by Diana Castle
He licked her sex with the skill she now knew came from centuries of having done this to who knew how many women. But the thought of those other women he had loved down the centuries incited no jealously in her heart. He was with her now, and he loved her, and it didn’t matter how much time they had or didn’t have, All that mattered was this singular moment in time when he was hers and she was his.
He pulled away from her, his strong, beautiful body glistening with sweat, his heavy cock swinging between them. She saw in his eyes and the rigidity of his face how much he wanted her. Needed her.
“Touch me,” he whispered.
She reached down and took hold of his cock. It was thick and hard but the skin around it was soft and warm. She slowly rubbed it.
He bared his strong, white teeth. “Yes, sweet, that’s it. Harder. Harder.”
She moved her hand faster, using his pre-cum to lube the palm of her hand. She wanted him inside her so badly it was like a taste in her mouth, pungent and sweet.
Her hand still around his cock, she moved the other about his waist and onto his ass. She pressed him down towards her, guiding his cock to her sex. The silky smoothness of the head of his cock slid over the tender lips and chaffed her clit.
They groaned at the same time. Still firmly holding his cock she moved it against the entrance to her sex. Then she released him as he slowly entered her. Penetrating her fully, filling her entirely, possessing her completely.
Once he was sheathed inside her, he looked into her eyes. Then he lowered his head and kissed her, his lips slanting over hers as he pillaged her mouth with smoldering kisses. He began to thrust inside her, leisurely and deliberately. Their loins mashed together and the soft hairs of his pelvis ground deliciously against hers.
He took her without hurry and she writhed beneath him as he impaled his cock deeper. She gave herself utterly to her young-old lover.
“Yes, my darling, yes,” she cried. “Fuck me. Fuck me! Harder. Harder!”
He growled at her words and drove his cock deeper into her. She moaned, gripping his shoulders, her fingers digging into his skin. She looked up at his face, at the strong, sharply etched features set in lines of fiercest concentration as he strove to pleasure her.
She knew her climax was only seconds away, but she wanted to lie there forever, feeling his cock moving fiercely inside her. But she would not be able to hold back. And she didn’t want to.
She sharply arched her back and shattered, like fine glass breaking into a million glittering pieces. She cried out his name, over and over. He thrust harder into her at her cries, the sweat pouring off his chest and onto her breasts.
“Lydia,” he groaned. “Oh, God, Lydia!”
She felt his own climax come upon him, his seed jetting deep inside her. He twisted his cock within her and he kissed her so hard she knew he had bruised her lips, his tongue lunging, thrusting, and twisting inside her mouth.
But she didn’t care and as another orgasm violently claimed her, she held tightly onto him.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity of ecstasy, they lay still and silent in each other’s arms, their breaths slowly quieting. His neck and shoulders shone with perspiration and her own sweat dewed her skin. He pulled her close until her head was nestled against his shoulder.
“Tristan?”
“Yes?” he murmured, his hand stroking her arm.
“I’ll love you forever.” She knew that forever for her would only be a life span. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter.
He looked down at her, his beautiful eyes soft in the warm darkness.
“As will I, my sweet. Forever.”
Chapter Fourteen
A Year Later
Lydia slowly made her way up the path that wound around the hill. A warm breeze, fragrant with the scent of freshly turned earth and flowers, swept over her. Just to right left, a huge black-speckled rock pushed its way out of the ground. She waddled over to it and, with a satisfying grunt, sat down.
The rock certainly was not the most comfortable place for her to sit. But it gave her a place to rest for a moment. And she had a nice view from here of the Welsh countryside. From this vantage point she was able to see the village where Tristan had been born.
All those centuries ago.
And where their babies would be born.
Sighing contentedly, she looked down at her swollen belly, a wide smile stretching across her face. The doctor had promised the twins would be born in the next week or so.
Her lips curled wryly. He’d made that same promise at least three times this month.
She slowly slid her hand over her stomach. She had thought the walk would have set the twins to performing their routine bouts of gymnastics. However, since they had kept her awake half the night she supposed they were sleeping now.
She sighed again, happiness sweeping over her like the warm, lush waves of a tropical sea.
“Sweet, if you’re going to insist on taking these walks, I wish you’d stay closer to home.”
She looked over to where Tristan was striding up the hill towards her. The sun shone on his dark hair and, though his voice was gently chastising, his dark blue eyes were full of nothing but love.
She smiled as he drew closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go so far.”
He stopped in front of her. “I just worry that you might go into labor.”
“Ha. That’ll be the day.”
He laughed, knelt down and gently moved his hand over her bulging stomach. “Stubborn, aren’t they?”
She nodded. “Extremely. But I’ve waited this long. I can wait a little while longer.”
He lowered himself to the ground next to where she sat on the rock. “The arrangements have been made for your mother. She’ll arrive the day after tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
She still wasn’t sure how she felt about Carlotta coming to Wales. Although her mother had objected to Lydia marrying Tristan—she’d still been stubbornly convinced he was some kind of something horrible—but once she heard about Lydia’s pregnancy she at least stopped referring to him as that person.
Her mother still shared any news she received regarding Douglas’s baby, a sweet-faced little girl. (Carlotta had sent Lydia pictures of the baby.) But she’d never once brought up the fact that since Lydia had succeeded in becoming pregnant by Tristan that, perhaps, it was not she who had been incapable of having children but Douglas. If that were the case, that raised the specter as to whether Tiffany’s baby was really his child. Lydia had chosen to let the issue lie. Douglas and Tiffany were still married and their baby needed a father. That was all that mattered. At least as far as she was concerned.
She pushed aside thoughts of her mother’s impending visit. Then she smiled as she remembered that Saffron, along with Reeve, whom she was still seeing, were arriving tomorrow. At least she had that to look forward to.
Tristan adjusted himself and placed his head in her lap. She roughly pushed her fingers through his thick hair.
“Hmmm, I like that,” he murmured. “Feels like an invite for some hot. sweaty sex.”
She laughed then gasped. “Tristan!”
“What’s wrong? Have your pains started?” He was about to leap off the ground, but she stayed him with a hand on his arm.
“No. It’s not that. I’m fine.” She leaned closer to his head. “You have a gray hair.”
His eyes widened. “What? Really? Where?” He twisted his head about to see it.
She laughed. “You can’t see it, silly. It’s on top of your head.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t there before?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” She gently stroked the single gray hair. “You’re getting old, my love.”
He smiled at her. “The cure worked. But we suspected that when you became pregnant.” His smile widened into a boyish grin. “I’m getting old.”
Lydia couldn’t help returning his smile. but at the same time it saddened her to know that the man sh
e loved would, just as she, someday succumb to death. The idea that he would live on after she died had actually given her comfort.
He tenderly stroked her hand. “Don’t be sad, sweet. This is how it’s meant to be.” He leaned over and kissed her stomach. “Now I will live on the way I was supposed to. The way all men are meant to. Through their children.”
Lydia moved her fingers through his hair where lay that single strand of gray. The sign of his mortality. Of his death. And she smiled.
He rose from the ground and gently pulled her up. “Come now, Mrs. Drake. Let’s go home.” Desire flared in his eyes and she knew what he was wanting.
“The doctor said we could still be intimate,” she said, in answer to the heated question in his eyes. “If we’re careful, of course.”
He put his arms around her. “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful. And I do love taking you from behind. I can play with your breasts. They’ve gotten so big since you became pregnant.” He grinned, his dimples flaring. “And I never could resist a fair-bosomed lass.”
She laughed and playfully slapped him. “You’re nothing but a scoundrel.”
He slyly grinned. “That I am, sweet, and I’ve had centuries to practice at it.” He slipped his arm through hers and carefully helped her down the path towards their home.
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Other Books by Diana Castle
UNDER HIS HANDS
Book 1 of The Hot & Spicy West Series
TEMPTATION
Book 2 of The Hot & Spicy West Series
SILK
Volume I - Erotic Stories of Love and Lust
VELVET
Volume II - Erotic Stories of Domination and Submission
HER IMMORTAL LOVE
A Romantic Novel of Timeless Love
About the Author
Dark, delicious, romantic and, most of all, erotic. These are just some of the words that describe Diana Castle’s stories. She torches the pages with hot-blooded sex, inspiring romance and enticing fantasy. Her stories range from the past, the present and into the far-flung future. Dukes, pirates, cowboys; werewolves, captains of industry or of starships. She loves writing about them all. And all her stories share the same smoldering sensuality and rousing adventure.
Under the name Anna Black, her erotic short stories have appeared in anthologies published by Simon & Schuster, Cleis Press, Logical Lust, Blue Moon, and Running Press and edited by Zane, Alison Tyler, Cecilia Tan, Lori Perkins, Maxim Jakubowski and D.L. King
When Diana isn’t writing (which is pretty much all the time), she works part-time for the government, reads and collects tarot cards, watches old B&W movies from Hollywood’s Golden Age and enjoys reading whatever she can get her hot, little hands on.
Her favorite movies include Inception, The Artist, Serenity, Avatar and The Lord of the Rings trilogy. She’s a major science fiction/fantasy fan and loves attending conventions. If she had to choose which House she’d like to be from in the HBO series Game of Thrones, it would be House Targaryen. Love those dragons!
Connect with me online through my Website!
Copyright Page
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This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental..
Her Immortal Love
Copyright 2012 © Diana Castle
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