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Chapter XIII
Saturday morning poured a spring sun through the curtains finding Mark and Amy entwined bodies in wrinkled bed-sheets. Mark had sought Amy in the night, incapable of keeping his hands, among other parts, from her. No wonder he was starving, he thought, as he opened his eyes to the bright day. Amy still slept in his arms. He merged his face in her hair and inhaled its flowery scent.
Amy tossed slightly and opened her eyes a little. She yawned and stretched in his arms, rubbing her lush body on his and tempting him. Then she sighed and closed her eyes again. Only Mark could bring her this sense of relaxation after a night of love, she thought in her sleepiness. His lovemaking was such a hurricane, though. He had turned her red-hot through the night filling her with satisfaction.
“Come on, Sleeping Beauty.” He spoke in her ear and nibbled it. “I’m hungry.”
“I’m not surprised.” She groaned lazily and sat up.
And the sheet fell from her body. And Mark looked at her with those remarkable eyes. Her stare met his. Desire.
“Oh, my God!” Mark moaned as he hauled her back to bed.
They spent what was left of the morning strolling along the beaches and they had picnic in one of them. Amy took him around the touristic views in the afternoon. After a brief stop at Amy’s house, they stepped into the night. It was late when they came to the house in the old town. Mark followed her to her bedroom and engulfed her again in his intense lovemaking.
Amy awoke next morning to find herself wrapped in Mark’s strong arms. He lay along her back with his face buried in her cinnamon silky ringlets. She just remained there enjoying the feel of him, quietly.
Mark stirred and held her closer. He was waking up. His hands started wandering over her naked lush body. A half-smile in her lips of pure delight. His fingers came up looking for her breast. They rolled her nipple lazily at the same moment he nibbled the nape of her neck. She sighed with pleasure. He pressed his body on hers, she felt his arousal and she arched to feel more. In the attempt to hold her tighter, his body came over hers.
“Amy.” He groaned in a sleepy hoarse voice. “Please.”
As answer, she opened her legs and elevated her buttocks for him.
“I can’t get enough of you, for God’s sake!” And he glided in her in a long, deep thrust, while his fingers searched the core of her.
Amy was tortured by his fingers and relieved by his thrusts. Together both contradictory actions took her to the edge. He continued moving until she found a hallucinating pleasure. Mark also met with intense release. They fell asleep anew.
Sunday elapsed calmly as they strolled around the old town. Amy knew Mark must leave today. He had given the opening speech to the managing staff in Mallorca and he was supposed to go back to London to his duties at his company.
Late afternoon, they came back to her house. Mark had called his crew and warned them to prepare for flying. She stood in the middle of the sitting room, looking at the sunny old city through the window.
At that moment, he strode to the sitting room and threw his backpack casually at the entrance hall. He approximated her, took her by her shoulders and his attention bored into her enormous honey stare.
“You’re coming with me to London. We’re going to get married and we’re living in the Georgian mansion.” His voice deep and commanding.
Amy stared at his predator’s focus and annoyance crept into her. She breathed out a sarcastic smile. “You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?”
His gaze acquired a lost quality, as if he couldn’t understand her point. “It is the only sensible thing to do.”
Sensible? He sought her in the night with steaming passion. He snuggled possessively. He took her from fiery hells of desire to unthinkable heavens of delight and release and he was sensible? What kind of marriage would this be? Based on their inexorable physical attraction? He never talked about his feelings, neither did she, to be honest. But what if he got tired of her? He had too much sexual energy to keep up with a bland marriage. This scheme scared her to death, to say the least.
It scared her for more reasons than one. Loss. She had known several losses in her life: her mother at a tender age; Linda, her adored step-mother; and her father. She had gone through too much sorrow from too young age. Without even being aware of it, she dreaded losing Mark, her former guardian, her present lover. In her sensitive, emotional way of thinking, it was better to avoid commitments than feel that pain again.
“I have business to attend to here, you know.” And she had other business elsewhere as well, but this wasn’t to go public. Not to him.
“Sell it. Abandon it! Whatever.” His voice became hard; he stepped away from her, raking his hand through his sleek dark hair.
“I’m not doing anything of the sort.” She lifted her chin in defiance. He turned to her and she held his stare determinedly.
“What do you propose then? That I travel here on weekends?”
“I propose nothing!” Her hands hung on her waist in a clear sign that she’d keep her ground. “We get on with our lives. We owe nothing to each other.”
In a wave of fury he stepped quickly to her and laced her tight by the waist. “And you’re sure we’ll succeed in keeping apart.” He spoke through his teeth.
“Absolutely.” She eyed him trying to hide the sensations that were already cutting through her body. “We’ve done it for the last period of time.”
“The devil we have!” He muttered angrily tightening her even more. “I searched for you like crazy; the nights were penitence and memories, anguishing.”
