Page 33 of Margins of Love
“The flower blooms inside this calyx,” she picked one and pinched its stem to hold it up. Then she turned the poor flower upside down. “It resembles a Chinese paper lantern hanging upside down from the vine. Sometimes, when the sun dries out the calyx, and only the veins of it remain, you can see the delicate white flowers inside, like in a cage.” Her index finger pointed at the seams of the calyx when she looked at Fave, pleased with her delivery of the fine points of botany.
He held her intelligent stare, willing to grant her the moment to lecture. She must have needed to buy herself time to gather her senses. But she could not escape him. For the first time in his life, he was planning to live up to his reputation as a seducer. He gave her his best crooked smirk and hoped he could convince her before placing a tender kiss on the apple of her cheek.
Had it worked?
She blushed and raised a brow. “These are plants that have been cultivated by the ancient Incas. They were brought here by a ship.”
Ah, more trivia.
Victory was near.
CHAPTER24
Fave’s body longed for hers, but he controlled himself and indulged her shyness. While he watched her step on a few rocks to reach a flower to smell, all he could think about was the fire raging within him. How he wanted to kiss her neck and the top of her shoulder, that bit of skin he could see. All his senses had burned to ashes, and he had forgotten about his duties and obligations as a Cohen.
“Hui!” she uttered as she lost her footing and fell.
He had been ravaging her with his eyes, barely close enough to catch her.
She tried to bypass his gaze, and he knew she must have feared him. He certainly felt like a lion considering the best point of attack for his prey. And prey on her he would, he thought with a pang in his chest. But here she was, in his arms again, breathless from her near fall. He put her down against the tree as if she were a precious fragile treasure. And oh, did he know how to handle precious jewels! He specialized in the fanciest diamonds, clearest rubies, and brightest sapphires. Surrounded by cherry blossoms and their heady scent, her eyes darted wide open, and a pool of green-brown sparkles invited him to dive in and lose himself in her.
She leaned back against the tree and twitched. “I think there is a pebble in my shoe.”
Without saying a word, Fave fell to his knees to aid his damsel in distress. He was tired of being toyed with, tired of the delays, and ready for gratification. He looked up at her and judging by her frowns, she knew it was an erotic game, postponing the inevitable.
Fave took off her shoe, set it aside, and reached under her gown. He rolled down her thin stockings and put them aside, too. Then he looked at her, hoping for permission to proceed.
His hands trailed up her arms to her face. He cupped her beautiful cheeks and felt her racing heartbeat. Having this effect on her gave him the most satisfying and provoking rush. He leaned down for a kiss and let his hands fall away. He did not have any right to touch her so, but she permitted it, and he needed to.
She slightly opened her mouth, and he felt her tongue on his lower lip. Her hands combed through his hair and rested on his neck, pulling him closer. The attraction was magnetic, irresistible.
His arms reached around her and their fingers interlaced again. But it was not like before, not the shy sweaty touch. This time it was urgent. Desire pressed him into his breeches. It hurt. He was frustrated and realized why. No fencing match with Arnold would satisfy him. Only Rachel could. But did he dare?
Their hands arched over her head and her breasts leaned toward him. He kept her arms like that and pinned her against the trees with a deeper kiss. Their mouths explored each other, and he felt the straight line of her bright white teeth. Her face was narrowly arranged to emphasize every bit of her femininity and perfection.
He stopped the kiss to look her in the eyes and smiled. His boyish wide grin melted her, and she let herself fall into his arms. She was soft in his arms, yet sturdy against his pressure. He slid down her dress. When her breasts were bared to the moonlight, it was nearly his undoing. He would surely be excused for all eternity if he had made love to her lush suppleness—but he did not. He had too much respect for his traditions. And maybe he had been too used to torturing himself with denial. For that was how he thought life would be in which he had not felt this goddess of beauty, softness, and heat. And so, he could not deny himself any longer and he leaned over and rested his kisses on her clavicle—not daring to go lower toward the area that he deemed the point of no return. How could this be wrong when she felt so wonderful? He held her in his arms and untied the laces that fastened her corset. Slowly, he lifted her out of the bundle that had been her dress on the wet grass. She nearly floated onto his body and her hand slid into his shirt, under the fabric covering his chest.
“I… Ehm…” she began.
“Please, touch me. Everywhere and anywhere,” he rasped at her timid smile.
She had the air of a girl who had seen lighting, which flattered him immensely. He disrobed in less than a split second, and took his place against her body, holding her close. She was hot, but the surface of her skin felt cool, and she shivered under his kisses.
They tumbled down onto their pile of shed clothes. He broke her fall, which was more of an elegant melting. Her breasts swelled under this gaze.
Then a raindrop fell on his face. And hers. She blinked.
“Oh no.” He dropped his head into the cradle of her breasts.
Her hands dug into his hair, and she pressed his head closer to her heart, saying, “I don't mind.”
He felt her smile even though his eyes were shut, wanting to make this moment last. Forever would not be long enough. Indefinitely would be too vague. An eternity seemed an understatement.
Then thunder.
And more raindrops.
They looked up, realizing time was not on their side. Within minutes, they would be soaked to their bones.
