Wee! Chapter up! And I totally didn't think that this would be the romance chapter, but it just turned out like that. Oh well. I hope it's not too bad.
PrincessofRain: Hey, thanks.
Tiger Lily21: I know some people are sensitive, and I don't think that's a bad thing at all. It's actually kind of cool. Please, don't change! I love your stories, and they just wouldn't be the same if you were different (if that made any sense at all). I think that Heart's Desire is going to be a great story, and I don't mind that you're putting Jemima on hold. You notice that I only write one story at a time, else my head might explode.
monkeys-and-bananas76: Maybe. ((shifty eyes)) I'm glad you love it. You're story is really cute as well!
HolmesIsMyHomie: COMING RIGHT UP!
cokefizz-and-chocolate: Thank you very very much! When I first started out, I was having Tyrell and Warren being a bigger part of the story, but unfortunately, the sisters took up a lot of it, so I tried to cut down on characters a little bit.
awaiting impatient person: Oh, everyone knows it, but Jarrod and Fiona are far too stubborn to even hint at that to each other. Mmm. I love your randomness. :cD
Missyblue: Thank you!
letylyf: Oh, the agony! All the build up and then, bam. Cliff. I think a good love scene'll do them some good (in more ways than one!) I love camping. Ew for slugs. I remember being on a hike, and our guide telling us that if we're ever lost in the woods, we can eat slugs for nurishment (curse my spelling!) and all I could think of was I'd rather eat bark. Blerg.
panemonium: I love that movie so much! 'You lost yer arms in battle. but ye grew some nice boobs.' A little bit next chapter. It was only the three brothers and Warren.
always belle: Yay!
virgo-valentina:Really, you'd think they would have just told each other they love each other and live happily ever after by now, eh?
Sirenic Griffin: That's okay. I'm glad you're back. Thanks. Well, Tyrell isn't afraid to tell it as it is, while Jarrod would storm in silence, and Marcus would surround himself with other friends. Tyrell would make them come together and listen, but that doesn't mean he didn't fight with the others.
Akwyn: Ah! Curse you, spell-checker! How much have you ruined my life? Thank you for that. Unfortunately, the knocked error is my fault. I don't do archery much, so I don't really know that much about it.
wishingIcouldthinkofsomething: Thanks. :c) As I said before, I planned to make him a bigger character, but it was just getting to convoluted for my simple mind, so I cut him down a little. That would be harsh with Marcus and Belinda.
Lalaith: Cool. I was just wondering. No problem. I'm totally not offended if people skip the ending of this chapter, which is why made sure there was more to this chapter than that. And, you're right. We have a Prime Minister.
cinnamon: Thanks!
rootbeergirl19: We rob from the rich, and give to the poor, that's right!
rebeka13: Thanks. :c)
MissaLissa: Thanks so much! Oh, me too! I'm sorry if this isn't out before you're gone, but at least you'll have something to read when you get back.
Phillipa of the Phoenix: Thank you very much! Don't worry, it's more fluff than anything. Just replace thewhole scenewith 'They kissed,' and you'll probably have no problem with the rest of the story.
Glaze: Oh, I hope you didn't hurt yourself too badly! Belinda was a complete ho-bag. Did you like the Harry Potter? Apparently, it's a big shocker at the end (For everyone else reading this: no spoilers! although I already know the ending.) Yay!
Glitterpoison: I know a couple sets of siblings like that. Or else, they have two fighters and one peacemaker. You're right!
amelia: I think he's cute too! I love him in Princess Bride (except for that little pony tail thing he has going on)
Areida Rivers: I think squealing like a fangirl is a beautiful release, else all that bubbly stuff will probably go to your brain and cause a stroke, so don't be afraid to babble away! And, although most of the stuff in here is pure mush, the next chapter (which I'm about halfway done), is, in my humble opinion, a friggin awesome chapter. I can't wait to post it.
little miss tiny shoes: Yay! I'm excited to read your story. I know about this 'REAL LIFE' thing people keep talking about, but sometimes I'm able to ignore it for a while.
Okay guys, here it is.
HUGE FRIGGEN WARNING: THIS CHAPTER HAS A SEXUAL SCENE AT THE END. I WILL WARN YOU WHEN IT STARTS, BUT PLEASE, HAVE A SLIGHT SENSE OF MATURITY AND DON'T SPAM ME TO DEATH BECAUSE, HONESTLY, I'LLJUST IGNORE THEM/YOU. THANK YOU.
And thus. On to the story.
-Lulai
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Love
Jarrod put the letter away from him in disgust. It was really good, he knew that, Tyrell had done an excellent job. He had basically said 'no' to Tolaro's demands and proposed Protantia's options without insulting them at all. It was a gift of his.
But he couldn't read it in the mood he was in without wanting to add rude remarks and childish names.
It was all his fault too. He was an ass. And as typical, Fiona had called him on it. It was stupid to hold her to such an unfair double standard. He wanted her to think only of him, but he wasn't about to 'let go of his demons' for her.
For the first time in two years, he just wanted to hit something. He wanted to storm around the room, pulling books off the shelf, and make his study as unorganised and chaotic as his mind.
But he was the king now, and not seven years old, so he sat behind his desk and affixed his signature and his seal to the letter to Tolaro.
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He should probably go apologise, no matter how much he didn't want to. It was expected of him.
He folded the letter, and dropped some wax from the candle beside him onto the fold, then pressed the wax with his ring. He flipped the letter over and addressed it to the king of Tolaro.
Holding the letter in one hand, Jarrod crossed to the door, and motioned a servant forward.
"Give this to Jarvis in the messenger department," he instructed the young maid. "Tell him to deliver it as soon as possible."
"Aye, yer majesty," the maid said with a bow, and scurried off.
Jarrod debated about finding his wife, but turned back to his desk and the mound of paperwork on it. If he was a coward, then so be it.
He was interrupted a few hours later by a knock on the door. Frowning, he debated on letting whomever it was in, but finally sighed and called out, "Enter."
Tyrell entered, looking rather pleased with himself, which irritated Jarrod to no end.
"Yes?" Jarrod asked, giving his brother what he hoped was a superior look. He had just started to forget Fiona and her offer with his head in the finances, but now that he was distracted, she began to creep back into his mind.
"You've been locked in here for the morning and most of the afternoon," Tyrell responded. "I thought you might like some human company."
Jarrod was surprised. "Has it really been that long?" He remembered accepting the luncheon tray, but that didn't seem all that long ago. He checked watch. It was only about an hour to dinner.
"Yes. Your wife wanted to send in a rescue team, but I said that I'd come in and check on you."
"You've spoken with Fiona, then?" Jarrod asked, leaning back in his chair.
Tyrell nodded, assuming his usual sprawl in one of the chairs in front of the desk. "I have."
"And?" Jarrod prodded when he didn't continue.
"She asked about Marcus."
Jarrod closed his eyes. She would have. One thing he had learned about Fiona was that once she got her claws in an idea, not even the full force of the Protantian army would sway her.
"And I assume you told her everything?" Jarrod snapped, not opening his eyes. A surge of guilt swept through him. Tyrell couldn't tell her everything; Tyrell didn't even know his darkest secret.
"Not everything, but most of it." Tyrell paused, considering his words. "I believe she's coming to care for you," he said slowly. "I want the truth to come from you."
"I can't do that Tyrell," Jarrod said, opening his eyes to stare out the window. It had finally started raining, and the water distorted the glass, making the entire hillside and town seem like it was underwater. "I can't risk her leaving me."
"Take your head out of your ass, Jarrod," Tyrell snapped, causing Jarrod's attention to shift to him, surprised. "If you think that Fiona will leave you over a trivial thing you did in your past, then you don't know her at all."
Jarrod rose from his chair, bracing himself by his arms on the desk. "How can you call my problem 'trivial'? You don't even know what it is!"
A flicker of hurt passed behind his brother's eyes. "No. I don't."
Jarrod sighed and pinched his nose again. The pressure in his forehead was killing him. "I'm sorry Tyrell. I would like to tell you, I really would, but you wouldn't understand."
Tyrell nodded and rose. "Then talk to Fiona. Trust in her. I can assure you, you won't be disappointed."
Jarrod somehow swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I'm not worried about her disappointing me, I'm worried about disappointing her."
Tyrell gave him an enigmatic smile. "You'll never know until you tell her, will you?"
Tyrell turned, but paused right before he went through the door. "Just to warn you," he said with a grimace, "Rachel Fer Grenalda and her mother are here."
Jarrod groaned. Could the day possibly get any worse?
Rachel was an attractive woman, who didn't see her marriage to Percival in impediment to her relationships to half the men in the kingdom. Her latest goal seemed to be trying to get Jarrod into bed.
Unfortunately, her mother encouraged her behaviour, probably consoling herself with the thought that her unfaithful daughter deserved to be treated like a princess.
Jarrod couldn't stand the woman. Practically loathed her. And he was not looking forward to an encounter. Perhaps if he took the back way…
No such luck. Rachel seemed to be waiting to pounce, like a vulture over a dying cow.
"Good evening, your majesty," she oozed. She was dressed quite provocatively in a bright red and gold dress that was cut so low, he was sure a false move would cause her bosoms to fall out. Although, now that he thought about it, Rachel might not be above such a manoeuvre to attract a man.
"Good evening, my lady," he responded through slightly gritted teeth.
Fiona rounded the corner, fully intending on dragging Jarrod out of his room and into dinner so that they could discuss… stuff… like civilised people.As soon as she saw Jarrod and some other woman, however, she skidded to a stop and hid behind the corner.
She wasn't spying on Jarrod. She trusted him implicitly. It was that woman that had made fun of her that she didn't trust. The one with the pea soup dress. Although, today, she was wearing a huge red dress that was cut so low, she was surprised it stayed up.
"It's such a warm evening," the woman was saying, running her fingers over Jarrod's arm as Fiona poked her head around the corner. A sudden urge to scratch the woman's eyes out arose in Fiona. The depth of her anger surprised her. She wasn't usually the violent type.
Jarrod, to Fiona's relief, politely, but firmly took a step away from her hands, saying, "Actually, I've found it rather cool as of late."
The woman wasn't deterred. "I can think of a few ways we can keep warm," she practically purred.
Fiona's mouth dropped open. Jarrod had said the same sort of things to her, but they were married for Courts' sake! And so was the pea soup lady.
Apparently, Jarrod also remembered that fact. "Are you here to see Percival?"
She sniffed delicately. "Percival is always working. I did come to see him, but luckily, I bumped into you. Now I won't be so bored, and this trip won't be in vain."
Jarrod looked at the woman (what was her name?) with if not outright loathing, then at least active dislike. Fiona snorted quietly to herself. Jarrod would never be adulterous. Even if it was within his nature (which it wasn't), his own experiences with Belinda killed any notion of that. This woman was obviously dumber than a post.
"I'm afraid it will be, Lady Rachel," he said, his voice cool, as Fiona knew that he always took when he was trying to control his emotions, "as you see, I'm married now."
"Yes, and I've met your country bumpkin of a wife," Rachel said with a sneer. "She surely couldn't keep a man of your tastes… entertained."
"I can assure you that my tastes do not run to ageing wives with infidelity issues," Jarrod replied in his calm manner. Rachel took a step back, her eyes narrow.
"What does she have that I don't?" she pouted.
A conscious, Fiona thought silently. A sense of morality. A sense of fashion, for goodness' sake.
But Jarrod summed it up quite succinctly. "Me."
Fiona's heart started beating double, and she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face, or the warmth that flowed through her body.
Rachel looked at him in surprise. "You can't honestly like that mouse of a girl, can you?"
"Fiona is a beautiful, loyal, honest woman, a far cry from my present company. I am proud to call her my wife." Jarrod's voice took on a harder edge, trying to dispel Lady Pea Soup.
It wasn't a declaration of love, but Courts, it was the next best thing! Fiona leaned back against the wall, and had to refrain from clasping her hands to her breast in a besotted female pose.
Well, she had better go save her husband from any more of this painful encounter. She straightened her skirts and patted her hair, and walked around the corner.
"Oh, Jarrod! Lady Rachel," she said with a slight nod. "I think your husband is waiting for you in the front hall."
"Thank you, your majesty. Your majesty," she said with an angry bow to the both of them.
"What were you two talking about?" she asked, taking Jarrod's arm.
He gave her an odd look. "You seem to be in good spirits," he said, as they walked to the breakfast room.
She shrugged. "I've had a lot of time to think. I'd like to apologise for what happened this morning."
"No. It's me who should be apologising. I overreacted."
"And I stuck my nose in where it doesn't really belong," Fiona said with her lopsided grin. "How about we split the blame down the middle and call a truce? We were both a little wound up from the goings on last night."
"Of course," Jarrod said, interlocking his fingers with hers and running his lips over her knuckles.
"So what were you and Lady Rachel talking about?" she repeated her earlier question.
"You, actually," Jarrod replied, the corner of his mouth tucking up.
"Oh?" Fiona feigned ignorance. "Compliments, I hope."
"Can there be anything else with you?"
Fiona laughed. "Flatterer."
…
Fiona dismissed Elsie from her room after the maid had helped her strip out of her dress and into her nightgown. After the door clicked closed, Fiona burst out of her chair and began to pace. Her mind was far too busy to sit. She walked over to her bureau and pulled out a crystal brandy decanter. She toyed with the amber drink, then made up her mind, and took a swig of the liquid courage.
It burned all the way down to her stomach, and she nearly spluttered, but swallowed the bitter liquid. She'd need all the courage she could gather because tonight…
She was going to seduce her husband.
It was awful exciting, and more than a little scary. But Jarrod had said that he was proud of her, that he was proud to call her his wife. And she wanted to be his wife – his proper wife. Giving him her body was only the first step. He had already offered her his. She just hoped that he would be equally as generous when she offered him her heart.
There was absolutely no denying it anymore. She loved him. Loved, loved, loved him!
And for that reason, Fiona took another sip of brandy, then picked up the plate of fruit and cheese that she had sneaked into her room, and marched over to their conjoining door. She took a deep breath to try and slow her heart, then knocked on the door.
There was no answer.
She turned the knob and poked her head inside.
"Jarrod?" she called softly. She realised there was no one in the room. "Oh, bugger," she swore, stepping into the red and gold disaster that was her husband's chambers. She guessed she could wait for him. After dinner, he said that he only had a couple more bits of paperwork to file through before the end of the day.
She sat in front of the fireplace. It was lit, casting a warm glow over everything.
It was almost half an hour later before she heard motions outside. She straightened her appearance, and glanced morosely at the plate of food, of which only a quarter was left.
Her husband came in, talking quietly to his valet. Robertson nodded at something that Jarrod murmured at him, and left.
Jarrod took off his tan superfine coat, flinging it over a chair. His cravat had already been untied, probably while he was working. He pulled it off and threw it with the coat. He toed off his boots and was in the midst of taking off his shirt when Fiona interrupted him.
"Good evening, Jarrod," Fiona called out from her seat. Jarrod started at her voice, looking to her.
"What are you doing here?" he asked with a small smile, walking over to where she was sitting, redoing up his buttons.
She motioned the half-eaten plate of food. "I was going to share a late night snack with you, but I'm afraid I ate most of it."
He sat down beside her, and grabbed a small cube of cheese. "So, it's a snack for me, and a meal for you?" he teased, popping the cube into his mouth.
She laughed, and his heart filled with warmth.
"How is your court coming along?" Jarrod asked, selecting one of the few strawberries left behind.
Fiona hid a frown. She had half-expected him to guess her intentions and do… something. Play up their attraction. Offer some small innuendoes. Frankly, this talk of work was disappointing to say the least.
"It's marvellous," she said. She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I can't thank you enough."
He picked up her hand, and ran his lips over it. She was smiling so hard, her cheeks were starting to ache.
It was almost perfect. The only thing ruining the moment was the fact that her toes were starting to get cold. Freezing, in fact. She tucked one of them into the crook of her knee, but all that was doing was making her knee cold.
Glancing down at Fiona's awkward position, Jarrod raised an eyebrow at her. "Is something wrong?" he asked.
She gave him a sheepish grin. "My feet are cold."
Jarrod patted his thigh. "Put it here. I can try and rub some warmth into it."
Fiona hesitated, but the numbness in her toes and the brandy she had drunk had made her bold. She placed her foot in his lap.
"Oh!" she cried out involuntarily as his hands touched her chilled flesh. He was so warm! She put her hands behind her back and braced herself on them. Her skin was turning pleasantly pink under his ministrations and she could feel her toes again. She took her first foot off and put her second one up.
She could get used to this.
"Get used to what?" Jarrod asked, making Fiona realise that she had murmured her last thought out loud.
"This," Fiona sighed as Jarrod's hands slid up and began to massage her calf. It felt so good, and Fiona suddenly got the sneaking suspicion that she was being seduced, not the other way around.
As he rubbed her muscles, he told her stories of antics he and his brothers did when they were younger.
"You didn't!" she exclaimed as he told her about the time they dipped their governess' blonde tresses in ink.
"Oh yes," he said laughing. "Father was furious! Made us scrub the entire hall by ourselves."
Fiona laughed as well, which turned into a yawn. She tried to stifle it, but Jarrod saw and jumped to his feet. He pulled her to her feet as well.
"This has been great," Jarrod said, running a finger down her cheek, "but you should get to bed."
"What? But I'm not tired," Fiona protested.
"Then why are you yawning, darling?" he asked, smiling and chucking her under the chin.
Fiona frowned. This wasn't going as she had planned at all. There was only one way to remedy the solution. She leaned up and kissed him.
(A/N: Umm, it pretty much starts here, so just replaced the next part with 'They made love.' and you can hit the back button or the review button, or whatever button you'd like. Thank you for your cooperation.)
Jarrod hadn't been prepared for her sudden assault on his senses. Her mouth was smooth and soft, and she tasted of strawberries. He stood still, shocked for a moment, but then her hands went to his shoulder blades, and her tongue sneaked out to lick his lip.
He growled and leaned into her kiss. His hands snaked around her, grabbing her behind, pulling her tight against him. She gasped and groaned, one of her hands moving to the back of his neck, sliding up through the thick blond hair on the back of his head.
Her mouth opened up under his, and his tongue began to explore the sweet cavern. Her hands curled in his hair, holding him closer to her. He broke the kiss, pressing his lips up her jawline.
Her hands moved to her hair.
"Wait," he murmured, bringing his own hands up. This was the moment he had been dreaming about. He had to do this properly.
Fiona stayed silent as he slowly plucked all the pins from her hair until it fell out of its bun, curling slightly, down her back. He ran his fingers through it, some other pins falling to the floor softly, before throwing the rest beside them. A couple clattered as they hit the fruit plate, but Fiona didn't notice. She moaned as her scalp tingled from being in the tight bun for so long.
"I've been imagining doing this since I met you," he said huskily, running his fingers over her head, drawing the tresses to the front of her face. It was the perfect length, the beautiful russet waves curling slightly at ends, falling to just above her waist. "I've always wondered why you've kept it up."
"It keeps it out of my way," she said, her voice shaking slightly.
He gave her a slow look over, his gaze causing tingles that ran through her extremities. "Perhaps, but I think it's more for the protection of the other men."
"Surely, you mean protection from," she replied, confused.
He shook his head slowly, his brown eyes filled with warmth. "No, of." His voice dropped to a whisper and he dragged a lock of her hair over his lips. "I'd have to kill any man who saw you like this."
The shake in Fiona's voice went to her knees. "I haven't exactly been a magnet for male attraction," she protested softly, but his words made her insides glow with happiness.
"Which just goes to prove my point," Jarrod said with a lazy smile. "This," -he gave her hair a tug- "has been locked up in a bun since you were, what, sixteen?"
"Twelve," she whispered.
"It's a good thing," he said, smelling the lavender goodness that was her hair. "Someone would have snatched you up long ago. If you had let down your hair, you would have never been mine."
"It's just hair," Fiona said. She curled her hands in his shirt.
"You're right," Jarrod said, dropping her hair, and moving his hand to her jaw. "On anyone else, it wouldn't be nearly so intoxicating. It must be you." He drew her up to him, until his lips just touched hers. "Only you."
He kissed her until all her insides were liquid, and she was sure that she wouldn't be able to support herself any longer.
But suddenly he stopped. He stopped and cupped her face in his hands, gazing at her intently. She met his brown eyes with slightly worried look.
"What?" she whispered, her hands bunching themselves in his shirt nervously.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked softly, drawing his thumb across her cheek.
A slow smile crossed Fiona's face. "Absolutely," she said, and drew his head back down to hers.
"Oh good," he sighed, almost making Fiona giggle. It was such a strange feeling, this married love. He pushed her wrapper off her shoulders, and she compromised by dragging his shirt out of his pants.
Her breath caught in her throat as his large hands slid up her ribcage. He was making her silk nightgown slid against her skin, sending the most delicious tingles down her spine. She gasped his name into his mouth as his knuckles brushed the underside of her breasts.
Her fingers suddenly became less nimble, which was perfectly alright, considering she could barely think straight through the passionate haze in her mind.
"Off," she murmured, trying unsuccessfully to navigate Jarrod's buttons.
He chuckled and separated himself from her long enough to pull his shirt over his head and fling it to some corner of the room that Fiona didn't care to follow. She hummed appreciatively, resting her fingers lightly on the springy hairs of his chest. She wanted to follow the line of hair where it thickened and disappeared into the waistband of his pants.
Dangerous thoughts, she chided herself. But her entire train of thought collapsed when his hand stole over her breast, cupping the soft weight in his hand. She might as well have been naked for all the covering the thin nightgown gave her.
Why had she been denying herself this for so long? She gasped and her fingers dug into his shoulders as his thumb brushed over her taut nipple with enough audacity to assure her that her had done it purposely. His lips slid down her neck until they reached her collarbone. Nipping lightly at the protruding bone, he licked the hollow softly.
Fiona's hands moved up into his hair, the silky strands standing up between her fingers like rushes. She murmured something that vaguely resembled his name as his teeth caught the right sleeve of her nightgown and pulled it off her shoulder. His lips followed the silk, trailing kisses over the rounded ivory of her skin.
Jarrod was putting her senses on overload, and before she knew it, she felt a tugging on her hips and her nightgown lay in a pool at her feet.
"Beautiful," Jarrod said softly.
Fiona beamed, then realised she was absolutely, totally naked.
"Graaack!" Unfortunately, the first thing out of her mouth wasn't completely coherent.
Jarrod soon showed her the advantages of being naked. His lips slid over her shoulder, down to her breast. Fiona squeaked, then moaned as his lips closed over the hardened nipple. He held it in his teeth, flicking his tongue over the nub, causing sparks through her blood. He switched to the other breast, submitting it to the same glorious torture as the first. Fiona was gasping; her hands locked in Jarrod's flaxen locks, trying to keep standing on her badly shaking knees.
She almost collapsed, though, when Jarrod's hand slid up her thigh to cup her heat. Her thighs instinctively locked together. A husky groan tore itself from her throat as she pressed herself into his hand.
Then he touched her. He touched her so softly, so intimately, she was surprised she didn't just fly out of her skin.
"Oh, god, Jarrod," she cried, her fingers digging into his head. He smiled around her nipple, then removed his hand from her most private place. She moaned her disappointment.
He laid her down on the bed almost reverently, kissing her mouth, her cheeks, her jaw.
"Jarrod," she said softly, becoming slightly nervous now that they were horizontal. "I want to warn you."
He stopped kissing her long enough to give her a quizzical look. "Yes?"
She bit her lower lip. "I didn't actually have a wedding night talk with my sisters."
He smiled. "Is that all?" His smile stretched into a seductive grin. "I thought I was teaching you rather well."
To Fiona's horror, she found herself blushing. "Yes, but I don't want to do anything wrong." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I just want to please you."
His eyes darkened with passion. "Fiona, I don't think anything you can do will displease me." His lips claimed hers again, and she responded fully, arching into him and meeting his passion with fervour of her own.
With some difficulty, Jarrod managed to strip out of his remaining clothes, and position himself between his wife's legs. Her expression was wary, but trusting. His lips pressed into her temple, before sliding over her eyebrow. He wanted her so much, but he didn't want to frighten her.
He took a deep breath as he touched himself to her entrance. She was slick and ready for him, and he all he wanted to do was thrust into her and make her his.
"Holy… You're big," Fiona whispered to him.
He smiled. "Do you know that's what every man wishes to hear?"
"It does seem the sort of thing you men would brag about," she blurted out, "while comparing how many horses you have and the biggest buck you've ever killed, and generally being competitive for no reason." She bit her lip again, horrified at what she had said.
Jarrod couldn't help it. He began to laugh. His mirth echoed through the room and in Fiona's heart.
Still chuckling, he leaned down and touched noses with his wife, sighing, "Whatever did I do to deserve you?"
"Nothing, I hope," she replied.
"You hope?"
Fiona nibbled on the inside of her cheek. "It's just… if you did something to deserve me, then I must have done something to deserve you, and I can't think for the life of me of what that would be."
With a groan, Jarrod kissed her. He tried to express with his lips and his hands what his heart was feeling, what his mind was too scared to say. Fiona gave herself to him gratefully, her fingers sliding over the muscles of his back.
Fiona was sure she wouldn't be able to last much longer. The pressure was getting far too intense, and she was sure that it was only a matter of seconds before she burst into flames. Or evaporate completely. Or maybe just explode.
When he put himself against her, she was lost. She knew that when it was over, when she could again think and reason, she would be Fiona again, but right now, she was his. One sharp thrust, partly his, partly hers, and he was inside her, filling her so completely, she scarce dared to breathe.
"Oh, Jarrod," she gasped. "I don't want this to end."
"End?" he said huskily, a smile in his voice. "Darling, we've barely begun."
He began to move.
With a gasp, she began to move with him, her legs snaking around his hips, holding him to her. They weren't graceful; they didn't move as one, and the sounds from their mouths weren't musical or lovely. They moved with utter abandon, both trying to reach some distant goal, both driving the other one on.
Fiona was close; she knew it. She was riding on the edge of pain, her pleasure was so fierce. One hand was clutching his back, the other was grasping the sheets, the material fisted in her hand so hard her knuckles were white, her elbow locked. Her lip drew back in almost a snarl as she tried to fall over the edge, tried to achieve whatever release the pressure was building to.
Jarrod lifted her hips in his hands, and perhaps it changed the way he was rubbing her, or perhaps she had just reached her limit, for with a strangled cry, all her nerves shattered. She arched up to meet him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, as her fingers scraped down his back. She screamed into his flesh, half-begging for it to stop, half pleading for it to go on forever.
The feeling of her clenching around him was too much. He buried himself inside her, grunting harshly. They shook together in the final throws of their lovemaking, until they fell down to the bed, the only sounds their beating hearts and their heavy breathing.
Murmuring something about being too heavy for her, Jarrod moved over to one side of the bed. Fiona snuggled up to him, ignoring the fact that he was sweaty, and he laid his arm over her waist, drawing her closer.
"Well?" he murmured, brushing her damp bangs off her face.
"You have to ask?" Fiona asked, her voice languid.
"That's good," he said with a smile, pulling the covers up over them. "Why did you come to me tonight?"
"Wanted to," she said tiredly with a yawn, snuggling further into his chest.
Wanted to. The words echoed in his mind, and he couldn't help the tired grin that stretched across his face. His grip tightened on her, he was almost asleep when his wife spoke up.
"Mmm… Love you," she murmured.
I love you too, Jarrod thought suddenly. God help me, I love you too.