Chapter Seventeen
Warm mist caught him as he flew into the pristinely white clouds. The wind kept him afloat with little to no effort. The cloud caught him and smelled of strawberries as it held him close and brought him slowly down to earth.
It felt good to sleep, to awake feeling rested and whole.
And warm.
And not alone.
Even before he opened his eyes, Simon knew Helen was curled up beside him, one of her legs resting intimately over his. Deep, even breaths blew hot air over his exposed chest and his eager body responded.
A lock of her shiny brown hair drifted over her eyes, her heart shaped lips were opened enough to breathe. She was beautiful, and the way she wrapped around his body in sleep gave her an endearing look of vulnerability. Simon would bet his sword she wouldn’t enjoy the title of ‘vulnerable’. She worked so hard to prove she wasn’t, but he’d seen her at her weakest. Each tear he had witnessed her shed was one too many. As always, the overwhelming need to protect her gave him reason to wake every morning.
He draped the arm she slept on around her shoulders and melded his body more firmly against hers. Helen sighed in her sleep, her knee lifted, and brushed against his expanding erection.
Simon bit back a moan and failed miserably. He growled. A sound from deep within his soul escaped.
Helen tilted her chin up, even in her sleep, inviting.
A better man would have let her open her eyes.
Simon didn’t. He bent his head and captured her lips, soft and warm and sweet like the nectar of an overripe fruit. Helen nestled closer and let out a tiny moan of her own. The mewling cat-like noise drifted from her lips and inflamed Simon even more. When her lips started to move over his, and her breathing sped up, he knew she woke.
She hesitated briefly, making him wonder if the innocent woman he’d known when they first met would appear. Instead, Helen climbed up further on his chest until her tongue met with his. The nerves in his body gave off tiny sparks of joy with every touch of her hand, every noise of pleasure she uttered. Whatever demons she’d combated before, Simon had obviously managed to vanquish them. The woman kissing him was a confident woman who knew what she wanted.
His woman.
Simon ran a hand down her waist and captured her backside in his palm. She squirmed over him, her hips dancing with his. “Good morning,” he managed in a hoarse whisper.
Her breath hitched as he hiked her leg over his and let his c**k rub the damp fabric between her legs. “I-I’m not dreaming?”
He chuckled. “With dreams like this, I’d never leave bed.”
Bright blue eyes met his, her lids heavy with desire. “We’re not in a bed.”
“Do you want to be?” He realized a cold floor wasn’t ideal, but the thought of moving before having her, before showing her the stars, was painful.
A shy smile met her lips, and she leaned forward and kissed one of his ni**les. She swiped her tongue over its taut edge, and he knew she didn’t want to retreat from their private haven any more than he.
Simon filled his palm with her breast and teased the tip through the fabric of her nightgown. Helen bit his nipple in a playful response.
“Vixen.”
She bit him again. “I was sleeping. Minding my own business,” she laughed.
“If this is how you mind your own business, I’d like to see you tending to mine.”
Helen walked her fingers up his chest and wove them into his hair.
Simon had a strong desire to push her onto her back, but knew the cold floor would leave marks on her skin by the time they were done. No, he’d watch her above him. Watch her do whatever she pleased. He’d bring her pleasure any way she wanted. God’s blood he prayed she’d gift him with a release buried deep inside of her.
Instinctively, Simon knew not to push her. Something about the way she’d pushed him away hinted of past pain. He’d never be that to her.
“Would you like me to tend to yours?”
Aye. “Only if I can tend to yours.”
The silly grin on her lips tilted slightly and her eyes grew serious. Without another word, she lifted the hem of her nightclothes above her knees while straddling his chest. He could feel her heat and smell her desire. His eyes threatened to roll in the back of his head but he kept them on her. Simon’s hands rested on her thighs as she crossed her arms over her body and removed her clothing.
Her skin was satin, smooth, and silky. Simon watched his hands as they traveled up her shapely thighs. He dipped his thumb over the crest of her hips and scented the glistening patch of hair covering her womanhood. Without touching her there, he skimmed his callused fingers over her stomach and up her trim waist until he held her perfectly luscious br**sts in his hands. “I could touch you for years.”
Leaning forward, Helen kissed him. She invaded his mouth like a vengeful army, taking no prisoners and leaving no spot untouched.
The heat of her core pressed down on him, his erection jutting close enough to feel her folds.
Simon felt his control slipping. He broke away from her kiss and held her cheeks between his hands. “Are you sure of this, lass?”
Her eyes darted back and forth between his. “I’m straddling you naked, Simon. I think I’m sure.”
“I need you. Now.”
Her lips caught between her teeth. “Then take me.”
Releasing a breath, he moved his hands to her hips and with little effort, lifted her over his length. With his eyes never leaving hers, he nudged her open and sank into the tight cavern of her beautiful body. Together they sighed, their smiles giving way to stolen breaths.
Helen’s body gave him room and quivered around him, nearly undoing him right then. She moved her hips and he held her still. “A moment, lass. You’re so tight.”
She clenched him even more with his words.
He groaned.
“It’s been a long time,” she told him.
Good, he thought, no room inside her head for anyone but him. “I’ll make you forget anyone before me,” he vowed as he lifted her up only to plunge into her again.
“You’re so sure of yourself,” she teased.
Her eyes rolled up when he reached the back of her womb. “Us. I’m sure of us.” Everything about their joining felt perfect, as if she were the missing part of his life.
Speech became impossible as they moved together. Their bodies in perfect sync with the other. Helen’s hands roamed his hips, his chest. She set the pace and Simon willingly followed. He forced his body to stay alert and not give into the tsunami wave of pleasure building by being buried inside of Helen.