Guardian's Hope (22 page)

“This hair, with all the color of autumn,
draws me to pull the pins from it, unbind it and bury my face in
its silken luxury. You smell like roses, Hope, roses in a garden of
delight.” He pushed her unbound hair over one shoulder to expose
her neck and kissed it lovingly. He spoke with his lips against the
vein. “Just here, I can feel your pulse quicken. I can feel the
pleasure my lips bring to you.” His hands moved to her shoulders
and traveled lightly to the base of her throat and the bow. She
closed her eyes and swallowed.

“Open your eyes, my precious. Open your eyes
and see what I see.” And when she wouldn’t, he commanded softly,
but firmly, “Open your eyes, Hope.”

She opened her eyes and watched her face
flame with embarrassment as he pulled the ribbon tails of the bow.
One by one, his fingers deftly pushed each tiny pearl button
through its hole exposing more and more of her throat, her chest
and finally her breasts. He pushed the gown over her shoulders and
down her arms, trapping them at her sides. His hands slid over and
under her breasts, weighing them in his palms, pushing them
together.

“Look at their beauty, Hope.” He held her
breast like an offering and pressed himself up against her from
behind. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest and the
bulge of his pants throbbing up against her rear.

“They, too, call me to touch them. Their
beauty, softness and comfort are a gift to me. I long to play and
kiss and lick and nibble until you cry with pleasure.” His fingers
caressed and stroked and kneaded and pulled until her head fell
back on his shoulder and she moaned. His laugh was full of lust and
love.

“Look,” he said again and his voice forced
her eyes back to the mirror. He flicked the pebbled bud lightly
with his fingers. “See how they enjoy my attentions; how they tell
me you want me as I want you.

“Watch. Don’t close your eyes. Watch.” His
voice was a breathless rumble from his chest.

His hands moved back to the gown and he
pushed it slowly down her arms until it pooled on the floor at her
feet. She stood there naked but for her white lace panties already
soaked with her want and need of him.

“Why would you be ashamed of this, full and
soft and round as a woman should be.” His hands roamed over the
small pouch of her belly and moved across her hips to her rear.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t close her eyes as
she watched him fall to his knees in front of her. He pulled her
panties down her legs and lifted each foot until they were
free.

With reverence, as if he really was
worshiping her, he brought his lips to the edge of her womanly slit
and kissed her. This time when she closed her eyes, it was not from
embarrassment but from the rush of emotions and physical pleasure
he brought with the touch of his lips. A small cry escaped. Her
hands went to his head. Her fingers curled in his hair. Without
words, she told him she wanted more.

He rose and pushed her gently back to the bed
where he sat her on the edge. He bent and kissed her. There was an
urgency to it that she’d never felt before. She saw the images from
his mind and was no longer afraid. How could she be?

Using only his mouth and his kiss, he pushed
her back to lie on the bed and once again began with her eyes and
face, kissing, nibbling, tasting his way down to her breasts until
she was panting with need. She reached for his belt.

“Not yet,” stopping her hand with his. “This
first time is for you and only you. Let me worship you. Let me show
you how it should be.”

She was too far gone to argue and she moaned
as his tongue and fingers played about the edges of her hips and
down the inside of her thighs. By the time he pressed her knees
apart, she had no shame left. She was burning with need. She heard
herself cry out his name when his tongue began to lap at her
folds.

This was what he had waited for and the taste
of her brought a growl of hunger into his throat. Men would kill
for sweetness like this and the thought of another man seeking
this, his woman, brought another kind of growl. She tasted of
sweetness and light, honey straight from the hive. Hers was the
nectar of roses carried on a summer night’s breeze.

His tongue savored and tasted as Hope
thrashed beneath him. He smiled wickedly and plunged his finger
into her opening. Hot and slick, she welcomed him and her cry of
pleasure as she thrust against him encouraged him to add a second
finger and a third. His thumb played against her clitoris as his
fingers pumped in and out setting a rhythm to her cries.

Hope’s fingers snarled in the bed clothes as
her hips soared up to meet the thrusting of his fingers. It was too
much. Her head thrashed from side to side as the pressure and the
pleasure built. She cried out when he pulled away from her, called
out his name and begged him to continue, to give her some relief
from this frenzied need.

And then she felt him at her opening, not his
fingers or his lips, but him and she pushed her hips down against
the full tip. She could hear him murmuring softly, urging her to go
slow, but slow wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted him, filling her,
completing her. She allowed him to set the pace until he was deep
enough to trap him. She wrapped her legs behind him and surged onto
him. There was a flash of pain and he hesitated. How dare he. She
wouldn’t allow it. She pulled him to her with her legs until he was
thrusting to her rhythm.

“Oh, Oh, Oh,” she cried and his finger crept
between them and touched her swollen nub and the world exploded.
This was rapture. This was ecstasy.

Nico heard her cry and felt her body clench
around him. He continued to thrust through her orgasm, once, twice,
three times, until he came with her and he too shouted his joy.

He crawled up beside her and stroked her
hair, kissed her eyes and watched her face change from ecstasy to
bliss. “Now do you see how I see you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she breathed. Her eyes were closed
because she hadn’t the strength to open them. “Oh, yes.”

Chapter 22

Hope stretched her body out, neck, shoulders,
torso, legs and toes, to pull herself from sleep. She opened her
eyes to find Nico smiling down at her.

“Time to get up, lazybones” he said. “We have
reservations at the Lodge and if we lose them, you’ll be eating
tonight from a vending machine.” He bent down and kissed her nose.
“You need to get ready, if we’re to be on time.”

She sat up and the sheet slid down to her
waist. Nico’s breath sucked in on a hiss. Without taking his eyes
from her, he grabbed her gown from the foot of the bed.

“You need to put this on,” he said and he
turned his back and strode to the other side of the room.

Hope was confused. Nico had spent a great
deal of time making love to her breasts and telling her she’d no
reason for shame. Now he snapped at her because she was
uncovered.

“I’m sorry, Nico,” she whispered, sliding the
gown over her head. “Have patience with me. I’m new at this. I
didn’t mean to offend.”

“Offend? Good god, woman, I’m not offended,
I’m aroused.” He turned back to face her and she could see the
telltale bulge of his pants.

“Aroused? But didn’t we just…”

“Yes and I would have gladly done it again,
and again, but you’re a…” One corner of his mouth turned up, “…new
at this and I didn’t want you to be sore.”

“I always thought that once a man was, well,
empty, he was done, for the day, so to speak.” She stood and
shimmied her hips until the hem of her nightgown reached her
ankles.

Nico groaned and spoke with exaggerated
patience, “Go into the bathroom, Hope. Close the door, take your
shower and don’t come out until you’re fully dressed and ready to
leave. If you don’t like what I’ve laid out for you, tell me and
I’ll pass you whatever you want. Just don’t open the damned
door.”

“Yes, sir,” she said outwardly meek. Inside,
laughter was bubbling. Nico said he loved her. Nico thought her
body beautiful. Nico wanted to make love to her again, and again.
His words. Just the sight of her breasts aroused him. She almost
skipped on her way to the shower.

Yesterday, the little black dress with the
deeply scooped neck and the hem at mid-thigh would have made her
self-conscious. Today, it made her feel powerful and sexy. Earrings
made of fine gold chains tipped with tiny golden bells drew
attention to her long neck and the heels of her shoes made her
Nico’s equal in height. He obviously didn’t mind. Watching his eyes
darken as he tracked the path of her legs when she slid into her
seat in the ‘vette, seeing the images flashed from his mind, sent a
thrill zinging through her and made her wriggle with
anticipation.

Madison Lodge sat halfway up the mountain and
its wide porches overlooked the valley below. The hostess explained
that they were booked full and with the additional diners, there
would be an unavoidable delay in seating. She offered complimentary
drinks as recompense and they took them out onto the porch to enjoy
the spring evening. Nico found them a spot away from the other
waiting parties and they stood at the porch rail, shoulder to
shoulder, looking out over the darkening valley and the dotting of
lights from the houses below.

Though the evening was warm for spring, it
was still too cool for Hope’s light weight shawl and she shivered a
little in the breeze. Nico immediately set his drink on the rail
and removed his leather jacket.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were cold?” he
asked as he wrapped her in its warmth.

“It’s my own fault. I should have worn my
coat.”

“I should have reminded you.”

“But I hated to cover this dress,” they said
together and laughed.

Nico moved back to her side but kept his arm
around her waist. Hope rested her head on his shoulder.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said quietly.

Nico chuckled. “I’ve heard a thinking woman
is a dangerous thing.”

“You’d rather I didn’t?”

“Oh no, I’d rather you did. I’ve always liked
to play with dangerous things.” He laughed when she smacked his arm
playfully.

“I’m serious.”

At once he sobered. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve been lying to myself.” She felt his arm
tighten around her waist. “Not about you. About my past, about the
Community of Saints, about my father.”

“How so?”

“They’re good people, you know. The
Community, I mean. For the most part, they’re upright and law
abiding and kind. They take care of each other. I don’t think there
are any more wife beaters or child abusers among them than there
are out here in the world. What I heard them say, what I saw, I
interpreted based on what went on in my own home. I wanted, no, I
needed to believe that was the way everyone’s life was.”

“You needed to believe to survive.”

“Exactly. Watching Grace and Canaan, Dov and
Col, I can see so many similarities between them and the people at
home. The bantering for instance.” She smiled into the darkness.
“Not as filled with innuendo as theirs, but bantering just the
same. I always took it so literally and never saw the love behind
it.” She snuggled a little closer. “Don’t get me wrong. They do
believe that men are first in God’s eyes, but that doesn’t mean
that the men don’t cherish they’re wives. The more I look back, the
more I see how wrong I was. I think some of them may have suspected
what was happening to me, but felt powerless to stop it.”

“Do you miss it?”

“The Community? Sometimes. I miss the
children terribly. Their happiness should have been the slap in the
face that woke me up. They didn’t cringe when their fathers walked
in. They ran to them with open arms. That boy, Henry, I told you
about…” She laughed at the image in Nico’s mind. “You have no
reason to want to strangle him. I told you he’s a good man. It was
telling you about him that made me think. When his wife was
carrying twins, he took over most of her chores. The other men
teased him about doing woman’s work, cast aspersions on his
manhood. I see now what I couldn’t see then. It was all in fun.
Most of them would have done the same for their wives. We never
teased in my house, sarcasm was always cruel and laughter followed
malice.”

“Knowing this, would you like to go back, not
to your father, but to the Community?”

“No, not unless you were with me. And somehow
I can’t see you farming by the light of the moon.” She tilted her
head and kissed the lobe of his ear. “Hey, when did you get your
ear pierced?” The diamond stud glittered in the light. “And why
haven’t I noticed it before?”

“In 1916 when I was living on the docks in
Burgas. I was quite the buccaneer with a giant gold hoop hanging
from my ear.” He laughed at his youthful foolishness. “I’d tried
tattoos on my forearms, but they didn’t take. I thought the earing
made me look dangerous. I don’t wear one often because it captures
the light and might give me away. Tonight’s a special
occasion.”

The hostess walked along the porch calling
Nico’s name and when he answered, she escorted them inside to a
small table set for two. Candlelight shimmered across the table
settings and mirrored off the window panes. Dimly lit chandeliers
cast an amber glow, softening the rough texture of the rustic
furniture and a fire blazed in a huge stone fireplace across the
room adding warmth to the cozy atmosphere. Hope knew there were
finer restaurants in the world, but this was the nicest place she’d
ever been and she couldn’t imagine anything lovelier.

After they gave their order to the waiter,
Hope picked up the conversation where they’d left it on the porch.
“I’m thinking Burgas is in Eastern Europe, but I can’t remember
where.”

“Then you know more than most. It’s in
Bulgaria on the Black Sea.”