Rhapsody (9 page)

He still feels the same way, she thought. He
still loves me after all these years.

Serena looked up at him, into those dark
eyes, a solemn expression on her face. He reached over and brushed
the tears from her eyes with a finger, gently, reverently,
silently.

She reveled in his nearness to her, the touch
of his finger, his arm around her shoulder, his tender
ministrations. She could feel his breath upon her, could smell his
uniquely masculine and erotic aroma. And she sensed his urgent
desire for her.

"I love you," he whispered, lightly tracing a
finger upon her exquisite features. "I've never stopped loving you,
Serena."

She almost gasped aloud at the words, and she
felt anew the overwhelming power that these particular words from
this particular man held over her. She felt a swoon of desire—that
was the only way to describe it— rise from deep down within her. It
overshadowed any resistance to him she might have had, rendered any
considerations but for this moment, in this place,
inconsequential.

"I ...I've always loved you, too, Misha," she
whispered. "I've never loved anyone like I love you."

He pulled her closer, encircling her in his
powerful arms, as his lips sought out hers. When they closed over
hers, her body trembled in a kind of ecstasy, and she wanted the
moment to last forever in its tender sublimity. Then his tongue, so
warm, so sweet, so langorous, parted her lips, and he began to
explore her mouth, slowly at first, delving, probing, licking.
Gradually, the flames of his desire began to build, and he began to
plunge more hungrily, lustily, devouring her with his passion, his
urgency driving him deeper, faster. She gave herself up to him, her
own desire consuming her, devouring him as he did her, her body
afire now with an urgency and ardor she had virtually forgotten was
possible but that she now remembered with a shock that was powerful
but welcome in all it entailed.

He abruptly stopped and pulled back, and she
almost whimpered at the sudden need for him. "Oh, my God, Serena,"
he rasped, "I've missed you so much. So much."

"Oh, yes," she whispered. "And I've missed
you, Misha. So much."

His arms hugged her even closer to him, and
his hands began to run up and down her back, up her neck, into her
luxuriant black hair. He gently pulled her head back, and his mouth
plunged to her long, swanlike neck, and he licked at her
feverishly, then kissed and sucked at her as if he could never
taste enough of her deliciousness.

Serena moaned with pleasure, holding his head
in her hands, running her fingers through his hair, up and down his
strong, muscular back, over his hard, round buttocks. She gloried
in his body and the return of this hunger that she hadn't known for
so long. She realized that she had been starved for the touch of
this man, for the banquet that was his magnificent body in its love
for her. Nobody in all those years had come close to arousing her
as he did now, as he always had.

He rolled onto his side and pulled her with
him, so that they lay face-to-face on the couch, one of his arms
under her, the other free to explore. His mouth sought out hers
again as his hand ran up her leg, under her skirt, and over her
silken buttocks, pulling her to him, pelvis to pelvis.

She could feel his hard tumescence riding
against her and was enthralled with this potent physical
manifestation of the sheer power that together they generated.

"Oh, Misha," she gasped, "I want you. I want
you in me!"

"Yes," he whispered, peppering her face with
kisses. "Yes, my darling." He drew back slightly, looking into her
eyes. "Let's go into the bedroom."

"Yes," she said, "let's go. Now."

Misha rose to his feet and extended a hand to
her. She took it, and he pulled her up to him, taking her into his
arms, kissing her passionately once more. Then he put an arm around
her waist, and together, they walked into the bedroom, where he
began to undress her.

Slowly and reverently, he gently slid her
sweater over her head, dropping it to the floor. Then he unhooked
her bra and let it slide from his fingers to join the sweater. He
took her breasts in his hands, stroking them softly and gently as
his mouth covered hers and he kissed her more ravenously than
ever.

Serena moaned, relishing the touch of his
hands on her nakedness, and returned his kisses, anxious for the
feel of his hard, muscular bare flesh against her own.

His hands, moving more forcefully now, began
to thrum her small, strawberry nipples between fingertips, exciting
them to hardness. He kissed her neck, nibbling and licking, his
tongue darting across her flesh, slowly moving down, down,
inexorably down, to her breasts, where he kissed and licked with
rapacious desire.

Serena felt the sudden wetness between her
thighs and moaned again in exquisite pleasure as her body readied
itself for him.

His hands found the zipper on her leather
skirt and pulled it down. With his mouth still at her breasts, he
slid her skirt down, over her slim hips, and let it slide to the
floor. He went down on one knee, his hands moving to Serena's
buttocks, his mouth to her waist, kissing and licking her.

Serena trembled with almost uncontrollable
desire, her hands in his hair, drawing his head to her, but he drew
back slightly as his hands slowly slid her panty hose down to her
feet. She stepped out of them and her skirt, kicking them away in a
single motion.

Misha looked up at her momentarily, an
expression of awe on his face. Then his mouth went to her thighs,
kissing and licking in long strokes, slowly moving ever more
closely to her raven black mound, until at last he delicately began
to kiss and lick there.

Yet another tremor ran through Serena as she
felt his heat on her there, his tongue delicately exploring until
it found that glorious treasure between her legs. She gasped aloud,
savoring the feel of him, tempted to push his head into her harder,
to beg him to go faster, deeper, but letting him take his time,
teasing her as he was to excruciating heights of bliss. She almost
cried out as his tongue suddenly dove into her, his hands pushing
her buttocks hard against his face as he began to devour her in a
frenzy.

"Oh, Misha," she whispered. "I want you in
me, Misha. Oh, my God. Now. Please."

Misha abruptly jerked back, his breath coming
in rasps. "Oh, my God," he breathed. "Oh, Serena." He stood up and
took her in his arms again, kissing her hard, his tongue plunging
into her mouth. Then just as suddenly he drew back and led her to
the bed. She sat down, and he stood before her and began taking his
clothes off. First, his black turtleneck sweater and undershirt,
exposing his strong chest and powerfully muscular arms. Then, after
reaching down and pulling off his shoes and socks, he unbuckled his
belt and unzipped his trousers, which he quickly pulled off.

Serena watched, enthralled at the sight of
his body, remembering her initial surprise all those years ago that
a classical musician would have such a powerfully muscular build,
and mesmerized anew by his hard masculinity.

Misha pulled down his Jockey shorts now, and
his tumescence sprang before her in all its glory. He stood there,
naked, without a trace of embarrassment, taking pride in his
powerful manhood just as he reveled in the sight of her exquisite
body in its nakedness. After a few moments, he joined her on the
bed, where he guided her with a hand, spreading her out on her
back. He bent over her, his knees between her legs, staring into
her eyes, his expression feverish with desire. His hands slowly
moved to her breasts, and he stroked them softly, gently, teasing
her before moving down her slender torso to her thighs and her
mound, which he stroked ever so delicately.

Serena, tantalized to almost unbearable
heights of passion, began to writhe with her own desire and reached
out with a hand and encircled his cock, stroking its length, then
brushed along his balls lightly before returning to his cock. Misha
gasped involuntarily, his eyes closing in ecstasy, and he slid his
fingers into her, feeling her wetness.

In a frenzy now, he was unable to wait any
longer. He took her hand off his cock and put it back over her
head, then brought her other hand there to join it. He held them
both with one of his, then spread her thighs with his other hand,
before finally lowering himself to her mound, poised to take her,
hesitating a brief moment, then entering her, slowly, but
deliberately, shoving himself all the way in.

Serena jerked from side to side at first,
almost overwhelmed by his hugeness within her, but wanting it,
needing it, loving it, opening herself up to him with all of her
might.

Misha withdrew very slowly, and she
whimpered, before he plunged in again, impaling her as she surely
never had been before. He could wait no longer, his passion
overcoming his restraint, and he began to ride her faster, harder,
plunging in and out like a man possessed. He released her hands and
placed both of his under her buttocks, lifting them, pushing them
hard against him, then relentlessly riding her, intent now on
release.

Serena moved with him, gasping, moaning,
crying out as wave after wave of carnal pleasure engulfed her in an
ecstasy of timelessness, then thrashed madly as the floodgates of
orgasm rolled over her, her cries joining his as he finally plunged
in to the hilt and spasmed, jerking wildly as he let out a bellow
of release.

After a moment, he collapsed on top of her,
hugging her hard to him, noisily peppering her face and neck and
breasts with kisses, his breath coming in loud gasps. "I love you,
I love you, I love you," he rasped repeatedly, his body trembling
in the aftermath of release. "Oh, Serena, I love you."

Serena wrapped her arms around him, gasping
for air, the flood tide of their pleasure warming her to the very
core of her being. She felt as one with this extraordinary man,
completely satisfied and content as with no one else, wishing the
feeling could go on forever, knowing of course that it could not be
sustained, that she could only hope to reexperience it. She grasped
him to her harder, squeezing, her breath still coming in deep,
noisy rasps, her heart still hammering in her chest. "I love you,
too, Misha," she finally managed, returning his kisses. "I love
you, too."

After a few more moments, he lay with his
head on her shoulder, both of them still, letting their breathing
return to normal, content to hold each other, to plant solemn
kisses, he on her shoulder, she on his head.

Misha finally raised himself on an elbow and
stared into her eyes. "That was wonderful," he said.
"Unforgettable." He hugged her to him and kissed her on the
mouth.

Serena returned his affection, then said:
"I'd forgotten how wonderful it can be. How extraordinary." She
squeezed his buttocks. "Misha, there's nobody else like you."

He began running his hands up and down her
body, slowly, savoring its lustrous afterglow, beginning to explore
it anew, all the time looking into her hazel eyes, a look of
adoration on his features. Then his mouth went back to her breasts,
where he began to lick and suck, the heat of his passion flaming up
again, not quite spent by their first coupling.

He had remained inside her, inert but large,
and now Serena could feel him growing, his tumescence engorging
once more, his hands and mouth exploring with renewed vigor, his
pace gradually increasing. She moaned aloud when he mounted her
again, her passion rekindled, and fell into the rhythm of their
lovemaking with a natural ease.

They were slower this time but once again
came together in a frenzy of release, after which they lay side by
side on the bed, arms entwined, unable to part.

"I don't know what I've done without you all
these years," Misha said, looking at her. "I really don't."

Serena smiled. "I feel the same way," she
said, returning his look. "Exactly the same way."

"Nothing else has compared with this," he
went on, "and now I wonder how I can live without it. Without
you."

Serena remained silent, a wisp of a smile on
her face. A smile of satiation, of contentment. She didn't want to
point out the obvious to him: he didn't have to live without it.
Without her. That she was there for him.

Misha kissed her lips again, chastely, then
her eyes, her nose, her cheekbones, her forehead and chin. Heaving
a sigh, he hugged her to him. "I can't let you go again, Serena,"
he said. "I can't lose you again."

She wanted to believe him, and as far as she
was concerned, she certainly didn't want to give him up. She was
not a fool, however. She knew that their situation was a very
difficult one at best. "I don't want to lose you, either, Misha,"
she finally said. "I want to be with you." She looked into those
black eyes of his. "But what do you want to do? What can we
do?"

He was thoughtful for a few moments, gently
running a hand up and down her spine, her arm, over her buttocks.
"We can go on seeing each other," he said. "That's all I know to
do. Just go on seeing each other as much as we can manage." He
looked at her.

"I want to," Serena said quietly. "But what
about Vera and your family?"

"Vera," he repeated. He sighed. "I don't
know, Serena," he said. "I just don't know what will happen." He
squeezed her hand and stared into her eyes again.

"I can't promise you anything. Right now I
just know that I want to see you more than anything else in the
world. I can't lose you again."

Serena ran a hand through his tousled hair.
"I know," she said. "I know you can't make any promises, and I
don't expect you to right now." She paused a moment before
continuing. "As much as I detest all the furtive- ness, all the
lying and cheating"—she looked at him with a serious
expression—"and that's what seeing you would entail. Make no
mistake about that. But I don't want to give you up either, Misha.
And, if we can work it out, somehow or other . . ."