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“What happened?” She asked somnolently, stretching.
He turned his piercing eyes to her. His midnight wavy hair mussed, her fingers’ deed; his stubble darkened his jaw. He looked like a tall Celtic warrior. She wished he came back to bed to make her happy once more.
“I did not want to disturb you.” He raked his hair with his long tanned fingers. “Again.” He focused his steamy eyes on her, causing lightning sensation to flash through her.
Shameless, she let the counterpane fall a few inches from her shoulders and stared directly at him. “Come to bed.” She commanded.
“Aurelia.” His voice huskier, as his eyes perused her, tempted. “I need to let you rest!” Exasperation lay in the utterance.
The counterpane fell more inches, revealing the top of her breasts. “Stand up and come here.” She repeated.
Their eyes meshed in a long tacit dialogue, his trying for a desperate resistance and hers provoking.
In a daze, his legs moved, and he started to the bed, his comfortable trousers tented with his need.
“I rather find you becoming in these pyjamas.” She complimented him, teasing.
“You do?” He asked husky, eyes fixed on her.
“Yes. I especially like the way the under part… tents.” She lay down for his appreciation.
“You like… oh.” He reached the bed. “It is always in this condition in your presence.” He lay by her side.
“Good thing all I have to do is to untie it.” She said mimicking her words, revealing his hard craving for her.
He moaned at the same time as his mouth reached her sensitized breast.
The first lights found them cuddling, Aurelia on her side and Conrad behind her, holding her, his nose buried in her loose long rosewood hair. Her smell and her softness made him want to touch her incessantly. In the night, he awoke wanting her, guilty about it. She had to sleep to keep her energy. She used to be so active and diligent. But the want of her came strong and unavoidable. She responded so eagerly, her earthy willingness enthralling him, making him more attached to her.
She turned to him, her body skimming his, as he tried to skip the inferno of his desire. “Good morning.” He said when her rosewood eyes met his.
“Good morning.” She mumbled, her leg bridging over his
Oh dear!
“Slept well?” Distraction would get him through this.
“Splendidly. You?”
“Couldn’t be better.” He tightened his arms around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. They remained thus lengthy.
“Excuse me.” She said, getting up and dressing her new lacy negligée.
He glimpsed at her, observing she had acquired a rather ashen colour. Upright, she walked to her bedroom and closed the connecting door.
He had no qualms following her, worried with this change in her. In her dressing room, she sat with a chamber pot on her lap. She was sick and would not accept his help, damn her! He hurried to take a towel and moisten it. As the sickness subsided, he took the chamber-pot away and towelled her sweated brow; she breathed heavily. He did not care he was stark naked.
“Does this happen often?” He saw her sparsely during the day. Anything might befall her; it hit him, bringing him to a concerned state.
“Yes, at different times of day.” She answered candidly.
“Why don’t you tell me about it?” His pleated brow spoke of contrariety.
“I don’t want to worry you. It is normal in the first couple of months.” She held her negligee tight around her swollen, beautiful breasts.
“I have the right to know, Aurelia!” Knelt before her, he lifted his serious gaze to hers.
“I agree, but men overreact.” She shrugged.
