[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
expected that you would take advantage of the smallest opportunity to get past that promise and master
me. I should have known the truth when you would not quarrel with me. You think to master me in this
way, do you not?"
"Go to sleep,Helena," he said, his voice sounding weary. "We are not engaged in battle but in a marriage.
Go to sleep." He kissed her temple.
She closed her eyes and was quiet for a while. If he knew her as she really was, he would not wish to
share a bed with her, she thought. Once he got to know her, he would leave her alone fast enough. She
would be alone again. She was alone now. But he was seducing her senses with this holding and cuddling
and these murmured words. He was giving her the illusion of comfort.
"Comfort," she said. "It is for comfort, you say. Do you think I do not need comfort, Edgar? Do you
think it? Do you? Do you think I am made of iron?"
He sighed and dipped his head to take her mouth. His was open this time and warm and responsive.
"No," he said. "I do not think that."
"Make love to me, then," she said. "Let us do it for comfort, Edgar." She was being abject. She was
almost crying and her voice revealed the fact. But she would think of that later. She would despise herself
and hate him later. At this moment she was desperate for comfort and she would not remember that
there was no comfort. That there could not be any. Ever.
He lifted her nightgown and his nightshirt before turning her onto her back, coming on top of her with the
whole of his weight, and pushing her legs wide apart with his knees. She would have expected to hate
being immobilized by his weight. But it was deliriously arousing. There was no foreplay. She would have
expected to wish for it, to need it. But she wanted only to be penetrated, to be stretched, to be filled, to
be ridden hard and deep.
He was a man of such control, her husband. He was hot and damp with need. He was rigid with desire.
But he worked her slowly, withdrawing almost completely before thrusting firmly and deeply inward
again. If there had been foreplay, she would have been in a frenzy of passion by the time he entered her,
clamping about him with inner muscles to draw him to climax and to reach desperately for her own
fleeting moment of happiness.
But there had been no foreplay. Incredibly, she felt herself gradually relaxing, lying still and open beneath
him, taking exquisite enjoyment from the rhythmic strokes with which he loved her. She had no idea how
many minutes passed but it seemed like a long, long time before she heard herself moaning and
realized that enjoyment had turned to a pleasurable ache and that he was going to take her over the edge
to peace and happiness without any active participation on her part. For a moment she considered
fighting such passivity, but the ache, the certainty that he was going to take her through it and past it to the
other side was too seductive to be denied.
She sighed and shivered beneath him as he made it happen and then with dreamy lethargy observed while
he completed his own journey toward comfort. It was a moment of happiness blissfully extended into
several moments a gift she accepted with quiet gratitude. The moments would pass, but for now they
were hers to hold in her body and her soul. They were like the peace that was supposed to come with
Christmas. And for these moments they would pass she loved him utterly. She adored him.
He moved off her and drew her against him again. They were both warm and sweaty. She breathed in
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
the smell of him.
"Comforted?" he asked softly.
"Mmm," she said.
"Sleep now, then," he told her.
"Mmm." Had she been just a little wider awake, perhaps she would have fought him since the suggestion
had been issued as a command. But she slid into instant obedience.
Chapter 11
«^»
Although it was the week before Christmas and life could not be said to be following any normal pattern,
neverthelessHelenabegan to have some inkling of how her life had changed. Permanently changed.
No longer would she travel almost constantly. The realization did not upset her enormously. Traveling
could be far more uncomfortable and tedious than those who only longed to do it could ever realize.
More disturbing was the understanding of why she had traveled and why she had never arrived at any
ultimate destination. She had traveled for escape. It was true that she had derived great pleasure from her
experiences, but never as much as she had hoped for. She knew finally, as she supposed she had known
all along, that she could never in this life and perhaps beyond this life, too leave behind the thing she
most wished to escape. She could never escape from herself. Wherever she went, she took herself with
her. Yes, she had known it before. She had known that she lived in her own particular hell.
She would live at Mobley Abbey much of the time from now on. Edgar explained to her that his ties with
his father had always been close ones and would undoubtedly remain so. For the rest of the time she
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pldoc.pisz.plpdf.pisz.plalternate.pev.pl
|
|
|
