Rose(107)

Rose moaned softly. She rolled toward George, bringing her body into full contact with his. The feel of her against his whole length stretched George’s self-control to the limit. Using every bit of restraint he could muster to keep from throwing himself on her, he raised himself until he could kiss Rose’s closed eyelids. A kiss dropped on the tip of her nose, a more demanding kiss on her parted lips.

Rose moaned again and wiggled against him. Her mouth responded to his, and George deepened his kiss. Her arms wound themselves around his neck as she pushed her body hard against him. Her breasts, firm and full, pushed hard against his chest, their firming peaks burning his skin. Her scent filled his nostrils; the moisture of her skin mingled with his. The taste of her mouth invited him to ask for more.

George moaned. And not softly. It was the moan of a man deep in the toils of desire. Even as his tongue forced its way into Rose’s mouth, his hands slipped the straps over her shoulders and freed her breasts from the light restraint of her gown. With a growl of desire, he attacked one nipple with his hungry mouth, the other with his fingertips.

Rose’s response was instantaneous and dramatic. Her hands gripped his head and pressed him hard against her body.

Gripping the bed to keep from devouring her in a single gulp, George focused his mind on Rose’s breasts rather than his own need. He had waited so long he intended to go slowly, to savor every minute, every touch, every taste. To savor the sound of her gasp of shock when he took her firm nipple between his teeth. To savor her excitement as he teased her with his hot tongue.

When George realized he was more aware of his restraint than he was of the pleasure of exploring Rose’s body, he threw restraint to the winds. He would take his leisure some other time. Tonight he would explode if he had to wait another minute.

Rose helped him slip her gown down her body and under her hips. She seemed to be in more of a hurry than he was to remove all barriers between them.

She seemed unaware of her nakedness. He was aware of nothing else. He couldn’t get enough of her. His eyes, his lips, his fingertips, every part of him wanted to explore her body in frantic haste. All failed to do anything more than fan the flames that were even now lapping around the edge of his senses.

Driven by a desire which had been ignited on that day long ago when he first saw her in the Bon Ton, he quickly came out of his clothes and joined her on the bed.

“This may be uncomfortable at first,” he said as he parted her thighs.

Rose’s body relaxed, welcoming him. She arched off the bed as his fingers sank into her moist heat. Moan after soft moan escaped her lips as he plunged inside her, preparing her for his entry. He should have waited longer, should have taken more time to be sure she could accommodate him, but when she threw herself against him, he lost all ability to wait.

“This will hurt, but only for a moment,” George said as he poised himself above Rose.

Then he claimed her. The way men have claimed their women since time began. With their bodies. With their minds. And with their souls.

It took every bit of restraint he possessed to ease into her body rather than plunge in. Rose practiced none of his control. Even as he prepared himself to break through her virgin’s sheath, she threw herself against him, forcing him deep into her.

George abandoned control. Riding the bucking of his desire with wild abandon, he drove straight toward fulfillment. He only slowed his rhythm so that Rose could keep pace.

But as he felt the wave of sweet agony begin to swirl higher and higher around him, he rushed ahead, bringing them both to a shattering release of the tension which had held them in bondage for so long.

They lay side by side for some time. Neither of them spoke. As his senses returned to normal, George found it hard to believe he had just made love to his wife. But he only had to turn his head or reach out to discover that Rose was really there, warm and inviting.

The feeling of contentment had returned. He could feel it spread over him like a comforting blanket. If he’d had any doubts that he’d done the right thing, he had them no longer.

It was the first feeling of true peace he could remember experiencing in his whole life.





George woke with the first rays of sunlight.

His gaze fell on Rose. She lay facing him, her eyes closed in sleep. He slowly raised his head and rolled up on his elbow so he could get a better look. He didn’t know how it was possible, but she looked even more lovely in sleep. Her slightly disordered appearance provided just the right feeling. As if nothing in the world could threaten her rest.

But something disturbed George’s repose. Rose’s nearness. She was only inches away, one arm across her body. His lips were a mere breath away from hers, her barely clad breasts, the alabaster perfection of her neck and bare shoulders.