"Lydia, you really thought you made me unhappy?"
She nodded, and tears filled her luminous eyes, tearing at his heart. She was still an innocent. Still so good and pure and forgiving. And she always would be. His desire for her couldn't sully her pure heart. And her desire for him—his body responded at the thought—her own desire, only made her more beautiful, more desirable.
He shook his head, more in wonder than in denial. "There's nothing wrong with you. You're beautiful. Your body's beautiful. Just thinking about it drives me crazy. I've been wild for you since the first time I saw you."
Her eyes darkened. He closed his mouth over her slightly parted lips. He kissed her with an intensity that warmed her, seared her, melted her. He slanted his head and changed the pressure with which he coaxed her mouth. She opened her lips, accepting the velvety caress of his tongue against hers. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her upward until they stood, their mouths separating.
Boldly Lydia placed her hands on his shirtfront and measured the rapid beating of his heart. Tenderly he again covered her lips with his, gathering her closer in his arms. She raised her fingertips to touch his lean cheek, and felt the widening of his jaw as his mouth opened over hers. His tongue probed the inside of her mouth, tampering with sensations she hadn't known she could feel. He'd kissed her before, but he'd never kissed her like this!
Since that first enlightening kiss in the pasture, there had been tender kisses, sweet kisses, and a few warmer, more imaginative kisses. But this... this all-consuming, hungry, unsatisfying... This was what she'd yearned for, yet with it, he created an even greater wanting.
He dragged his lips from hers, dotted damp kisses across her chin and throat. Warmth suffused her body in a liquid outpouring. "Jakob?"
He murmured an unintelligible reply against her ear.
"Touch me."
Jakob's lips rested against her earlobe, and his breath fanned her neck. With deliberate slowness, he turned her away from him and unbuttoned her dress. It pooled at her ankles, and he turned her to face him. Tugging at the satin ribbon on her chemise, he lowered the fabric, exposing the creamy skin of her upper chest.
Through the soft material, he cupped her breast and lifted it until it swelled above the fabric. He lowered his head and kissed the skin that was revealed. Her breath caught in her throat, then escaped in a shuddering exhalation. His tongue, hot and wet, aroused her every nerve ending, and she buried her hand in his thick hair.
Without leaving her breast, he slid her chemise to her waist and unlaced her muslin drawers. Her garments fell to the floor. The lantern cast a soft glow across her skin and hair. Jakob removed her shoes, and slid her stockings down her legs.
She stood before him. His gaze darkened with desire at the sight of her bare form; his reaction was a heady delight. Reaching for his shirt, she unbuttoned it. Jerking it aside impatiently, he slid his fingers into her hair. Pins dropped on the floor around them. Raking his fingers through the tresses, he spread them across her shoulders. Through the silky veil, he caressed her.
"I love your hair, Lydia."
"Jakob, I am sorry."
"Don't be. It will grow."
"I only wanted to please you. I thought if I looked like the ladies in Pittsburgh—"
He groaned, and molded the shape of her breast. "I don't care a straw about the ladies in Pittsburgh. I want you just the way you are."
She arched her throat to his lips.
"Ah, Lydia..." His tongue touched her skin, drawing a sharp breath from her.
That was the way she wanted to hear him say her name—as a lover's song of praise, a whispered chant of adoration. Her eyes closed. She shuddered. "Ja, mir gefallt... sehr gut, Mann."
"You like this?" he attempted to translate.
"Ja."
"Mir gefallt sehr gut, Weib."
She smiled through giddy tears. "You're a fast learner."
He yanked the coverlet off the end of the bed, and raised the sheet, urging her beneath. "Do you want the lantern out?"
Her gaze lingered on his broad chest. "Nein."
She watched him remove his trousers, glad for the glow of the lantern, glad to see her husband's masculine beauty, glad to understand the mysterious secrets of this ancient ritual.
He lowered himself beside her, his heat sliding against her sensitive hip. Lydia's heart pounded, her body alive and expectant. He touched her bottom lip with the tip of his finger. "What's this?"
The slide of his skin against hers had her undivided attention, and she had to focus on his question. "Die Lippe."
He kissed her lip where he'd touched it, then slid his hand across her shoulder and brushed her hair aside. "And this?"
His chest hair grazed her breast, and her nipples tightened in response. "Die Schulter."
Dipping his head, he pressed a kiss on the rounded curve of her shoulder. He lifted her limp hand and indicated the blue-veined skin of her inner wrist. "And this?"
Her gaze fixed on his damp lips. "Das Handgelenk."
"Das Handgelenk is a mouthful, ja?" His mouth opened wider, as if he'd swallow her hand, but he settled for a wide, sucking nip on her wrist. One bared breast fell under his attention. "And this?"
She held her breath in anticipation. "Die Brust."
He didn't disappoint her. Lowering his face, he nuzzled the silky white skin. Her heart stopped. Lydia had to force herself to breathe.
"Schon," he murmured against her warm flesh. His kisses triggered shivers that skittered upward, across her neck and shoulders. Warmth flooded her.
Lydia gasped at the sweetness of his mouth on her flesh, arching into the exquisite sensation. Her hands strayed naturally across his hard wide shoulders and his upper arms. He rained kisses across her chest and belly, rubbed his face against her tender skin. Branding kisses up her torso, he nuzzled the curve of her neck.
Breath ragged, he kissed her. He brushed her hair aside and stroked her smooth skin, his rough palms a gratifying contrast. She craved his touch.
She framed his jaw with both hands as he kissed her, his skin firm and pleasantly textured. Her thumbs detected the hollows in his cheeks as his tongue sought hers. Lydia opened her eyes and enjoyed his gilt hair and brows in the lamplight. Caught up in the newfound treasure of shared enjoyment, wanting him to feel every bit as encouraged and wonderful as she did, she ran her palms eagerly over his shoulders and back. The muscle beneath was brawny and solid. His biceps were granite-hard but mobile beneath tanned skin as he shifted his weight.
His mouth moved across her lips to her chin. His breathing grew agonized. She pressed her head back into the pillow and afforded him a path across her neck and throat. He moved his hard, hair-roughened body against her from breasts to knees. Lydia ran her fingertips across his beloved face, remembering her distress when his features had been swollen with stings.
"Schon," she murmured in praise, and though the apricot glow of the lantern had dimmed, she thought she saw him blush.
He kissed her with single-minded passion, his thigh boring between hers. Lydia's knees fell apart naturally, and he moved over her, burying himself in her, reverently, unsparingly. Lydia closed her eyes and reveled in the fact that this strong, beautiful man wanted her. His strokes were long and languid.
He took his time kissing, touching, inflaming. Her hands found the taut skin stretched over his hipbones, and his movements grew deliberate. Lydia arched her body to meet his urgent rhythm, a glorious, unbearable tension coiling within her. With splayed fingers, she speared the tawny hair on his chest, felt the tumultuous beating of his heart beneath. She saw the pleasure on his face and welcomed his forceful thrusts.
Something hot and wonderful grew and burst within her, sending delicious, throbbing waves of pleasure spiraling outward from the place their bodies joined. She knew then what he'd wanted to give her, what she'd ached and waited for. And she knew, too, that they had shared something good and special. She stopped a sob in her throat and bli
nked back tears.
He groaned and fell heavily against her side.
Lydia stroked the damp cornsilk hair from his forehead, while against her ribs his heartbeat slowed and steadied.
"It is good, Jakob?" she whispered.
He raised his heavy head and reassured her with his eyes. "Est ist gut, Lydia. Sehr gut."
Lydia awakened to the familiar creak of the bedropes. Water splashed in the porcelain bowl.
"I'll get warm water for you, Jakob." She sat.
"No." He pushed her back against the pillows. "I'll get it for you after I'm dressed."
His hands were warm on her bare shoulders. She smiled. "Silly."
"I'm not silly. I'm smitten."
She looked at him doubtfully.
"By your beauty." He caressed her collarbone with his thumb.
She loved him. She hadn't hoped to feel this way about him. About anyone. Ever. "Are you flattering me again?"
"That's praise. Haven't you ever read the Song of Solomon?"
"It was never in my studies, no. What does it say?"
" 'Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse. How much better is thy love than wine. How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse. Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as honeycomb: honey and milk are under thy tongue.'"
Her eyes widened. "Jakob! That's in the Bible?"
He dropped his hands. "Yup."
"It's as poetic asRomeo and Juliet!"
"You've read Romeo and Juliet?" he asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.
She propped herself against the pillows and adjusted the coverlet across her breasts. "I read a few of your books while you were building bridges."
"Your father'd have my hide."
She agreed with a giggle, their newfound comfort with one another a secure joy.
He kissed her temple, and her thoughts centered on the night before. As if his hand remembered, too, he glided it along her side and rested it on her ribs, beneath her breast.
"I was scared, Lydia." His candid blue eyes diverted her thoughts from his hand. "I thought maybe you regretted coming here with me. Life was perfect where you came from. Here, people hurt, fight, say mean things. I carried you from Eden to an imperfect world. I was selfish."
Lydia's chest ached like an empty stomach at his words. "I have friends here, Jakob. I have you, my husband. I have learned to enjoy life."
"You were happy with your family, and if I hadn't come along, you would've been satisfied. You didn't know any other life was out here."
"You're not selfish," she began, uncertain how to express the things she wanted him to understand. "My life was not perfect before I met you. I didn't have anything—except my grandmother and sisters, and even that pleasure was forbidden. I was lonely."
She took his other hand from his thigh and threaded her fingers through his. "I tried to be satisfied with my life, but there was something missing. A few months ago I couldn't have told you what that was." Lydia grinned. "A few days ago I couldn't have told you what that was."
"Now you know?"
"I think so." She tilted her head. "I can't even think about what my life would have been like if God hadn't led you to Accord. Can you believe that was merely a coincidence?"
"No," he answered softly, and smiled.
"I was scared, too," she admitted. "I thought you were sorry you'd ever brought me here. Like... I was an oddity at first, and then you realized how inept I was, how I would never fit in."
"Oh, darlin'." He pulled her against his bare chest. "I want you happy. You're not like anyone else I ever met, and I don't want you to be." He hugged her soundly. They absorbed one another's warmth for several minutes, and at last he pulled away. "Hungry?"
She nodded.
"Me too. My belly's rubbin' my backbone. Think you could make one of those cinnamon cakes with blueberries?" He tugged on a pair of dark trousers.
Lydia gathered her clothes from the floor. Her mahogany hair, in glorious disarray, tumbled across her shoulders. As she straightened, the dark tips of her full breasts peeked through. Jakob's gaze lowered to the curve of her waist and gentle swell of her hips.
"If I don't leave now," he said, his voice thick with desire, "we'll be late for church. I'll fetch your water."
Lydia smiled at his retreating back, feeling incredibly feminine and desirable. He wanted her. He wasn't sorry he'd brought her here.
She picked up her hairbrush and turned to the mirror. Gathering her tangled hair over one shoulder, she studied her reflection without shame. He thought her beautiful. Was she? Her skin was clear and fair, her waist small, her legs long. Her attention focused on her breasts, and a familiar wave of sensation tingled in her limbs and breast. Jakob had touched each place she saw in the mirror. He had buried himself in her, and enjoyed her. Pleasing him pleased her. Could life get any better?
Jakob's ardor didn't wane after services and the ride home. At dinner she buttered him a slice of bread, and her fingers grazed his as she handed it to him. He jerked his gaze to her gold-flecked eyes. The message there tied his abdomen in knots. She smiled, and he raised the bread to his mouth and took a deliberate bite. She rewarded his intimation with a subtle darkening of her eyes.
After the meal, Jakob stood and tossed his napkin down. "Wanna go for a ride after doing the dishes?"
From the opposite side of the table, Emily gave Lydia a smile. She wore a pastel pink dress she'd fashioned to cover her fuller figure, enhanced by delicate lace at the neck and sleeves. A matching ribbon threaded through her wavy golden hair.
Lydia scraped plates into a lard tin. "I'll finish up here and meet you in the barn."
If Emily could manage to look appealing in her condition, Lydia could do as well. She chose her yellow dress to ride in. Even though it was impractical and would require laundering, the dress reflected her buoyant mood. She threw her shawl around her shoulders and ran to the barn.
Gunter and Carolina stood saddled and waiting. Jakob cradled his fingers for her, and she mounted. They rode along the stream, then crossed a stubbled field. The horses carried them across their grassy clearing. "Next year we'll be living here."
The thought was more appealing than it had ever been. All alone with Jakob. Her husband. Lydia turned her face into the soft breeze. The nights were so cool now the sun felt wonderful during the day. "Yes."
"The bedroom will be right here." He guided them to a spot only he could have identified, then turned, awaiting her expression.
She envisioned the two of them in their bedroom, sleeping side by side, perhaps waking in the dark of the night to come together as they had last night. She smiled.
They walked the horses through the stand of hemlocks, and leaves fell around them, drifting past their heads and shoulders. Jakob dismounted, helped her down and tethered their mounts to a low branch.
Lydia didn't notice the blanket he untied from the back of his saddle until he flapped it open and let it float upon a bed of fragrant needles. Tossing his hat down, he stretched out on the blanket and patted the spot next to him. She gathered her skirt and sat.
"Ooh, lumpy." She shifted an inch.
"This is heaven compared to where I slept on the Susquehanna."
"I thought about you every minute, and wondered where you slept."
"I thought about you every minute, and I slept in a tent full of stinkin', snorin' men."
"No wonder I'm an improvement."
Jakob rolled and placed his head in her lap. "When did you learn to tease?"
She ran her fingers through his sun-bleached hair. "One comes by it quite naturally in this family, don't you think?"
"What did you think when you thought about me?"
She curled a lock of hair around her fingers. "About kisses on the porch the day I peeled apples. About that day you put ointment on my back."
"Oh, yeah..." he groaned. "I thought about that day a lot." He closed his eyes. "I wanted you so badly."
"I missed you terribly, Jakob." Lydia thought of th
e ungrounded misgivings she'd had the night before he returned, too ashamed to tell him of her doubts. "And, Jakob?"
"Hmm?"
"A baby doesn't matter that much now."
He reached up and skimmed his fingers along her jaw. "We'll have one. We'll have our house full of babies." He removed her bonnet and pulled her down alongside him. "I mean to see to it."
Lydia closed her eyes and surrendered to his soul-piercing kiss. He worked his lips over hers with incessant pressure, pressing her head back against the blanket. Her clamoring heart betrayed the effect he had on her. She accepted his kisses hungrily, greedy for the dazzling feelings he created within her. Something in her chest expanded, and she curled her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
Jakob groaned and pressed himself against her thigh. Lydia recognized his excitement through their layers of clothing, and felt his fingers groping through her hair, plucking pins. His mouth awakened every nerve ending along her neck and jaw. He covered her breasts with his hands and bit the tender flesh under her ear. The pressure of his body against hers, combined with his ragged breathing, thrilled and disturbed her at the same time. It was early afternoon, broad daylight, and bedtime was a long way off.
"Jakob," she breathed.
"Hmm..." he mumbled against her throat.
She stared at the sun filtering through the branches overhead and melted as his tongue dipped into her ear. "What are you doing?"
"Kissin' you." He covered her mouth again, running his tongue across her teeth. "I'm fulfilling every dream I had lying awake nights in that tent."
Her eyes widened. "What are you planning?"
His eyes smiled. "I'm planning to take this pretty dress off you so it doesn't get mussed up."
Lydia shoved against his chest and sat bolt upright. "Here?"
Chapter 20
"Now?" Her dark hair tumbled over one shoulder. She stared at him incredulously.
"Yeah. Here... now."
She looked away from his face and scanned the clearing, then studied the sloping hill to the west. Jakob could see her misgivings. Eyes dark with passion, she studied his expression, his mouth. Her own lips were pink and swollen from his kisses. He watched her indecision transform into desire.
Cheryl St.John - [Neubauer Brothers 01] Page 22