know from where the vase had come. Each night he'd left a rose, sometimes red, sometimes white and once, a lovely black rose, the rare and magnificent blossom giving off the most incredible scent she'd ever experienced.
Oft times Hannah wondered where he got these beauties. There were none in the estate gardens that could match them for size or perfection.
This morning, however, the handful of posies and violets were perched upon her dresser, rather lonely and forlorn looking, drooping slightly, for there was no water in the vase. She picked it up to study the vessel more closely and realized that the crack in the vase was not a crack at all, but a grove, once filled with gold, now flaking away.
Tiny roses and cupids vied for space on the symmetrical surface, painted by a master craftsman. The gilding of gold on the Cupid's bow and the stem of each rose was still there.
Wondering where he had found such a treasure, she carefully filled the vase with water and set in by her bed, where she would see it first thing upon awakening. For the first time, she wished that she could speak to him and express her gratitude for the lovely gift.
He came to her that night at the prescribed hour, and she could smell the scent of his cologne, a new addition to his toilette. It stirred her senses, as it was meant to do, and she did not move quite so far across the bed. When he slid beneath the covers he was surprised to find her so near and took her into a tentative embrace, half expecting her to draw away.
She did not. Encouraged by her seeming acceptance of his wooing, he leaned toward her in the darkness and his mouth grazed along her temple, open and heated, his breath moist against her skin.
She turned her face up, and his mouth slid down her jaw seeking and finding her lips, parted and inviting him. David kissed her for the first time since their nights had begun—deeply and with longing. He ravaged her mouth, first tenderly, with tiny nips, and then with a thrust of his tongue, claiming her at last.
Drowning in the sensation of his kisses, Hannah could not think. She curved against him, her body betraying her, and his hands moving over her flesh warmed her, pulling her into a sensual vortex.
Yet when she heard herself moan in submission, sudden panic enveloped her. She knew well the painful consequences of allowing this, and her hands flailed about in the darkness, as she strove to gain purchase against his onslaught.
He lifted his mouth from hers and leaned back, drawing away long enough to grasp the hands that pushed against his shoulders, lifting them to his lips as always, for the greeting.
When he moved to take her back into his embrace she stiffened and swung her head back and forth, a silent no forming on her kiss-swollen mouth. Though he could not see her, he sensed her withdrawal and so fell back, giving her release from his touch.
He waited, breath shuddering, heart pounding against his ribs, need aching in his loins. The deep silence between them stretched for a long moment, and then she lay upon her back and lifted her garment. She, too, was waiting.
Ever faithful to his driving need, he searched among the bedclothes until he found her and moved into his performance, unable to gainsay his need. As he took her in a blaze of pounding lust, she stirred against him then retreated, and David knew she was holding back. He renewed his efforts, slowing his pace and trying to coax her beyond control.
Those tentative movements, however, did not come again and he spilled his seed into a vessel of quiet acceptance. Her tears dropped onto his flesh as he reclined there, her head turned into the curve of his shoulder. He lifted a hand to brush away the tears, and she turned sharply away from his touch.
His heart broke.
.
* * * * *
.
Hannah awoke to the sounds of the house. A dog barked somewhere on the lawn and the maids in the garden, picking vegetables for today's meals, giggled and chatted. A horse clattered along
Oft times Hannah wondered where he got these beauties. There were none in the estate gardens that could match them for size or perfection.
This morning, however, the handful of posies and violets were perched upon her dresser, rather lonely and forlorn looking, drooping slightly, for there was no water in the vase. She picked it up to study the vessel more closely and realized that the crack in the vase was not a crack at all, but a grove, once filled with gold, now flaking away.
Tiny roses and cupids vied for space on the symmetrical surface, painted by a master craftsman. The gilding of gold on the Cupid's bow and the stem of each rose was still there.
Wondering where he had found such a treasure, she carefully filled the vase with water and set in by her bed, where she would see it first thing upon awakening. For the first time, she wished that she could speak to him and express her gratitude for the lovely gift.
He came to her that night at the prescribed hour, and she could smell the scent of his cologne, a new addition to his toilette. It stirred her senses, as it was meant to do, and she did not move quite so far across the bed. When he slid beneath the covers he was surprised to find her so near and took her into a tentative embrace, half expecting her to draw away.
She did not. Encouraged by her seeming acceptance of his wooing, he leaned toward her in the darkness and his mouth grazed along her temple, open and heated, his breath moist against her skin.
She turned her face up, and his mouth slid down her jaw seeking and finding her lips, parted and inviting him. David kissed her for the first time since their nights had begun—deeply and with longing. He ravaged her mouth, first tenderly, with tiny nips, and then with a thrust of his tongue, claiming her at last.
Drowning in the sensation of his kisses, Hannah could not think. She curved against him, her body betraying her, and his hands moving over her flesh warmed her, pulling her into a sensual vortex.
Yet when she heard herself moan in submission, sudden panic enveloped her. She knew well the painful consequences of allowing this, and her hands flailed about in the darkness, as she strove to gain purchase against his onslaught.
He lifted his mouth from hers and leaned back, drawing away long enough to grasp the hands that pushed against his shoulders, lifting them to his lips as always, for the greeting.
When he moved to take her back into his embrace she stiffened and swung her head back and forth, a silent no forming on her kiss-swollen mouth. Though he could not see her, he sensed her withdrawal and so fell back, giving her release from his touch.
He waited, breath shuddering, heart pounding against his ribs, need aching in his loins. The deep silence between them stretched for a long moment, and then she lay upon her back and lifted her garment. She, too, was waiting.
Ever faithful to his driving need, he searched among the bedclothes until he found her and moved into his performance, unable to gainsay his need. As he took her in a blaze of pounding lust, she stirred against him then retreated, and David knew she was holding back. He renewed his efforts, slowing his pace and trying to coax her beyond control.
Those tentative movements, however, did not come again and he spilled his seed into a vessel of quiet acceptance. Her tears dropped onto his flesh as he reclined there, her head turned into the curve of his shoulder. He lifted a hand to brush away the tears, and she turned sharply away from his touch.
His heart broke.
.
* * * * *
.
Hannah awoke to the sounds of the house. A dog barked somewhere on the lawn and the maids in the garden, picking vegetables for today's meals, giggled and chatted. A horse clattered along
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