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“It’s fading.” She looped her arms about his shoulders, drawing him closer. “Please, don’t stop. It’s all so interesting and—” The second he moved within her was the moment she forgot how to speak, how to breathe, how to do anything that didn’t pertain to joining with this man.
Over and over, he speared into her with the same slow strokes. Perhaps he wished to savor the joining or perhaps he didn’t wish to spook her, but she didn’t care. In the cage of his arms, with his weight pressing her into the mattress, and his skin fused to hers, she was safe and protected. More than that, she felt cherished, loved.
Wanted.
The scrape of the crisp hair of his chest against her nipples recalled her to the moment and heightened the sensations wildly ricocheting through her body.
Then the rhythm he’d set changed. Faster and faster, he thrust. Deeper and deeper he went. Harder and harder he claimed her as if he couldn’t wait to ride the crest she’d just been on. It was awkward at first, trying to discover how her body worked with his, how to match his cadence to enhance the exquisite pleasure his every stroke brought.
In the end, it didn’t matter, for there was a lifetime of this ahead of her—them. Felicity surrendered to his care and expertise. The pressure in her belly shifted, broke. Her body stiffened and then the familiar hot wave of pleasure caught her up in its crest. A vortex of white light collected her into its spiral as contractions rocked her passage and her fingers flexed, the nails digging into his shoulders. A keening cry built in her throat, but she bit the inside of her lip, pressed her lips into the crook of his neck to keep the sound from escaping.
Bartholomew thrust once, twice more and then he, too, fell into his own release. His shaft jerked and pulsed within her. He ground his hips into hers while a deep groan echoed in her ear. With his hands buried in her hair, he kissed her, long and hard, then took her into his arms and rolled them both onto their sides. “Dear God, it’s been quite a while since I’ve lain with a woman.”
“That surprises me.” But pleasure curled through her chest in a different way than what he’d just given her. “Why the wait?” Would she ever become used to being enfolded in a man’s arms with her body pressed so intimately to his? It was extremely special, and she wanted to revel in it on this most holy of mornings.
“There simply wasn’t a woman who caught my fancy. Plus, I wasn’t in the mood to invite one into my life again. Until you.”
Heat slapped at her cheeks while a pleasant lethargy weighted her limbs. “It sounds silly, but I’m glad. It makes me think what we have is all that more lovely.”
“Of course it is.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Ah, Felicity, we have such wonderful things to look forward to together.”
The least of which was doing what they’d just done again. It had gone by so quickly she hadn’t had a chance to properly appreciate it. Yet she nodded and snuggled more comfortably into his arms. “I feel so too.”
“By the by, this is all thanks to my mother’s machinations.”
“What?” Shock poked holes through the exhaustion she wanted to tumble into.
“Oh, yes. She admitted as much to me after you ran off in a huff. She’s tried to throw us together throughout the holiday season, beneath the mistletoe, errands out, everything, because according to her, she knew we would suit shortly after she hired you.” Amusement wove through his voice. “But don’t let on that you know. It’ll remain our secret.”
“She’ll gloat and hold it over our heads.”
“Let her gloat. She deserves the same happiness we do.”
“Perhaps you’re right. I’ll be sure to be extra sweet to her later today.” She slid a hand down his back, followed the play of muscles beneath his skin. Oh, she couldn’t wait to explore him! “Happy Christmas, Bartholomew. I’m still shocked you chose me; you love me.”
“Happy Christmas, Felicity.” The warmth of his breath danced over her cheek and neck. “How could I not when you dressed me down so splendidly upon our first meeting? I hoped from that moment your fire and spirit would continue to intrigue me.” When she attempted to mount an objection, he kissed her sweetly and quite thoroughly, enough to ignite the tiny fires in her blood that had raged not moments before. “I’ll tell you every day for as many times as you require it I love you until you believe it.”
“You’re quite my vision of Christmastide, the ones I persisted in dreaming,” she whispered.
“And you are mine.”
Yes, life would indeed prove an undeniable adventure with the captain by her side. Perhaps it wasn’t a silly thing after all to keep dreaming the dreams of the heart, for eventually they would come true.
Especially if one had a cantankerous, romantic-at-heart widow for an employer.
