CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Carson

That night I couldn’t sleep. Thoughts of Amelia preyed on my mind, making me toss and turn and unable to find rest.

“She’s so beautiful.”

I sighed, recalling how her eyes had lit up when she saw the gift. How she had melted against me in the kitchen, making my blood race. The sweetness of her lips.

“Oh, hell.”

I sat up, unable to take it anymore. I looked at the clock. It was one am. I shook my head. It was stupid just to lie here, restless, thinking about her. Besides, my mouth was dry. I slid slippers on and walked quietly to the bathroom.

“Carson?”

I whipped round. Amelia was in the hallway. She looked tired but alert, her hair loose around her pale shoulders. I felt my heart start to thud inside me.

“Amelia?” I whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“I can’t sleep.”

I sighed. “Nor can I.”

We looked at each other. I felt myself start to tremble inside. She stepped over the threshold, hand outstretched to me. I shuddered as I took it, her flesh warm and vital against my cold palms.

“You’re cold,” she whispered, frowning.

“Just my fingers,” I said. I moved closer to her and I wasn’t sure whether it was me bending or her leaning back that brought our lips together, but my mouth slid against hers and my tongue probed her mouth and we kissed.

“Oh…” she moaned, looking up at me. Her pupils were wide in the half-light and the look in her eyes ignited my need.

“Amelia?” I asked, hesitant.

“Come on,” she whispered.

She took my hand and guided me to her bedroom. I sighed. “I shouldn’t.”

“Yes,” she said briefly. “You should.”

I chuckled. “You argue well.”

She smiled. “Only when I’m motivated by the cause.”

“Well, this cause is very…motivating,” I breathed as I held her against my chest. She smelled of floral perfume and sweet spices and something that was indiscernible and uniquely her. My cock was throbbing with need as we kissed.

“Mm,” she agreed. Her eyes on mine were a little wild and I caught her and held her against me, stroking my hands down her back.

I pushed her down against the bed and she lay back, smiling up at me. She looked so happy and irresistible at once. My hands undressed her carefully and I buried my face in her hair, then kissed her throat.

She groaned and I loved the sound. I moved lower, taking one of her big, pale nipples in my mouth and sucking gently. She murmured and stroked my shoulder and I knew I was the luckiest person in the world.

I buried my face between her breasts and kissed her there, then moved to the other nipple, sucking on the smooth skin. I could smell her scent, and it was driving me crazy. I moved lower, lingering at her bellybutton. The musky smell of her womanhood drifted to me and I licked lower, feeling a rising urgency building inside me as I slipped between her thighs.

She cried out as I licked at her. I felt my cock throb as I sucked on the damp, slippery folds of her body, probing them for the hard nodule beneath. I found it and worked it with my tongue and she gasped and tensed and pressed closer.

I was completely overwhelmed. My body took over and my brain shut down and all I wanted was to go on licking and sucking and mouthing and making her shudder.

She was shuddering now, and I could feel she was about to climax. I worked harder, pressing and biting just a little, drawing her into my mouth.

When she cried out, I felt my own body almost reach the pinnacle too. Without thinking further, I threw off my night-robe and underpants and plunged into her.

She gasped with longing and I thought I might die as her warmth and wetness enveloped me. I slid into her and she held me tight as I shuddered and groaned and moved.

We were moving together, first slowly and then faster as I thrust into her, faster and faster.

“Oh!”

I gasped as an orgasm like I would never have imagined built to a crescendo inside me. I collapsed against her, moaning and shivering, feeling my body still pulse in her.

We lay like that for ages. I think I slept. My face was pressed to her neck, her arms around me, her body still warm on mine.

I woke up some unfathomable time later, realizing it was cold. I shivered and sat up.

“Carson,” she whispered. “Stay here?”

“No,” I whispered. Kissed her brow. Shook my head. I couldn’t stay the night. If I fell asleep holding her, I would never be able to walk away. And, despite myself, I knew I still should. Today had been an indulgence; a weakness I should not have permitted in myself. I had let myself show her how I really felt and, in so doing, had come perilously close to ruining both of our futures forever.

She can’t live with me. I can’t stay with her.

I was a train-wreck. And I had history. There was no way I could bring Amelia into the crazy mess that was my post-war life.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because,” I said softly. She looked confused and upset and I wished, more than anything, that I could stay with her. That I could slide under the cover and lie with her until morning. That I could show her, so clearly, how deeply I felt for her.

But I couldn’t.

I squeezed her hand, set my face to cold neutrality, and walked, briskly and quietly, to my own room.

Once there, I drew on my underpants, put my night-robe on the cupboard-door and slid into bed. I was sleepy, but no less confused.

I was, however, tense with resolve.

That was the last time I would spend a night with her.