…!” he grated. “You’ve always been ready for me, Kathleen. Oh, God, I thought my memory had embellished how good it was with us, but it hadn’t. If anything, my love, the memory was diluted.” His hands held her face captive as he rained light kisses over it.

  She sensed that he was being gentle with her, almost afraid. Staring directly into his cerulean eyes, her lips trembling, she said, “Don’t hold anything back, Erik. I want all of you.”

  “Kathleen, sweetheart… precious…” His knowledge of her became total. As she arched against each acquainting thrust, they gave their all.

  * * *

  “That’s heavenly,” she sighed as his strong hands massaged the muscles of her shoulders.

  “I thought you’d like this.”

  “How do you know how to do it so well?”

  “Practice.” He laughed.

  “Oh, you!” she cried, and turned her head to look up at him.

  He swatted her playfully on the bottom. “Lie back down or I’m going to stop.” The massage had been his idea after they had showered and returned to the bed.

  “No, you’re not. You like touching me too well.”

  “Don’t get sassy, or I’ll have to punish you.”

  She lifted one curious eyelid while the other was buried in the pillow. “How?” Kathleen asked in an unconcerned drawl.

  “Oh, I can think of a lot of diabolical ways. For instance,” he said as he moved his hands down her back to her hips, “I may have to get meaner and do this.” He was kneeling between her things now and kneading the backs of them with competent hands. His fingers teased her mercilessly, not quite touching what she longed to be touched.

  “Erik…”

  “Has the lady learned her lesson?” Erik asked as he lay on top of her and slipped his hands under her to caress the breasts she made available by raising up slightly.

  “Yes,” she answered languidly. His breath was hot on her skin as he moved her hair aside with his nose and began to nibble her ear.

  His hips settled more solidly on hers and she felt the tentative probings of his manhood. “Erik, please.”

  He kissed her cheek smackingly. “No. I’ve waited a long time for you, Kathleen.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her over. He brushed back the hair from her forehead and smiled at the look of dismay on her face. “Is this the same woman who accused me of being naughty? Hm?”

  “The very same,” she said mischievously, reaching for him.

  He dodged her hands. “Behave yourself. Last time we got a little carried away. It went by too fast. I want to take my time. I want to adore you first.”

  He kissed her. It was a sweet kiss that bloomed into passion and encompassed their entire mouths. It was a kiss of giving and receiving, of teasing and fulfilling, of promising and pledging.

  “You always smell so good,” Erik whispered as he worried the area under her ear and worked his way around her throat and down her chest.

  He raised up and looked in awe at her breasts. His hand settled on one and rubbed it gently in a circular motion. “Raise your arms over your head,” he instructed. Kathleen complied and he stared down at the lovely picture she made.

  Her hair formed a dark auburn cloud on the white pillow. The perfection of her face was set in that lovely frame. Her skin, the tanned areas contrasting with the paler flesh blocked by her bikini, glowed warmly. Her nipples were proud and inviting crowns.

  “You’re perfect,” he murmured. “Just the right size. Not too large, not too small. Infinitely female.” He lowered his head and flicked his tongue over the taut nipples, watching as they enlarged under his attention. “Beautiful,” he whispered. Then he closed his mouth around one eager bud and it was cherished in a most gratifying way. His lips trailed to the other breast as he said, “I wish you still had milk. I would have loved to taste it.”

  Her hands lowered and she wrapped them behind his neck. “I’m sorry you find me lacking.”

  “I find you lacking in nothing.”

  His hands wandered over her rib cage and onto her stomach and abdomen. Sensitive fingers fluttered over the auburn delta, fanning it gently, then moved lower to separate, find and please.

  A small, satisfied moan issued out of her throat as his lips followed the course charted by his hands. When he knelt between her thighs and lifted her to receive the tribute of his mouth, she offered no resistance. He kissed her into sweet oblivion, deeper and more wonderful than any she had known. With the heat of his mouth, he branded her as his.

  Before she was swept away by a floodtide of passion, she clasped his head with her hands and cried, “Erik, not that way. With you.”

  He raised himself over her and melded his body with hers. He plunged deeply and she closed around him. He stirred, expanded, touched her womb. Withdrawing, he nudged the secret spot with the smooth, glistening tip of his manhood. Then he was within her again, stroking her. The cycle was repeated until Kathleen thought she would dissolve. She heeded his words and didn’t hurry it. They had time. Eternity. For surely this was rebirth.

  When they finally allowed themselves to succumb, they did so together and became one in body and in spirit.

  * * *

  “I’m starving,” Kathleen said from the bed. She was sitting up against the headboard with the sheet pulled up to her chin. Erik was standing at the window watching the clouds as they rolled east over the ocean. The storm was spent and only a remnant of soft rain was left in its wake.

  Erik turned and grinned boyishly at her. “It’s no wonder. I think we burned up about ten thousand calories since last night.”

  She blushed prettily. “Well, if one needs to lose a couple of pounds, I can’t think of a better way to diet.”

  “You don’t need to lose any. You’re too skinny as it is.”

  “Skinny!” She dropped the sheet as she sat up in indignation. “I’m not skinny.”

  He looked at her breasts unabashedly. “I’ll concede that some parts are more filled out than others.”

  Kathleen threw a pillow at him, but he deftly caught it before it could do any damage. “I guess you’re hoping that I’ll chivalrously volunteer to go get us something to eat.”

  “I think that’s the least a gentleman could do. You didn’t even buy my dinner.”

  “My clothes will get wet again,” he whined.

  “So you’ll just have to take them off again. And I couldn’t possibly wear clothes and make you feel self-conscious, so I’ll just leave mine off, too. But, of course, if you’d rather not…”

  “I’m going, I’m going,” Erik said as he pulled on his semidry jeans and shirt. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” He winked as he shut the door behind him.

  She moved only enough to rest her forehead on her raised knees. “I won’t think about it,” she averred to herself. “I won’t think about the consequences of this, or anything right now but being with Erik. I love him. Surely I deserve this small time out of my whole life. Don’t I? Don’t I? I won’t think about responsibility or loyalty or duty or morality. Tomorrow doesn’t exist. Today he’s with me, loving me. I refuse to think beyond that. I love him. I love him.”

  When he returned carrying a sack of groceries, she welcomed him with open arms.

  He laughed as he shook water out of his hair and onto her naked skin. “See, you’ve already broken your promise never to get me wet again.”

  “I broke it when we got in the shower last night,”
he teased as he bent to kiss her on the nose. “You weren’t complaining then.”

  “I was being polite,” Kathleen said righteously.

  “Polite! I’ve heard of southern hospitality, but, baby—” She stuck a sweet roll in his mouth to shut him up.

  He had bought them doughnuts, fruit, crackers, cheese, potato chips, chocolate bars and a can of tuna—which was useless, since they had no way to open the can. Nevertheless, it was one of the happiest, if one of the most unbalanced, meals that either of them had eaten. They ate it picnic-style on the floor. Erik had changed out of his wet clothes, but they decided to uphold a semblance of civilization and wrap towels around themselves. Erik insisted that it was only fair that hers come no higher than his, so they compromised on the waistline as the line of demarcation. He did allow her, however, to drop her string of coral beads around her neck. “They hang in such a naughty place,” he remarked, tracing the line of beads.

  When they had eaten all they wanted, deciding to save the leftovers for later, she reached for a hairbrush. Rising to her knees, she faced him and started raking the brush through his hair.

  “I’m glad your hair grew back around your scar,” she said as she found the faintly pink line marking the head wound he had suffered in the airplane wreck.

  “Yeah. It only took a few weeks once the bandage came off. My hair grows fast.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said musingly.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  Kathleen looked down to see that her breasts were directly in front of his face and swaying beguilingly as she used the hairbrush.

  “Put that thing down.” He captured her wrist, shaking it gently until the brush was dropped to the floor. He placed her arms around his neck, then leaned his head into her chest. She made a low, contented sound in her throat when she felt him blowing on her skin, bringing her nipples to erect attention with his warm breath.

  “Touch me,” he commanded. “Take me between your hands and feel how much I want you.” His breath hissed through his teeth when she did as he asked. “No one else, Kathleen. No one is like you,” he vowed. “You’ve bewitched me, and under your spell, I become stronger than I’ve ever been and at the same time I tremble with weakness.”

  She caressed him, and as she did, he felt more of a man than ever before in his life. “Now,” he pleaded.

  His hands lifted her toward him until he was supporting her on the strength of his thighs. Then he was sheathed in liquid velvet.

  “Kathleen.” Her name was almost a sob as he clasped her to him. Gently, almost without passion but with something much stronger, he rocked her against him. Each time she came closer, he went deeper, until only the universe was more secure in itself than they were with each other.

  A new feeling welled up inside Kathleen. This was different. She felt a completion that went beyond orgasmic fulfillment. She was Erik; he was her.

  When the full impact of the tumult came, she chanted his name. His own hoarse cry was, “You’re mine!”

  * * *

  “Is there really a dimple under there?” she asked lazily, trailing a finger along his mustache. They lay on the bed facing each other, replete. Only their hands weren’t idle as they explored, languishing in the privilege of touching.

  “Maybe I should shave that side of it, so you’ll know for sure.” He captured her finger in his mouth and sucked it gently.

  “Don’t you dare!” she exclaimed.

  A deep laugh rumbled in his chest. “Why not?”

  “Two reasons. First, I might think you were extremely ugly without it.”

  “Thank you. What’s the second reason?”

  “It feels good,” she cooed.

  “Oh, yeah?” He raised up on one elbow, his eyebrow cocked suggestively. “Where? Here?” He touched the corner of her mouth with his finger.

  “Un-huh.” He leaned down and kissed where he had touched.

  “Here?” he asked, capturing an impudent nipple between his fingers.

  “Un-huh.” Like a weapon designed strictly for seduction, the mustache brushed across the tip of her breast.

  “Here?”

  Her back arched reflexively, lifting her hips off the bed, as he touched her again. “Yes, Erik,” she breathed.

  He lowered his head. Before the game was over, her body knew well his mastery.

  * * *

  The rain finally abated late in the afternoon and they walked on the beach hand in hand.

  “I understand that on a normal day, when the tide goes out, there is a sandbar several hundred yards from shore,” Erik told her. “You can walk out to it. When the tide comes in, it’s completely covered up and no one could ever guess it’s there.”

  “It’s a lovely island,” Kathleen remarked needlessly. Any place would look beautiful to them now.

  All day they talked. He told her about quitting his job in St. Louis and going to Europe. He went into more detail about Jaimie’s being adopted by Bob and Sally.

  “He’s like a different kid from the one you knew. He’s opened up so much, it’s amazing. No one can shut him up. Of course, my mother adores him. Until little Jennifer was born last summer, he was her only grandchild.”

  Silently, both of them amended that. Theron was her grandchild, too.

  “Is she still in Seattle?” Kathleen asked to cover up the uneasy lull in their conversation.

  “Yes.”

  “And Bob and Sally?”

  “They live in Tulsa. That’s why they were able to get to Fort Smith within hours of the accident. Bob’s name was on my identification card as next of kin to notify in case of an emergency. They drove straight to Fort Smith after the doctor called them. Bob is an engineer for an oil company.”

  They talked about everything but studiously stayed away from the subject of Seth and her marriage. For that day, it didn’t exist.

  “I’ve never slept with Tamara,” he said when they were sitting in the sand still wet from the rain.

  “What?” Kathleen acted as if she hadn’t heard him. Then she looked back out to sea. “I never said you had.”

  He laughed and draped an arm around her shoulders. “But that’s what you thought. Give me some credit, Kathleen. Did you really think I’d want a slut like that?” He seemed genuinely dismayed. “Every man from here to Timbuktu has been invited between her legs. I went alone to the beach. She followed me.”

  “But I saw her come out of the water naked and fall on top of you. She—”

  “She got promptly thrown off, too. Only you didn’t wait to see that part.” When he saw Kathleen’s skeptical look, he said, “Oh, I admit, she was after me from the word go, but I never accepted the invitation. In fact, I discouraged it. Subtlety escapes Tamara, and she doesn’t take rejection well.”

  “I wanted to kill her every time she put her hands on you.” The green eyes shone with a fierce light.

  “You’re a little tigress, Kathleen Haley,” Erik teased, and neither of them noticed that he hadn’t used her married name. “What about all the times you’ve had your hands on me? Hm?”

  “That’s different,” she defended.

  “I’ll say it is.”

  They returned to the bungalow, not trusting the privacy of the beach now that the rain had stopped.

  * * *

  “I just called the airstrip. No planes will be flying out tonight, but there’ll be one here first thing in the morning.” Erik spoke the words mechanically, not allowing his despair to show. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the telephone as though he hated it.

  “All right,” Kathleen said as she came out of the bathroom.

  He raised his eyes to hers, then took both her hands and drew her down on the bed beside him. He memorized each nuance of her face, breathed in the fragrance that belonged only to her. “We have to go home, Kathleen,” he said quietly.

  She touched his hair, his shaggy brows, his mustache and the lips beneath it. “I know. But not tonight. Tomorrow.”


  He lay back and pulled her into the curve of his shoulder. His expression was pensive. Strands of her hair were sifted slowly through his fingers.

  “What?”

  “Hm?”

  “What are you thinking?”

  He drew a deep breath. “I was thinking a most distressing thought.”

  She raised up and leaned over him. She had never seen him so introspective, except perhaps the time he had told her about his Ethiopian experience. “What, Erik?”

  “It has occurred to me that every time I’ve been with you, I’ve come on like a rampaging bull. I’ve taken advantage of this explosive attraction we have for each other and used it without any tenderness.”

  “Erik, that attraction is reciprocal. You’ve never taken more than I’ve been willing to give.”

  “Haven’t I?” he asked, swinging his legs to the floor and crossing to the window. Kathleen sat up in the middle of the bed, perplexed by this new side of the man she thought she knew well.

  “Erik, what is it? What’s bothering you?” she asked gently.

  He leaned against the windowsill and stared out over the water. “It bothers me to think that you might not know how I feel about you. It bothers me to think that you might justifiably believe that all I care about is your sexuality. I’ve never told you that there are so many other things… Kathleen—” He gestured helplessly, struggling for words. “I find it difficult to convey tender emotions.”

  “That’s not true. You’re affectionate with Theron. I remember how you handled the children at the camp. You were—”

  “Yes,” he cut in impatiently. “Yes, but with you, more often than not, I’m abusive. You, more than anyone, provoke my temper, which I admit is dangerously short. And I don’t understand that, because I do care a great deal for you, Kathleen. Some of the things I’ve said to you, done to you, are… there’s no word strong enough. Why do I continually wound you the way I do? Almost as if I’m punishing you.”

  She sat silently, pleating the covers of the bed between trembling fingers. She cleared her throat of the knot suddenly grown there. “Why… why do you suppose you can’t express your feelings, Erik?”