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“Yes,” Simon chuckled against her shoulder. “If you sleep well, I might let you die softly again tomorrow.”
Marion smiled to herself. Her heart was full with joy. She didn’t believe that what had happened between them was only physical. How could it be? She had felt an extraordinary connection to him, as if, suddenly, he was the person she was closest to in the entire world.
She had hope, for the first time since their wedding, that perhaps her feelings of connection were shared. She did not believe a man could make such love to a woman without feeling deeply toward her. She sighed, listening to Simon’s heavy breathing against her back and letting her mind drift off towards dreams of more evenings spent in each other’s arms.
Chapter Thirteen
Simon awoke gently in the cold hours before dawn, suddenly chilled. The blankets had fallen off him and he dragged them back on, feeling the pull of sore muscles as he stretched. At first, he could not work out why he was in pain, but then, as he rolled over, his leg touched warm flesh.
He sat up, initially startled. Then he looked to his left and saw the dark sheet of Marion’s hair spread like a tangled web over his pillows. She looked like a sleeping princess from a story of Arabian nights, her hair so long that a prince might climb it in a fairy story.
He smiled as memories of their evening together came back to him. It had been one of the most sexually satisfying nights of his life. He knew he had burned for Marion, had often had to chide himself for thinking wanton thoughts about her, but now he knew that what he imagined was only a fraction of the sensual wonders Marion was capable of.
Simon had discovered things about himself, too. In the past, his romantic entanglements had been with paid company at bawdy houses in the years of his Grand Tour before he was married, or with his wife. Those bawdy house girls often simply took control of the situation, delivering what was necessary without much conversation. His romantic engagements with Stella had been different. He had loved her, had treasured her, and they had given one another pleasure. But they had not necessarily spoken very much about their lovemaking, preferring instead to follow the instincts of their hearts.
With Marion, Simon had uncovered a new part of himself. He loved to hear her voice, to guide her through the art of lovemaking, to hear her French curses and expressions that she gasped out in the moment of crisis. He had not realised he had missed the touch of a woman so much, and now, he could feel his hunger reawakening. He wanted to bring her pleasure in every possible way. He lay back down beside her, snuggling his face into her jasmine-scented hair and wrapping his arms around her waist.
“Mmmm.” Marion arched her back against him, her body instinctively moving towards pleasure in a way that made Simon’s blood rise.
“Is it morning?” she murmured, rolling over and draping her leg over his naked thigh.
“Not quite.” Simon’s voice was hoarse as he felt his desire growing stronger, and he slid his hands around to her back, pulling up her shift so he could press his hands against the cool skin of her spine. “It is still night.”
“Well then…” Marion opened her eyes, blinking sleepily like a cat. Her eyes were so dark, black in the dim pre-dawn light. “Perhaps we could…”Marion’s hand slid down his naked body, her fingers swirling against his thigh. Simon growled happily, kissing her softly.
“Are you not tired, Marion?”he asked playfully.
Her eyes crinkled with delight at his words and she kissed him deeply. Simon loved her kisses—they were all encompassing, all consuming, as if he was drowning in her desire.
“No,” she whispered, looking at him with her whirlpool eyes. “I still have much to learn.”
“Oh,” Simon whispered against her lips. “What would you like to be taught?”
“Everything,” Marion answered, causing Simon’s heart to race brutally, but he nodded, his desire almost painful at this point. He wanted to possess her, to know her inside out and to show her pleasure that she had never known. He wanted to be the man she screamed out for in delight.
“I shall teach you about yourself,” Simon whispered, reaching for the hem of her shift. “I shall teach you what makes your heartbeat tick, what makes your pleasure mount…should you like that?”
Marion nodded, her eyes fixed on him. After her soft affirmations last night that had driven him to distraction, it was not enough.
“Should you like that?” he repeated slowly, wanting her to understand thoroughly what excited him most.
“Yes,” Marion whispered, pressing her lips against his collarbone. “Oui, Simon.”
He shuddered as she said his name with a French accent. It was so alluring, so compelling, it felt like he was being put under a spell. She did it because she knew it enchanted him, and he was helpless.
He hurriedly pulled the edge of the hem up over her head, revealing her naked and warm beside him. He was awed again by the silky quality of her skin. Stella had been as fair as an English rose, but Marion’s skin had a sunny, golden quality. Her nipples were as dark and red as cherries, and large and hard as he kissed them, licked them, feeling her squirm with desire, gasp out in delight.
“You like this?” he whispered, brushing his lips against the satin soft skin of her breasts. “It pleases you?”
“So much!”she gasped.
He hadn’t known how powerful it was to have a woman speak her desires to him, to let him know that he was giving her astonishing rapture. He felt as if his pleasure was peaking and falling with the words on her lips, with her gasps and tempting little moans. He wanted to give her more satisfaction than she ever imagined was possible.
“Did you enjoy what we did last night?” he whispered, trailing kisses down towards her belly button. He liked to tease her, he realised, enjoying tantalising her with the promise of future delights.
“I did,” she whispered. “Will you do it again?”
The simplicity of her need, the freshness of her wants as a woman now discovering her own sensuality, was unbelievably seductive to him. It was unguarded, unpretentious, and made him feel as if they were the only people in the whole world.
