by Sofia Grey
He hesitated, glancing up at the sky for a moment. “I want to tell you something. I feel like a fish out of water here. Not just with it being so flat while I’m used to mountains, more that I feel like I don’t belong, like I’m an outsider. And I sense that you feel like that too.” He shrugged and then dropped back on the grass, one arm across his eyes. The silence grew and stretched between us while I marveled at his words, completely unsure what I could say. Yes, I don’t fit in because I’ve travelled back in time? Maybe not.
“Ignore me,” he muttered. “I’m just tired.”
He was tired because he’d spent a large part of the night looking after me during the air raid. Digging me out of the collapsed shelter. And he’d be flying again soon, fighting for our country, seeking out enemy aircraft that wanted to shoot down his plane. He was only twenty years old. It seemed an unfair weight of responsibility for one so young. In contrast, the most important thing I had to do was to submit my assignments on time.
I sat up and bent over Davy, tickling his chin with the rapidly wilting buttercup. Leaning down, I brushed my lips over his. His arm shifted, and his gray eyes stared up at me, hope blossoming.
“I want you to make love to me, Davy. I don’t want to wait.”
With one finger, I sketched lazy circles on his forearm, running through the short dark hairs down to his wrist. His smile grew, his free hand cupping around the back of my head, tugging me toward him. Rugged and strong, he was almost a different species to the men in my own time.
There it was, that instant connection as soon as our lips made contact. Closing my eyes, I opened my mouth to him and felt his eager tongue flicking against my lips as he pressed tiny kisses against my mouth from one corner to the other. He seemed content to just kiss me, one hand tangled with mine, the other caressing the back of my head. He tasted of apples, and I knew that every time I ate one again, I’d remember this day.
I gave myself completely to the experience, storing up the details to remember later. The heat of the sun warming my back, the buzzing of a nearby bee, the scent of the bluebells, a chirping from the birds overhead, and the softness of the crumpled grass beneath our blanket. Davy’s fingers meshed with mine, his hand stroking my hair, the sound of his heart beating. Rosie whickered nearby, her harness jingling.
I would never have this again. It wasn’t nearly enough.
Chapter Fourteen
He moved our linked hands to press against my breast. A soft groan escaped from him, the back of his hand smoothing along the curve and sweeping down again. I opened my eyes and locked my gaze with his to read his expression. Heat. Longing. Need. Those sharp cheekbones, the proud, strong chin. The little dimples that flashed when he smiled.
Davy closed his palm over my breast, and my entire body jerked, electricity flooding through me, sparking every neuron in my brain. God. I stared down and saw my nipple standing proud through my thin dress, tingling and screaming for attention. He gave a wicked smile and extended one finger to circle around the little bud. It was slow, unbearably slow. I burned for him to touch me again, to touch me there again.
Davy exhaled against my skin and moved up to steal another kiss, pressing deeper, his tongue seeking entrance. He tormented me. One hand against my breast, the thumb brushing past my nipple, then down again. I didn’t think. I just reacted. Grabbing his teasing hand, I closed it around my aching breast, securing it in place, enjoying the throaty rumble as he laughed against my skin.
His mouth dropped to my collarbone, and he nudged the dress to one side. Eager to feel more, I fumbled with my buttons. “Let me,” he breathed. He moved slowly. Each button took him an age. Each new inch of skin received a kiss.
Impatient to feel him against my flesh, I tried to help, but he refused to allow me. “Mine,” he whispered.
His hand stroked around my breast, raising the nipple for his kiss, his hot mouth setting fire to my skin. I bucked beneath him, feeling every nerve exploding, a surge of energy running in all directions. God, Christ, and all the saints. When his tongue laid claim, I shuddered, trembling and twitching and unable to control my body. A shock wave flashed outward, shot up to my brain, and another flash to my core, suddenly aching and heavy. Davy’s hand crept stealthily up the outside of my leg to pause at the knee, his fingers flirting higher. His mouth lifted, and I whimpered, only to feel him blow a soft breath across my burning flesh. I twisted, feeling as though I were on fire, a roaring, dense heat between my legs. It was a strange feeling of pressure, a pulling, tugging sensation I’d never known before. My lungs accelerated, and my heart raced.
Something tightened in the depths of my stomach, a coil winding in a spiral, with shivers running up and down my body. Restless, I moved my legs, shifted my arms, Davy’s mouth feverish against my breasts. It almost hurt, the pleasure so exquisite, I felt as if I were on a knife edge.
My eyes locked with Davy’s. I needed something, was desperate for it, if I only knew what. His hand moved higher, his fingers tiptoeing across my panties. Shocked, I drew a rapid breath. The heel of his hand rubbed and circled hard against my core. I writhed against him and felt a rush of unexpected moisture between my legs. I didn’t care about anything except the feel of his hand. A new pressure built inside me; I teetered as though on a precipice.
Davy’s hand was defining new boundaries, a new me, changing how I would view everything from this point on.
His clever fingers arrowed onto a single point where rational thought ceased to exist. I didn’t know—didn’t understand—what he touched, but I erupted. A thousand fireworks exploded in my brain, and my body jerked.
Pleasure wracked my body, each wave more intense, until they finally receded.
“Belle, oh Bella.” He released my lips and whispered against my throat, his hand now quiet between my legs. My lungs were bursting, my heart hammering, and my pulse erratic. I gulped in a calming breath.
Davy traced his lips along the edge of my jaw, and I relearned how to breathe, how to exist. I stared at him in awe. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t articulate the million questions in my head. His smile soothed me. Anchored me.
The promise of more pleasure to come.
His soft lips seared a trail down my throat and meandered down to my collarbone. The little dip at the base of my throat was subjected to a detailed nuzzling before his teeth nipped against my shoulder and bit gently in the tender hollow above my clavicle. His name escaped my mouth on a drawn out moan of pleasure.
“You like that?” A whisper.
“Yes, oh yes.” I found it difficult to speak.
“And this?” He gave a devilish nip to my earlobe.
I whimpered, shivers running up and down my spine as I tried to press closer to him. “This?” An open-mouthed kiss, his lips closed around one of my sensitive buds again. Speech was impossible. I clutched at him and grabbed his hair. I was drowning, the waves of excitement crashing over me and rendering me insensible.
I had to touch him, needed to feel his skin. I grabbed at his shirt and tore at his buttons to find the solid muscles beneath.
I stroked his chest in awe. So firm, strong, and handsome. He looked edible. I wanted to lick him all over, to savor him, to enjoy his body. Tentative, unsure where to start, I stroked my fingertips across one brown nipple. He whimpered, his back arching under my touch. I reached down and followed with my tongue, the merest flick. “Naughty,” he groaned, “that’s not playing fair.”
Before I could stop him, he’d flipped me over to lie on my back, gazing up at the canopy of trees while Davy rose above. He kneeled between my legs. My dress had already ridden up to mid-thigh. I’d never shown so much skin before. My recklessness excited me.
Diving for my mouth, he kissed me hard and then pulled back. His dimples flashed as he spoke, his voice warm with laughter. “You know what happens to naughty girls?”
Smiling broadly, I wondered what mischief he had in mind. “No.”
He plunged, one hand diving to my middle, and t
ickled. Deft fingers danced across to my side. I squirmed, helpless with laughter. He trailed down to the back of my knees, inside my elbows, across my stomach, and the soles of my feet. My sides were hurting with laughing, and I begged him to stop.
“Stop?” Bright eyes regarded me from where he held my foot. “Stop what?” He kissed inside my ankle. “Stop this?” His lips wandered up my calf, another kiss behind my knee. “Or this?”
I melted.
“God, Isabella. I think I’m in love with you.”
His hands stilled. I drew in a ragged breath, my heart racing as time seemed to stop. He cleared his throat and cupped my face, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs and resting his forehead against mine. It seemed a curiously intimate gesture. “Strike that.” I gazed into his eyes and saw love and honesty glowing back at me. “I am in love with you, cariad. I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
His brows drew together, thumbs still caressing my face. “It feels as though I’ve known you forever. And then last night, when the roof came in…I thought I’d lost you. And I knew.” A blush stole across his cheeks.
Inside, I wept. How could I leave him? How could I bear to let him go?
One tender hand brushed the curls away from my forehead, and he watched as they tumbled back into place. “I’ve only got four more ops to fly on this tour, and then I can ask to be reassigned. Something less dangerous.” One finger whispered across my lips, a gentle, fleeting touch. “We could be together. If you, ah, if you want that too.” It came out in a rush. My heart contracted. My lungs were robbed of air.
When I didn’t say anything straight away, he rushed in to fill the void. “I know that I’m going to survive this stupid war. And having found you, I have everything to live for.” His last urgent whisper wrenched another great hole in my chest.
I grabbed his head and pulled him toward me. “Kiss me, Davy. I love you too. More than anything.”
So Juliet said it hurt? Well shucks. A little pain was a tiny price to pay to love him. I’d consider chopping off my leg if it meant he would get to stay alive, to live a long and happy life. Even without me. I clung to him, kissing him back like a mad thing, crazy with need.
His shirt unbuttoned, I yanked it free to expose the hot, smooth skin underneath and a dark line of hair arrowing down his stomach, heading toward his penis. Driven by a curiosity I could never have imagined, I moved one hand, flattening it against the front of his trousers. He bucked at my touch. I felt a solid ridge beneath my palm, hot and pulsing. Davy’s eyes were half closed. He stared back at me from under black lashes, his mouth falling open as I rubbed my hand against him. “God, Belle…”
He fumbled with my dress, tugging it up and over my head, my camisole following. My breasts sat free and open in the afternoon sunshine. Davy gazed at them, an awed smile on his face. “You are so beautiful, cariad.” He touched the nipples one at a time with just the tip of his finger. I shivered, awash with sensations. Longing for his touch, dying for his mouth again. “I want to see all of you.”
I nodded. He gazed down at my stomach and traced a shape with his fingertip—a heart—before pressing a kiss in the center.
My silk panties were soft against my skin, but so were his fingers. He stroked the delicate fabric and played with the elastic at the top. “May I?” he whispered, and I nodded again.
I helped him to slide the panties down and wriggled out of them so he could look at me. I was naked. I felt shy. Vulnerable.
“Jesus, Belle. Are you sure about this?” His voice was full of wonder, his fingertips circling around the triangle of hair between my legs, my core exposed. One finger brushed through the moistness that had surged when we kissed, and Davy murmured, his voice soft. “So beautiful, you’re so wet. God, Isabella, I love you so much.” His inquisitive finger traced the sensitive little nub and probed gently inside me. I nearly leaped in the air, the sensation electrifying.
I moaned, unable to speak, and his smile broke my heart all over again. “That’s good, aye?” His Welsh lilt was more pronounced than ever.
I writhed on the blanket as his finger pushed deeper, slick and easy, followed by a second. I couldn’t hold back a groan. How had Juliet not liked this? Davy’s kiss became more urgent. I lay there panting, my insides twisting and churning, electricity humming through my veins as the spring in my belly tightened unbearably.
I clutched him to me. “Make love to me, Davy. Now.”
“Impatient.” He chuckled against my stomach. “What d’you think I’ve just been doing?”
“Are you always this argumentative?”
“I want to make it good for you. I’ll be careful. I won’t come inside you.”
I must have looked blank. He kissed me hard again before speaking, his voice hoarse. “I won’t get you pregnant.” Ah, that couldn’t happen, but he didn’t know that.
I fumbled with his buttons, shoving his trousers down to his hips, his underwear too. Feeling for his erection, I found the hard shaft with my fingers, and it reared at my touch, hot and ready. “Belle,” he murmured, nudging my legs farther apart, easing into position above me. There was a moment of anxiety as he sought my entrance and slipped just inside me, blunt and hard.
I swallowed and reached for him, needing his lips on mine. He obliged and devoured my mouth, urgent and demanding. His tongue burst into my mouth at the same time as he thrust hard inside me. A sharp, piercing pain flashed through me, and I yelped beneath his mouth, but then it eased, to leave a curious sense of fullness.
He held still, arms at either side of my head supporting his weight, giving my body a moment to come to terms with the intrusion. “Jesus, Belle.” He sounded in pain. “You’re so tight. I can’t tell you how good this feels.” Davy groaned and pushed inside even farther. Our hips were pressed together, his belly against mine. “Cariad, I love you, I love you.”
His lips claimed me again as he started to move, pulling back slowly and then forward, a gentle rocking movement that threatened to unhinge me. Pleasure had been redefined. My lungs tight, I dragged in a deep breath, my entire body on fire. Every nerve ending screamed; every inch of my skin ached for his touch. He bathed me in kisses, all the while keeping up the steady push-pull. I felt stretched inside, deliciously so. I could think of no place I’d rather be. His lips scorched my nipples, and I wailed, my head dropping back and spine arching. Speech was impossible.
I gasped and croaked his name as something changed between us. There was sudden urgency in his eyes, and he quickened his pace, the slow gliding replaced with a driving rhythm, Davy thrusting hard into me. Each stroke pressed against my core, the hot little nub that he’d found with his fingers. Each touch flashed like lightning through me, turning me from sensible, quiet Isabella to some strange, crazy girl grabbing at her lover and spiraling out of control, desire the only thing on her mind.
The tidal wave of pleasure that hit me this time was even more intense. I gave myself to the spasms that tore through me, unable to speak or breathe or even remember my own name.
I dragged in a shaky breath and heard Davy over the pounding of my heart. “Oh God, I can’t… Belle…” With an animal sound, he pulled out of me, and I felt hot splashes across my stomach. In a distant part of my mind, I knew what he was doing, remembered it from a book I’d read on reproductive systems. They’d never mentioned anything like this though, the feeling of closeness, of intimacy.
They’d never described what it felt like to fall in love.
Davy’s arms crumbled, and he collapsed to lie on top of me, heavy and warm, the perfect blanket. I closed my arms around him. I never wanted to let him go.
And as my wits returned, I started to figure out what I needed to do.
Chapter Fifteen
Back in the kitchens, as we worked the evening shift, Juliet’s sharp eyes honed in on the flash of white linen sticking out of my pocket.
“What’s that?”
My fingers closed around it. I felt reluctant to share Davy’s to
ken but knew she’d persist until I showed her. “It’s Davy’s handkerchief. He gave it to me as a keepsake.” I opened the snow-white square of fabric, the bold initials DJP embroidered in the corner. “David James Porteous.” I forestalled her next question. “He says it’s a family tradition to have James as a middle name.”
She fingered the initials and glanced at me, no doubt taking in my flushed appearance. “Did you give him something in return?”
My heart. “My hair ribbon.” He’d promised to keep it inside his flight suit.
Juliet nudged me gently with her elbow. “Mrs. Latham’s coming,” she hissed, tucking the handkerchief back into my pocket, out of sight.
Mrs. Latham beamed at us. “Our boys are going to be famous soon, when the film comes out.” She paused when we stayed silent. “Target for Tonight? They filmed it here at Mildenhall, that information film about a bombing raid over Germany. Didn’t you hear about it? Your lovely Davy and that charming Teddy were part of the supporting cast. We’re all on tenterhooks waiting to see how much they’re seen in the finished version.”
I mentally filed this away for future use, not really concentrating on her chatter. I needed to talk to Juliet in private. As soon as we had our break, I dragged Juliet back to our room, the only place I felt safe to talk.
“I need your help. I can’t let Davy die.”
She sat bolt upright on her bed, eyes huge in her face. I pressed on. “So as we work in the kitchens, I figured I could slip something into his food. Just enough to make him ill so he can’t fly.” She opened her mouth, but I spoke over her. “He’s only got four ops left. He might not have to finish them if he misses a couple.”
“Jesus, Bella. You can’t do that. You can’t mess with the timeline.”
“What if Teddy ate the same? If you could prevent them both from taking that fatal mission?” She started shaking her head, her mouth opening to protest, but I plowed on. “We can save them, Juliet.”