Kindred by P. J. Dean

burdens alone.
    Startled, Kindred grabbed up her dress. She had gotten to her room without a lamp and had not lit one when she’d entered her room knowing its layout by heart.
    “Lelaheo!” She sucked in air loudly. “You scared the hell out of me.”
    “We need to talk in depth about our situation.” He sat in the dark, in the ladder-back rocker by the window. He reached over to turn up the oil lamp. Light filled the room, illuminating all within. He rose and walked toward her. She withdrew, the door knob hitting her in the small of the back.
    “Please, Lelaheo.” She held out her arm to stop his advance. “Please leave. We should not be alone together like this.”
    Lelaheo pulled the dress form her grasp. He pried her from the door and swept her into his embrace. At their contact, Kindred inhaled abruptly. Caught in his arms, clad only in her shift, she felt both vulnerable and enticing. His ample hands traveled over her,
    slowly, deliberately. A sudden surge of excitement coursed through her.
    “Why not? My intentions are honorable.” He dropped his head down next to hers and nuzzled her ear. He closed his eyes and gave himself over to the tactile. His fingers slowly peeled the straps of her shift from her shoulders, then traced their curvature and the toned muscles of her arms. His hands claimed her waist next, testing how it flowed into nicely curved hips. He shuddered imagining how it would feel to hold her as she straddled him.
    “Lelaheo,” she managed faintly. Kindred, trembling at the emotions running rough shod over her, relaxed in his arms. He nibbled her ear and scattered kisses up and down her lithe neck. His actions added new dimensions to her exhilaration.
    “Kindred,” he whispered against her neck.
    “Love,” she breathed. “Listen to me. Stop for a moment.”
    Lelaheo exhaled loudly against her throat. He ceased kissing her, but kept his hold on her hips. He pulled back a bit to look at her.
    “How long will you be away?”
    “Perhaps one year and a half. At the very least one.”
    “What are we to do?”
    “I wish you could come with me. I shall miss your eyes.” He bent his head and kissed them. “You should be right there with me in class.”
    “That would be novel and ideal, but impractical. Twainhaven needs me.”
    “I do too.” He frowned, his eyes trained on her, under drawn brows. “I could remain here and be a gentleman farmer.”
    “And be bored.” She reached up with both hands and rubbed his face. “You were born to be a healer! And I will be by your side one day, helping you."
    “As husband and wife!“ He caught one of her hands and nuzzled the palm.
    “Are you asking for my hand in marriage?”
    “And the rest of you. Will you have me?”
    “Three days!” she sighed. “Not enough time.” Kindred laced her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to hers. “Yes, Lelaheo, but will you have me?
    “Yes, yes!” He declared between kisses. “You silly woman!”
    “Your woman,” she breathed against his lips.
    “My woman,” he stressed, claiming her mouth, crushing her to him.
    As Lelaheo enveloped her, her reasoning self cautioned them to stop, but her instinctive self craved his testing and exploring of her mind and body. She was following her granny’s advice. She was thinking with her heart. She desired him and intended to be with him completely this night. His slow, deliberate kisses should have sent her into a panic, but unexpectedly calmed her instead. On the edge of a new experience, she was strangely tranquil. As his tongue speared between her moist lips and sparred with hers, his hands strayed over the bare skin of her back and shoulders. His touch drained her of
    any diffidence.
    Feeling no resistance on Kindred’s part, Lelaheo dispensed with Dr. Twain’s advice. No. No sprints here. More a marathon. But most of all no false starts. All of his amorous effort kept them focused on the moment.
    “Kinny, Kinny, I, I want … you,” he