They never ran together. Macklin's long legged lope was far more efficient than her own shorter stride. Over short distances, her sprint beat him – just. But she couldn't match him for distance, his apparently effortless stride demolishing mile after mile. She would finish her three miles marginally quicker, but he would continue on for ten miles, never once slacking the pace. If he did pace himself, or if he decided to push himself harder, then his superior strength and stamina left her behind.
It didn't really matter. Although they may deny it, there was an element of competition between them, but it never descended into jealousy or petty spite. They each had their strengths and weaknesses, and they complimented each other perfectly.
She loved times like this – perched up in the boughs of the tree, watching him circle the perimeter of their land until he had completed his allotted distance. He appeared completely unaware of her scrutiny, making the ten mile run look so effortless. Sweat stained the dark green t-shirt across his back and chest, but she couldn't make that out from this distance. Her imagination filled the gaps. His breathing would be smooth and steady, the red blond hair slicked with sweat and curling at the nape of his neck and behind his ears.
She sighed as he dipped out of sight. If she climbed higher, she might just be able to follow his route through the trees, but the unseasonably warm April weather made her clamber back down the tree to firm ground and make for the nearby pool. The water streaming down into the pool barely merited the term waterfall, but technically that was what it was. She usually finished her run here, the cool, clear water providing a welcome relief on hot summer days.
But not today. Today, she was here to simply enjoy the picture perfect surroundings. The house was perfect – lots of rooms for her to lose herself in, she had thought, when she'd purchased it so many years before. Somewhere to hide herself away. Now the house provided a welcome haven for both of them, locking the world outside instead of locking herself away. A minor distinction, perhaps, but one she recognised. And this secluded spot was another reason the place had so appealed to her. Here, it was quite easy to forget the rest of the world even existed.
The pool itself lay in full sunlight, the crystal clear water fed by the stream running down from the hillside. The whole area lay hidden in a dip eaten away by time and weather. The rocks had been worn to a smooth grey-silver lustre by the constant stream of water, and the pebble strewn river bed glistened with white, red, grey and black stones. The only sounds were the laughter of the stream, the songs of the birds, and the sighing of the breeze through the nearby trees.
The pool was deep enough and wide enough to swim in comfortably, with no currents to threaten. The only danger was the rocks themselves, if one were foolish enough to attempt to dive into the cold water. Privacy was not an issue – not only was it private land, but it was in the middle of nowhere. Their own personal paradise, unseen and unknown.
She shed her clothes without embarrassment, content with only the birds and sky watching, and slid into the pool. She gasped as the cold water caressed her skin, lowering herself slowly into the pool. She swam lazily, diving briefly under the water and gasping as she broke the surface, wiping the cold water from her face and pushing her wet hair back before continuing her idle breast stroke through the water.
She turned onto her back, her legs moving strongly but subtly, her arms floating out from her sides. She felt the warmth of the sun on her face, bright orange and red streaks on her closed eyelids, and smiled from the sheer simple pleasure of sun, water and silence.
She swam towards the shallows, waiting for the last moment to put her feet on the slippery pebbles of the pond bottom and stepping out of the water. She shivered as the breeze caressed her skin, the water streaming from her. She ran her hands over her hair, smoothing it back from her face and forcing water from it.
She pulled a towel from the rucksack and lightly dried her hair, before settling down on the outspread blanket in the shade of the trees. She laid the towel across her, letting it relieve the slight chill of the breeze against her wet skin, and closed her eyes. The light through the leaves shone dappled across her. Her book lay ignored beside her as she lay on her back beneath the tree and let the tranquillity wash over her.
Macklin let the steady thud of his feet lull him into a rhythm, never faltering, never changing, as he ran the ten mile course. His mind cleared, lost in the relentless pattern of step after step, with nothing to listen to but his footfalls, his breathing, and the thump of his heart, as regular and unwavering as his steps.
He slowed as he approached the pond. The ground underfoot sloped rapidly, and the slick grass hid slippery rocks that could catch the unwary. He picked his way carefully through the undergrowth, through the small copse of trees, and into the grotto.
As always, the simple beauty of the place made him pause to take it all in again, as though seeing it for the first time. His lips curled into a smile when he saw the figure lying sprawled underneath one of the trees. Lying on her back, naked apart from the towel draped across her abdomen and hips, Maggie looked both deliciously innocent and delightfully wanton. Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed and peaceful, making her look far younger than her years or experience. He could tell from her regular breathing that she was asleep.
Silently, he approached, not wanting to disturb her. Finding her in such an ethereal setting felt like he had walked into some scene from mythology. A hunter finding chaste Artemis in her hallowed groves. He grinned to himself – being turned into a stag for his trespass suddenly seemed a fair price to pay.
He stepped to one side, allowing his shadow to fall over her face. As he knew she would, she woke instantly, immediately alert. She relaxed when she saw him smiling down at her.
"Have I interrupted something?" he asked.
She stretched languorously. He felt his groin stir and twitch as her breasts flexed and shifted when she stretched her arms above her head. His gaze followed down her body, at the way her stomach curved in under her ribs, her legs straightened to their fullest extent. Even her toes pointed and curled. She gave a sigh as she relaxed after her stretch
"Not really," she said at last. "I was just about to be ravished against a tree by a passing jogger." She gave him a slow smile of invitation.
"You have a strange idea of comfort," he said, a teasing light in his steel-blue eyes.
She reached for the basket beside her, pulling out a bottle of red wine and two glasses. "You think so?" she said, twirling the glasses in her hand, her eyebrow raised expectantly.
He laughed, pulling off his sweat soaked t-shirt. Her eyes lowered, watching the steady rise and fall of his broad chest as he breathed, the sheen of sweat on his golden skin glinting in the sunlight. She watched the play of muscles across his arms and back as he bunched up the material and threw it to one side, unconsciously licking her lips as he reached for his jogging pants.
He paused, catching the lust darkening her eyes as she waited for him to remove his trousers. His fingers dipped inside the waist band, hesitating as he waited for her eyes to meet his. When she raised her eyes, and he saw the look of surprised disappointment at his delay, he grinned, before sliding the pants down smoothly, stepping out of them and throwing them towards the discarded t-shirt.
Her breathing had changed note as soon as he had lowered the trousers, her lips parting to allow her tongue to pass over her reddened lips. Her eyes shone as she slowly tracked down his body, taking in the well-defined stomach muscles, moving rhythmically as he breathed steadily in and out. His lean hips dipped and hollowed, a light dusting of golden hairs leading from his chest down towards his groin, only broken briefly by the cruel scars from his gunshot wounds, now silvered and pale against the lightly tanned skin. His erection rose from a nest of golden red curls, bobbing gently against his stomach in time with his heartbeat.
She licked her lips at the sight of his obvious arousal, but forced her gaze lower, following the line of his long legs, lithe muscles taut and clearly defined from his exertions.
"I'll just freshen up," he said, smiling at her clearly appreciative gaze. He looked surprisingly boyish, his shy smile curling his lips as he looked up at her through golden lashes. He still felt a pang of self-consciousness at her open appraisals of his physical form, but he had learned to accept it. She desired him, wanted him, lusted after him. She also loved him, and he would never get tired of hearing or seeing that from her.
She watched as he stepped into the water, sitting up to allow a better view of him. The sunlight turned his skin golden, highlighting his smooth muscles as they flexed and flowed under his skin. She felt a pang of separation as he disappeared under the water, and settled the wine and glasses back in the shade before rising to follow him. Watching him move, seeing the play of those sleek, hard muscles under the warm, soft skin, like steel under satin, caused a warm curl of lust in the pit of her stomach, burning tendrils stretching up into her chest and down her legs.
She moved further up the pool to where a large grey boulder afforded a view over the water. The stone was warm, the heat soaking through her skin as she sat on the surface looking down over the pool. She could see him moving through the water beneath the surface, the sunlight gleaming on the silver water and his golden body. She sat with one leg curled under her, the other raised, her chin resting on her knee.
He broke through the surface, treading water underneath her, squinting as he looked up at her against the bright sky. His hair lay slicked back against his head, the water turning the blond hair to the colour of old gold.
"You remind me of the Lorelei," he said with a smile.
"You're the one in the water," she replied. "Not that you look much like a Rhine Maiden." She tilted her head to one side as though carefully considering the picture he presented. "You're more a Siegfried, I think," she announced at last.
He chuckled before pushing up out of the water to fold himself in half and dive back beneath the surface, graceful as an otter. He made for shallower water, to where he could reach the bottom of the pool and stand up. His head and shoulders broke the surface as he stood upright at last, looking around him again. She had gone. A quick frown passed over his face as he searched the side of the pool for sight of her.
He started in surprise as something brushed against his legs, catching sight of a quick movement in the corner of his eye. He turned towards it in time to see slender legs disappear behind him. He turned to his other side and saw her circling him slowly beneath the water, her body arching around his. He could feel the currents and eddies of her movements in the water around him, her hair swirling slowly like smoke around her, brushing against him when the motion of the water brought it against his skin. She disappeared behind him again, and he felt a warmth against the back of his legs a split second before her hands touched him, gliding carefully up his legs. He felt her body, scant millimetres away from touching his skin, the warmth bridging the miniscule gap between their bodies. He shuddered at the sheer sensual pleasure of the feather light touch. Her hands slid further up the back of his thighs, stroking gently against his buttocks before gliding up his back. He felt the warm caress of her breasts against his skin following behind her hands. Finally, she broke through the surface of the water almost silently, her hands resting on his shoulders. He felt the motion of her legs as she trod water to bring herself up to his level. Her skin was warm against his back, a delightful contrast to the freshness of the cool water.
She nipped at the back of his neck with sharp teeth, and he groaned, feeling the rising heat in his groin as his erection filled and lengthened at her touch.
"Don't give me the benefit of your education in the Classics," she whispered into his ear, her voice hoarse with lust. "No dryads, hamadryads, sirens, mermaids, nereids."
"Melusine?" he asked, with a grin.
She groaned, resting her forehead against his shoulder in mock frustration. "No mediaeval Romances either."
He pouted playfully. "You're no fun," he scolded.
"And you're too well educated," she retorted, moving around to face him. He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him, taking the slight weight left after the water buoyed her up.
"I seem to recall you always liked me telling you stories," he said.
She regarded him, warmth in her amethyst eyes. "You know I do," she breathed softly, an affectionate smile on her lips.
He leaned forward the short distance required to brush his lips against hers. "Then don't complain," he whispered, before taking her mouth in a sweet, soft kiss. They allowed the passion to build slowly, the tranquillity of their surroundings removing any need to rush this. The steady flow of the water was all the prompt they needed, pushing her body into his even as his arms tightened around her, pulling her into him. One hand swept down her back, cupping her buttocks gently and supporting her as he urged her legs around him with the other hand. Her skin was silken in the water, warm where she pressed against him. He stroked idly down one of the long legs wrapped around his hips, caressing lightly up her thigh, over her hip and the dip of her slender waist, before cupping the full breast pressing against his chest. He felt the weight of it in his hand, his fingers sliding underneath to hold it as his thumb brushed across the nipple. Her gasp was lost in their kiss, but she arched against him, hooking her ankles together around him to pull him even closer.
He explored her mouth as though he had never tasted her before. She was intoxicating, her mouth a warm velvet haven that welcomed and demanded in equal measure. Her tongue played with his, teasing and caressing, as though learning him anew with every touch. She urged him to deeper kisses, drinking him down like he was the only sustenance she needed. Breath mingled, sighs and gasps, until neither one could tell who made what sound. Nothing mattered in the world except the warm skin under their hands, the mouth against theirs, the heartbeat answering their own.
She couldn't do anything but press against him, trapped by the precariousness of her position. She rested her hands on his shoulders, restricted to stroking the strong column of his throat. He held her firm, and she knew she was safe, but she couldn't move except in the limited confines of his embrace else she would slide under the surface. His erection pressed hot and hard against her abdomen, and she felt the steady throbbing ache inside her as her body hungered for the completion only he could bring her. His hands were warm against her skin, stroking, holding, teasing. She pressed against him, the need inside her becoming a desperate overwhelming desire. She risked one hand against the back of his head, lacing her fingers in the wet golden hair.
He could taste her desire, feel the heat building between them, his own needs overwhelming any other senses. He reached down, his hand skimming down over her buttocks again before reaching between her legs, gently stroking against the heat he found there. She gasped, raising herself uncontrollably as he stroked her sensitive centre, before lowering herself again into his touch. His long fingers stroked the velvet skin, bringing soft moans and cries from her as she pressed harder against him, any remaining self-control lost in the exquisite torture of his touch.
He wanted to tease her for hours, wanted her screaming his name, begging for his touch, desperate for him. But his own desires were fast taking over, his cock throbbing hard and hot despite the cool water. The tightness in his groin felt almost painful. Ignoring her soft moan of complaint, he left teasing her to cup her buttocks in both hands, raising her slightly in order to allow him to position himself precisely, so that when he lowered her back into position, he slid slowly inside her hot slick centre.
The sensation of burying himself deep inside her made him break the kiss, burying his head in her neck as she threw her head back, a long anguished groan escaping from her lips at the feel of his heat piercing her. He raised her slightly again, before lowering her onto him once more, sliding himself completely inside her. He could feel her pulse against him, his cock throbbing to the rhythm of his own heart. He stood, lost in the feel of the tight grip around his cock, the subtle shifting of muscles deep inside her as she responded to his penetration. He gave a long ragged breath, pressing open mouthed kisses against her neck, feeling the pulse hammering in her throat under his lips. He followed the line of her neck, along her jaw, before finding her mouth again, sliding his tongue between her eager lips. The rhythm of the kiss drove the subtle movements of him against her, drawing himself in and out slowly, his strong hands holding her steady. The caress of the water against their skin gave extra stimulation, although their movements were barely perceptible, the water hardly stirring. The sensations inside them, however, were far stronger. Each stroke was deep and long, driving powerfully into her, while her legs around his hips pulled him against her, eagerly taking each thrust and begging for more.
"Fuck, Maggie," he breathed against her mouth. "If I come like this, we'll drown."
She laughed softly, her breathing just short rapid gasps as she felt her own orgasm building inexorably to completion. "You underestimate yourself, I think," she whispered hoarsely.
His face contorted into a look of exquisite torture, and she felt his hardness grow hotter, thrusting deeper as he lengthened even more. The added stimulus pushed her over the edge, the delicious friction spiralling into orgasm. She tightened around him, pulsing hard and rhythmically, her head thrown back to face the sky as her world centred around the throbbing heat burning her inside, her heart hammering as though desperate to burst free. Her whole body dissolved into sparkles of pleasure. Unable to control the sounds bursting from her mouth, her spasms driving the gasps and moans, she barely registered the hoarse cry of completion he gave, but the hard demanding thrust pushing up into her heart could not be ignored. He pulsed deep inside her, his cries building with each beat, before subsiding into soft gasps, as though almost shocked by the violence of his orgasm.
Satisfaction turned her limbs to lead, and she sagged against him bonelessly, feeling the hammering of his heart against hers, her own pulse loud in her ears. He staggered slightly, his knees quivering from the force of his orgasm rather than the weight of her. Slowly, unwillingly, they untangled limbs turned heavy from satiated pleasure. She slid one arm around his neck, content to stay in the confines of his embrace, safe in the knowledge he would not allow her to slide under the surface of the water. He steadied himself as his muscles began to obey him once more, gently urging her legs from around him before sweeping one arm beneath her knees, the other firm around her back as he cradled her in his arms. The water took most of her weight, leaving her a contented bundle of warmth against his chest. He nuzzled her face, coaxing her to move her head to allow him access to her mouth. When she obliged him, he kissed her gently, nibbling her lips and tracing the outline of her mouth with his tongue. Her serene sigh was a warm caress against his skin.
"I think I'm ready for that wine now." His words rumbled through his chest so she could feel them against her skin as well as hear them.
Carefully, he lowered her back into the water, only releasing her when he felt her take charge of her own buoyancy again. They swam slowly back to the shallows together. Once they reached the shore, he stood up, watching as she swam the short distance until she could put her own feet on firm ground. As they stepped out of the water, he reached for her, pulling her against him and pausing to kiss her again.
She shivered against him, the warm breeze only chill against their wet skin. He rubbed her arms firmly, trying to tease warmth into them before leading her back to the blanket. She knelt on the sun warmed wool, and he draped the towel around her shoulders before reaching into the bag to draw out his own towel. He dried his hair vigorously, wiping his face quickly before drawing the towel over the rest of him, removing the worst of the water. Sitting beside her on the blanket, he arranged the towel to form a pillow, then reached for the wine and glasses, handing one to her. She smiled as she accepted it, and watched as he poured the rich red liquid into the glasses.
"I hope you brought some food," he said at last.
"Of course," she replied with mock primness. "There's fruit, bread – stuff." She gestured vaguely to the basket.
He reached out a dark red apple, shining in the sunlight, and took a bite. Juice beaded his top lip as he chewed methodically on the sweet fruit. She sipped her wine, watching him with sleepy arousal in her eyes.
She sighed, stretching out on the blanket, the base of the wine glass against her stomach. The dark red liquid swirled, glinting ruby highlights in the sunlight. She closed her eyes with a satisfied smile, letting the warmth of the sun dry her.
He lay beside her, propped up on one arm as he ate the rest of the apple, regarding her with a kind of proprietary pride as his steel-blue gaze swept over her body. The jagged scars across her abdomen had their twin in his own reminders of Hong Kong, seared across his lean stomach. Somehow her scars affected him more, the thought of how she had obtained them far more painful to him than the way he had received his own scars.
He placed the apple core next to the basket neatly before turning back to her, removing the wine glass from her unresisting hand and placing it safe to one side. He lowered his head to her stomach, laying feather light kisses against the cruel scars as though he could remove them, reach back through history and eliminate the torture they represented. She sighed, a soft moan of contentment slipping past her lips at the intimate touch. He slid a hand against her thigh, stroking up the warm flesh slowly as his mouth travelled further up her body, making her shudder as his tongue traced the line between her rib cage before settling between her breasts. His trailing hand moved across her waist, stroking against her stomach before sliding up to cup her breast, bringing the already hardened nipple within reach of his mouth. She gasped as the wet warmth engulfed the nipple, his tongue dragging in a rough caress over the sensitised skin.
She reached out, finding the warm hardness of his chest against her hand before sliding over the sculpted muscles, fingertips light as a breeze as they traced each muscle delicately. He shuddered as her touch skimmed across the skin of his hip bone. She deliberately outlined the lean hip bone, eliciting a groan as he jerked uncontrollably, her touch almost tickling but certainly arousing. His mouth sought hers, his tongue invading her mouth, demanding her acquiescence. Her response was to trail her fingers through the silken curls of his groin, taking his hot erection in a firm grip that made him spasm, a gasp ripped from him, halting the assault on her mouth as his body stiffened, frozen by one simple grasp on his cock. His gasp turned to a groan, his body relaxing as her touch turned to a slow, deliberate stroke, pulling his foreskin back from his already weeping head and coaxing further hardness to his already fully erect cock.
He wanted her mouth, her breasts, her legs spread open and inviting for him. Everything he could take, everything she could give. And he would give her the world as he had given her his heart and soul so long ago.
Before he could move to his objectives, she pushed against him, forcing him back against the blanket. His attack turned against him, he found himself the willing recipient of her assault, her mouth demanding against his, her hand still working his cock slowly and firmly, her thumb passing over the tip to collect the moisture there and sweep it over the sensitive organ. His hips moved instinctively, not quite thrusting but pleading in their soft twitching. Her mouth left his, leaving him breathing heavily, slightly dazed by the lust pounding in his veins and the love burning in his heart. Her lips trailed down his chest, her tongue gently stroking and teasing. A gentle whimper escaped from him as she grazed her teeth against his nipple. She gave the hardened flesh a sharp nip, making him jerk and gasp, before she soothed the sensitive skin with a sweep of her tongue and carrying on further down his body. Her hands stroked feather-light, her nails catching and grazing gently against his skin, sugar and spice - teasing and tantalising.
He tensed as her warm breath caressed his hip bone, her tongue trailing against the sensitive skin. His cock throbbed, aching with need. He could feel the soft brush of her breast against his balls, her breath against his abdomen, and he tried to resist thrusting upwards in search of her mouth. Her breath stirred the hair of his groin and he groaned, biting down on his bottom lip hard, tasting blood.
She shifted slightly, and he suddenly felt the warm velvet of her tongue sliding along the length of his cock, root to tip, and he couldn't control the explosive burst of breath.
"Fuck!" he gasped, jerking upwards, his eyes closed as he lost himself to sensation. "Oh fuck."
He felt rather than heard her soft chuckle, then the world shattered into bright pieces of silver and diamond as her mouth wrapped around his cock, sliding down the length steadily and deliberately. Time stopped, lost all meaning. Nothing mattered but the warm wet heat of her mouth, and the way her tongue slid across the sensitive tip of his cock, his foreskin pulled all the way back as she teased and swirled against the skin, flicking against the ridge under the head. Soft moans and gasps escaped from his lips at each touch. He thought he would explode. He didn't care if he did.
Slight awareness returned to him, although he could still lose himself in the amazing feel of her mouth around him. He looked down to watch what she was doing to him, as though not quite able to believe the sensations were real. Her violet eyes were dark and smouldering with desire as she watched him.
The sight was more than he could stand. His eyes half-closed, his breathing harsh and ragged.
"Maggie," he said hoarsely. "I'm -"
But it was too late. He threw back his head, his orgasm ripping through him as he pulsed down her throat, the pleasure too much to bear. It seemed to last forever, each wrenching heartbeat ripping more from him, until he fell back against the ground, not quite convinced he could ever move again.
He was dimly aware of her moving against him, her warmth settling down against his side. He raised an arm to allow her to snuggle closer against him, wrapping his arm around her, his hand idly stroking the silken skin of her hip. She rested her head against his chest, her legs entwined with his, and gave a sigh of contentment that lightly caressed his skin. Impulsively, pulling together the last of his energy, he reached to tilt her head towards him and lowered his mouth to hers. He could taste himself in her kiss, reminding him of the intimacy, proving it had been real and not a fantasy.
Warm lethargic contentment spread through him. He left kissing her with a pang of regret, but the muscles required no longer wanted to obey, and he sank back to the ground, his eyes closing. A soft smile curled his lips without his conscious knowledge.
She settled back against his chest, inhaling his scent. He smelled of warm sunlight and subtle spice. She pressed her mouth against him, lightly dragging her tongue over the hard smooth flesh to taste the dark sweetness of his skin. His breathing deepened, slow and steady. She snuggled against him, content to lie in the security of his arms and drowse in the warm sunshine.
She didn't know how long they lay there before the light caress against her hip began to stroke with more deliberate intent. She gave a sound like a purr, a low growl of pleasure, as she shifted slightly against him. She smiled as she felt his other arm reach around her, and allowed him to push against her, laying her flat against the warm, slightly rough surface of the blanket. There was something primeval in surrendering to him, something natural and inevitable. She could submit to his maleness without compromising her pride, because bringing such desperate need to this powerful, controlled man gave her the true command over him. But in truth, it was her need feeding his, his lust driving hers. It was never about surrender or compromise, only about completion.
He kissed her slowly, taking his time to explore her mouth thoroughly. She threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him firm against her, although he had no intention of moving away. His skin was warm against her, and she arched upwards towards him, desperate for more of that strong solid heat against her. He resisted the temptation she offered, stroking down her side, eliciting a sharp intake of breath as she arched again at his touch. His feather-light caress carried on down her thigh. She shuddered against him, her mind empty of any thought except the awareness of his presence, his touch driving away any other consideration. Her breath shortened, brief hungry gasps against his mouth as she tried to beg him without words. She knew he understood when she felt his lips curl into a smile against hers, but he did not relent in the steady assault on her senses. Instead, he seemed to slow the pace down even more. A moan escaped her lips as his mouth left hers, half complaint, half pleasure as his lips found her throat, settling on the rapid pulse there and teasing the sensitive skin with sweeps of his tongue. His hand stroked back up her body, settling on her breast and kneading the firm flesh expertly. She pushed down against the ground, trying to arch against him, desperate for more contact, but he pressed her back down against the blanket.
"Shhhh," he soothed gently against her neck. "Slowly," he whispered.
She subsided with a whimper, trusting his decision, and felt his lips against her throat again. She gave a cry as his sharp teeth gripped her neck, feeling the delicious heat curling in her gut at the implied threat. He aroused her like no-one else ever had, because she knew she could trust him implicitly. He could threaten, play rough, tease and torment her, but she always knew he would never hurt her. Seducing her, arousing her, tempted him in equal measure.
He pulled her stiffened nipple firmly, soothing the sharp pleasurable pain with a gentle caress, before sliding his hand further down her body. His mouth left her throat, tasting the skin of her collar bone before travelling lower, sweeping over her breast and settling on her nipple. He grazed her with his teeth, his tongue flicking over the hardened flesh. She writhed beneath him, soft gasps and whimpers torn from her throat. Her eyes were closed, eyelids trembling with the effort of controlling her lust. Her pulse fluttered, sharp and almost painful in her throat. Her whole body felt alive, tingling and hypersensitive, confused by this sensuous, knowing teasing. She didn't know where she would feel his touch next, each stroke and caress taking her by surprise.
She bit her lip, a low hum reverberating in her throat, as his fingers brushed against her skin, travelling lower. She squirmed, rocking her hips in invitation, silently begging for more of his tormenting, torturous caresses. She jerked as he glided over her hip bones, stroking down the top of her thighs before slipping inside to slide against the sensitive skin. He nuzzled her breast, alternating between soft, tantalising brushes of his tongue and grazing of his teeth, and open mouthed kneading of the warm, firm flesh. She felt tied to the ground, unable to move except in subtle thrusts and writhing invitation. Light-headed, her breathing shallow and erratic, she felt oblivious to the sun, the breeze, the scratchy roughness of the wool against her back. She felt nothing but his touch, his breath, his warmth against her.
His questing fingers finally stroked the velvet skin between her thighs, and she though she would pass out from the sensation. He felt the hot wet evidence of her arousal slicking her entrance, urgent moans and spasms begging him to ease the throbbing, aching need inside her. He held her hardened nipple firmly between sharp teeth, adding the subtle pain to the pleasure of him sliding a long finger inside her. Her mouth fell open, the sensations overwhelming her. She couldn't tell what he was doing to her, didn't know anything except the exquisite burning tingling all over her body. When his thumb brushed over her sensitive bundle of nerve endings, adding to the expert invasion of her body by his curling fingers, she cried out. His slow building of sensations destroyed her, leaving her drowning in wave after wave of white-hot release. Each strong pulse of orgasm tore a sobbing cry from her throat. It felt as though her heart would burst from her chest, every muscle in her body suddenly locked into spasm. And still his relentless touch drew more and more pleasure from her.
Slowly, the tense muscles relaxed, her cries dying into soft whimpers and gasps as she tried to control her ragged breathing. Her heartbeat hammered loud in her ears. She was dimly aware of his touch leaving her, feeling an aching void where he had been, before he shifted further up her body, his mouth finding hers in a deep, languorous kiss. He kept his mouth on hers as he covered her body with his own, gently parting her thighs with his hips before teasing her still throbbing centre with his hard cock. She gave a groan, his hardened flesh hot against her, before opening her eyes in shock as he pierced her, filling her again. His steel-blue eyes were dark as he looked down at her, her eyes wide in surprise before fluttering as the feel of him deep inside her took over her universe. His body felt like warm honey against her, sweet and intoxicating, and she lost herself in the deep, thorough thrusts penetrating her.
"I love you," he breathed against her mouth, his movements growing harder, faster, as he felt her climax build again, gripping his cock so hard he could barely move. He laid kisses against her cheeks, her eyes, her hair – anywhere he could reach – before brushing against her mouth again. "I love you so much," he growled hoarsely.
He looked down into her face, seeing her violet eyes hazy and unfocused with love, her normally pale face flushed with passion. "I love you," he said again, unable to find any other words to punctuate the slide and thrust of him inside her.
Her mouth moved and closed as she tried to regain sufficient control to speak. "Mack," she stammered softly, her whisper little more than a gasping breath. "Oh God, Mack." Her eyelids fluttered again as she rocked her hips against him, her building orgasm threatening to explode. "I love you," she gasped. "Oh God – I love you."
Her final declaration was little more than a garbled cry as she threw her head back, her body throbbing and pulsing her release. The wild, urgent convulsions ripped his orgasm from him, his howl of release mingling with hers as they climaxed with violent thoroughness.
Consciousness returned slowly, unwillingly. He eased himself off her but kept her close to him, relishing the feel of her body along the length of his. She trembled in his arms, the violence of her climax leaving her shaking and weak.
He pressed his lips to her forehead. "This is heaven," he whispered softly.
Macklin awoke suddenly, aware of some subtle wrongness about the night. The curtains barely stirred, no breeze to move them on this hot summer night. He turned immediately to his side, expecting to see the small delicate body curled close to him, but found only empty bed. He frowned, immediately alert. In the darkness, he saw the folded piece of paper on top of her pillow. He sat up, reaching for the paper before flicking on the bedside light. By the amber glow, he read the words written in her familiar angular script.
"The pool. Come and help me find heaven again."
He smiled, turning off the bedside lamp as he left the bed. He padded on bare feet to the window, looking out over the silver and black landscape. The moon was full.
He followed the path to the pool, hearing the soft gurgle of the waterfall in the darkness as he carefully picked his way through the trees. He stopped underneath the last tree, looking out over the silvery moonlit waters.
She lay on the boulder beside the pool, naked and glowing in the moonlight. Her black hair fell across one shoulder, hiding one pert breast from view.
His breath caught in his throat at the serene, mystical beauty of the setting, the ethereal glow surrounding her body, and the knowing, welcoming smile curling her dark lips.
He stepped towards her, compelled by the unearthly picture, irresistible and alluring.
He didn't know what he'd done to deserve this; but surely this was heaven.
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