by Sara Wood
‘That’s a n-nice thing to s-say.’
‘Just the truth,’ he breathed into her hair. ‘Perhaps now you can be yourself. Be free.’
The thought comforted her. She could start again. Despite her anguish, she felt an uplifting feeling. ‘Can we walk?’ she mumbled.
‘Whatever you like, whatever you need. Hold my hand, you’re shaking,’ he said softly.
With infinite care, he helped her over a ladder stile and into the field beyond. For a long time they strolled quietly with just the plaintive cry of the lapwings eerily breaking the silence.
They found a sheltered spot to sit. They gazed at the view from high above the strip lynchets, the terraced fields which had been hacked out of the hillside centuries ago, even long before the Black Death in the fourteenth century which must have parted so many loved ones.
The wind ruffled her hair and brought sharp colour to her cheeks. This was her beloved Yorkshire. The place where her mother and father had fallen in love and where they had died. And she would do anything to stay here for the rest of her days on earth.
His hand gripped hers tightly. His eyes were like liquid velvet and she felt more cherished than she had in the whole of her life.
And for no reason at all, her tears suddenly cascaded down her face in torrents.
‘Laura, Laura!’ he whispered, turning her to him.
His lips touched her cheekbone then travelled around her face stopping each tear that fell. She felt a desperate need to be comforted by him, to lose herself in his kisses.
Lifting her mouth, she caught his face between her hands and let her eyes do the asking.
‘Kiss me properly,’ she moaned.
Cassian stared helplessly. ‘Don’t mistake what you’re feeling,’ he rasped. ‘You’re—’
‘I want to be kissed!’ she insisted.
‘Because you want to be comforted.’ He sounded bitter and his teeth were clenched together hard. ‘I’ll hold you, but I won’t do more—’
‘Why?’ she demanded, shuddering with intense fervour.
‘You’d regret it later, when you’re not so distraught—’
‘I won’t!’ she whispered, adoring his mouth, the smoothness of his face beneath her fingers.
Desperate to lose herself in his lovemaking, she explored his mouth with a thoroughness that shook her. She laced her fingers through his hair, subtly trapping him, her body pressing hard against his.
It was wonderful when he responded, a groan preceding his impassioned surrender to her wiles. They couldn’t get enough of each other, their hands clutching, roaming, invading…
She was caught up in the intensity of her feelings, her mind closed to all but the sensations surging through her frantic body, everything centred on the need to touch Cassian, to be touched…loved, not to miss a moment of life and happiness.
If she loved him, and she did, she wasn’t going to waste time being coy. She’d take what she wanted, be what she wanted, obey the call for love that was overriding everything else in her mind and body.
She was crying and gasping, moaning and panting just like him. His hands wove magic spells in her body, every part of her seemingly set alight by his caress.
Each breast quivered, bloomed, tightened unbearably from the gently erotic movement of his questing fingers. The heat of his loins burned into her till she thought she must have reached melting point.
At some time they must have sunk back to the ground. Here, her arms demanded, legs slithered urgently, pelvis arched in throbbing hunger. She was dimly aware that her mouth knew now every inch of his face and throat, the hard satin of his chest, the hollows of his stomach.
Her clothes had largely disappeared, like his, though when he—or she—had removed them she couldn’t have said. Her desperation matched his. Her desire to kiss and touch every inch of him was echoed by his unstoppable ravishment.
The surface of her skin felt hot and tingling as if it had been electrified. Each of Cassian’s fierce, impetuous kisses stirred her very blood and pushed her to a more intense state of excitement.
‘I can’t bear it!’ she whispered, seeking without success to undo his belt.
She felt him kick away her skirt, and, unhampered, she wound her legs about him so that she could drive her pelvis harder into his body and ease some of the terrible need within her.
His mouth swooped on hers, enclosing, warm and almost frantic in its kisses. The pressure of his hand cupped around the cleft between her legs and even through her small cotton briefs she could feel the heat, the glorious movement of the heel of his hand. And then, with a wriggle, she had ensured he touched her flesh.
‘Ohhhhh…’
‘Laura!’ he croaked.
Her loving hand stroked his face, her eyes anxiously encouraging him.
‘Please,’ she whispered.
‘I—this is not right…I—’
‘I need you, Cassian!’ she rasped. And touched him.
His eyes closed as he did battle with himself. Gently she moved her hand, feeling the leap of power beneath her fingers.
‘No, no, no…’ he moaned.
‘You told me to live!’ she whispered, slipping her tongue between his lips. ‘I am living. This is what I want. Love me. Love me!’ she moaned into his mouth.
She mimicked the act of making love, her own body so aroused that she wondered how it could still obey her. But then she was operating on instinct. And love.
Cassian tore his mouth away, his face strained. ‘But afterwards—’
‘Forget afterwards. This is now,’ she said fiercely.
She took his hand, let his fingers meet the throbbing bud between her legs and uttered a long, low moan of pleasure. This was what she’d longed for. Physical release with the man she loved.
The ecstasy in her body was nothing to the joy in her head, her heart and her soul. Cassian would possess her. She would know him and he would know her. If she died tomorrow, she would have been a part of him.
He could feel her mouth bruising his. Heard the little gasps and moans, the outrush of her sweet breath as he rhythmically caressed her. The beauty of her body had stunned him.
The soft mounds of her breasts met his mouth and her nipples rose obediently to his gentle suckling as she bucked and shuddered beneath his arousing fingers.
Too far…he’d gone too far to step back. It terrified him, this sensation of losing total control, of being unable to master his passion. What had she woken in him? he thought, slipping further from reality, mesmerised by the alluring Laura, by her sublime eyes, her hungry mouth and fabulous, irresistible body.
Quite helpless, driven by something he didn’t understand, he clawed at his belt and managed by accident rather than luck to undo it. In a moment they were both naked. Flesh to flesh. He trembled, intoxicated by the sensation.
‘Are…’ He tried again, swallowing back the choking emotion. Pausing only briefly to wonder what was happening to him. ‘Are…you…sure?’
There was a beauty about her face, as it swam beneath him, that made his heart turn over. Her dreamy smile dazzled him, leaving him blind.
‘Sure,’ she breathed. ‘More sure than I’ve ever been.’
A volcano was threatening to burst inside him but he caressed her gently, taking his time till her pleas were so loud and insistent that he knew she was more than ready.
A sense of wonder flooded his mind as he gently eased into her, their bodies sliding so naturally together that they had surely been made for one another.
And then his world exploded. All he knew was that something unbelievable was occurring, a scattering of his senses and a fierce high voltage arousal of every cell in his body.
A storm erupted in his head. Sweet torment surrounded every nerve, tugging and caressing, thrilling and teasing until he didn’t know where he was or what he was doing…only that this was lovemaking at its most awe-inspiring and this was love with Laura and he never wanted it to end…
The pounding in
his ears blotted out her cries—or were they his?—and his body erupted in a wild release of joy and pleasure. Warmth flooded him. And a deep, intense peace.
Her hands moved lazily over his back. Still in a state of disbelief, she smiled to herself. This was why people became obsessed with one another, then! Her heart was soaring. As free as that bird she could see high up in the sky…a lark, surely?
Now she fully understood her mother. When you found true love and a passion that matched your own, it was hard to deny. She was so happy. Madly, hugely, ferociously!
‘Cassian,’ she whispered into his ear.
‘Mmm.’
She wound her arms around his neck. He lifted his head which had been buried in her neck and looked at her as if he was drunk. Her eyes shone, her adoration plain for him to see.
‘Is it…always like that!’ she asked, not sure if she could physically bear such sweet torment too often.
He kissed her soft mouth. ‘Hardly ever,’ he said wryly. ‘What did you do, Laura? Drug me?’
She laughed and kissed him back. No. She’d only loved him. Given him everything. ‘Good, was I?’ she asked smugly.
His eyes darkened till they were like glittering black onyx.
‘Sensational,’ he growled.
She was going under again; the desire flaring up from the igniting of his body moving over hers. Her eyes closed, all the better to enjoy the unbearably slow, rhythmical strokes inside her and the delicious sensations chasing on and in and through each part of her.
‘Cassian,’ she murmured and slithered sensually against him, provoking him with her body, biting him, enjoying the tension of his muscles under her sensitive hands.
‘Sweet Laura,’ he said hoarsely, kissing her throat.
The little stabs of energy began to thrust at her and she let them take her over, revelling that she could abandon herself without fear. She trusted Cassian. And so she could dare to behave freely.
‘’Swunnerful,’ she slurred, clinging to him.
He flipped her over, hauled her up, cupped her heavy breasts in awe and flicked his tongue over each engorged nipple. Then his hands pressed on her hips till she felt the deepest, most incredible completion of herself.
And she began to move, watching his face, seeing the infinite pleasure she could give him, aroused beyond belief by the blissful expression on his beloved face.
The climax came hot and fast, rushing up to take her unawares. It shot her up to a pinaccle of sensation and then slowly released her, till she found herself safe and warm in the welcome of Cassian’s strong arms.
It was a while before he dressed her. Tired and bemused, she let him do so, offering a leg or an arm like a docile child. She was far to ‘high’ to do anything for herself.
This was emotion—and she loved it, she mused, as his handsome face contorted with a frown while he tried to manoeuvre her skirt over her hips. With a sigh, she lifted her pelvis. Their eyes locked. Hot passion spilled between them, Cassian kissed her, hard.
‘I can’t leave you alone!’ he muttered.
‘Good,’ she crowed.
‘No, it’s not…’
‘Why?’ She lifted her arms over head, intentionally provocative.
‘Please, Laura!’ he groaned. ‘We have to get back. Harrogate’s off, but you’ll need to be home for Adam.’
‘Is it that late?’ she said in stunned surprise.
‘We seem to have missed lunch,’ he said, amused.
‘No, we didn’t!’ she laughed and he kissed her tenderly.
In a daze they stumbled back to the car. Laura paused for a moment in the lane, trying to visualise her mother as someone alive and vital and very much in love, very loved, chattering happily as her lover drove her and their baby to Killington Manor.
Her mother would have been happy. As happy as she, Laura, was now. A long sigh escaped her parted lips. Today she had found great sorrow and great joy. This, she vowed, would be a relationship that would survive.
‘Do you want to be alone?’ Cassian asked with typical tact.
They were holding hands and she gave his a quick squeeze of thanks.
‘No.’ She didn’t ever want to be alone again. ‘Thank you for bringing me here. Let’s go home,’ she said, deeply content.
‘Tom has told me where your parents’ graves are,’ Cassian said quietly. ‘I’ll take you there. And I think Adam should come too.’
She was overcome with gratitude. ‘Thank you,’ she said again.
They met Adam from school and took him to the small churchyard in a small village beyond Killington Manor, close to the river. Gently Laura told him about his grandparents while Cassian checked the gravestones.
‘Here,’ he said, holding out his hands to them.
Laura’s heart pounded. She swallowed and gripped Adam’s small hand in hers. Cassian enfolded them both in his arms, shepherding them towards a small, nondescript stone above an untended grave.
‘I can’t read it!’ she mumbled, her eyes awash.
‘It says…“Here lie Jack Eden and Diana Morris”,’ Cassian said huskily. ‘Then there are the dates…and below it is written; “tragically taken from this world but together in the next.” Tom Walker had that stone put up,’ he told Laura. ‘There was a scandal because George and Enid wouldn’t pay for the funeral but those who worked at Killington had a whip-round for it. The house was sold and incorporated into your father’s estate. Since your father hadn’t changed his will, everything went to some distant cousin in New York. Tom was upset that you had nothing. He has watched over you ever since.’
‘People are so kind!’ she said shakily. ‘I don’t mind about the money. I have so much, compared with others.’
‘Don’t cry, Mum!’ begged Adam.
She hugged him hard. ‘I’m sad and I’m happy. Do you understand, darling?’
His big blue eyes softened. ‘Yes, I do, Mum. I’m sorry they’re dead. I’d have liked grandparents. But I’m glad they didn’t abandon you.’ His skinny arms wrapped tightly around her. ‘I love you, Mum,’ he said fiercely. ‘Everything’ll be all right now.’
She smiled and met Cassian’s infinitely tender eyes. ‘Yes,’ she breathed, kissing her son’s fair head. ‘I think it will.’
That evening, when supper and the run and homework were all dealt with, all three of them sat on the sofa together and talked. And when Adam had gone sleepily up to bed, she curled up in Cassian’s arms watching a documentary on TV.
Occasionally he kissed her. But most of the time it was enough that they were close. He was wonderful, she thought happily. And he seemed compelled to touch her. Not sexually, but just small touches; a stroke of her hand, the brush of his fingers down the side of her cheek, the increased pressure of his arm around her waist for no particular reason.
In her book, that meant one thing. Whether he knew it or not, he was rapidly finding he couldn’t do without her. She hoped that was true. All her hopes were pinned on that fact.
‘I wish I could take you to bed,’ he growled in her ear.
‘Well, you can’t,’ she said, secretly delighted with his regret.
‘I know. It’s torture. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms, to wake and find you beside me.’
‘Me, too!’ she whispered, overjoyed that he wanted her presence as much as she wanted his.
‘I’ll take you to the office tomorrow,’ he rasped. ‘And I will make love to you as you’ve never known it before.’ Abruptly he stood up. ‘I must go now, Laura,’ he said, desperately running his hands through his hair. ‘See you in the morning.’
She couldn’t believe it. He needed her very badly. And everything he said suggested that it wasn’t just sex but something deeper. Hopefully more lasting.
Walking on air, she floated off to bed and fell into a contented sleep the moment her head touched the pillow.
CHAPTER TEN
‘THE blue or the green?’ she asked the next morning in the Harrogate office, waving silky scr
aps of froth, which were masquerading as panties.
‘Breen. Glue…Laura!’ groaned Cassian, when she gurgled in delight at his confusion. ‘My brain doesn’t work when you prance around like that.’
‘Like what?’ She pranced. Tried a little modified lap dancing.
Naked and menacing, Cassian growled alarmingly and came straight for her. She squealed and dashed around the buttonback sofa. But not too fast.
‘Temptress,’ he muttered, catching her and covering her with kisses.
He bent her backwards, Silent Picture Style, and she fluttered her lashes at him, making Silent Picture Faces at him.
‘I think I’m going to like coming here,’ she said smugly.
‘You won’t get sex every time, you know,’ Cassian said with a grin.
‘Shame! I suppose I’d better get dressed.’ Her eyes sparkled, a deep and intense blue. ‘Have another glass of celebratory champagne while I shower. Then I’m handing out money to people who deserve it,’ she said happily.
‘You think you have everything you need?’ he enquired.
She paused, her eyes glazing over. He was gorgeous. Standing there absolutely naked, totally masculine and unbelievably thoughtful. His hair was tousled, eyes drugged whenever he looked at her, body…quite breathtakingly beautiful. What more could a woman want?
Yes. She had everything.
‘It’s all perfect,’ she said with a sigh.
Glowing with love, she cast her eyes about her. The offices were gorgeous too. High ceilinged and with the lovely proportions of a typical Georgian mansion, they had been tastefully decorated and fitted out so that the overall effect was that of a comfortable high class home rather than a business empire.
They were in the interview room, having made the best use of the deep cream carpet she could ever have imagined. Their clothes were strewn everywhere. The results of their shopping—wicked and seductive lingerie and two more outfits for her, plus clothes for Adam and small decorative touches to make the office more friendly—were heaped on the comfortable sofas.
When she was ready, she was to employ someone to open mail and to deal with her correspondence. Until then, she could settle in at her own pace. It seemed too good to be true. But it was real enough. She’d seen the letters asking for help and was anxious to get started.