She had the dim thought that if this was to be her last orgasm, at least it had been a world-class one.
Finally she was able to lift her hand and weakly wipe the tears from her cheeks. Why on earth was she crying? Getting there had been a Herculean effort, but the end result had been worth it.
Face down beside her left ear, Swain groaned. “God. I felt that all the way down to my toes.” He didn’t lever himself off her, just lay there getting heavier and heavier. Lily didn’t care. She wrapped her arms around him and held him as tight as she could.
“I’ll get up in a minute,” he promised in an exhausted voice.
“No,” Lily said, but he was already laboriously moving off her to lie on his side facing her. He put one hand on her waist and pulled her to him, cradling her close, her head lying on his shoulder and arm.
“The first round is now officially over,” he mumbled.
“I take it back. I don’t think I can handle a second round,” she managed to gasp, but his deep, even breathing told her he was already asleep. She took two deep breaths and felt herself sinking, joining him. For the first time in forever, she felt safe, wrapped tight in his arms.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lily woke in Swain’s arms, and felt as if she belonged there. She wished she could freeze time at that exact moment, so she never lost the sense of contentment and security. She didn’t let herself think about the possible disaster the day might bring; she would do what she had to do, so there was no point in worrying about it. If she was lucky, tonight would be spent the same way last night had been.
To her surprise, she’d been up for two more rounds, though she was so sore now she almost regretted it. Almost. He’d awakened her at two o’clock by turning on the lamp, because this time he wanted to see her. She’d been embarrassed by the state she was in, sticky from going to sleep without having cleaned up, but he’d proved beyond a doubt that other than where cars were concerned, he didn’t have a finicky bone in his body. “Sex is messy,” he’d said with a slow smile as he’d hauled her back when she’d tried to leave the bed to go clean up. “And I’m the cause of it, so why should I mind?”
Having the lamp on didn’t bother her, though somehow he’d known the first time would be easier for her in the darkness. She was thirty-seven, not a spring chicken, but she stayed in shape and her body type was naturally lean and small-breasted, so even when some parts started sagging, as they inevitably would, they couldn’t sag very far. Certainly Swain seemed to appreciate every inch of her.
Climaxing the second time was easier, as if her body had remembered how. She wasn’t as tense or desperate, plus Swain made it fun with his unabashed pleasure and very vocal appreciation. Afterward they had showered together, and she spread towels over the wet spots on the sheets before they got back into bed and slept for another couple of hours.
The third time, just after five o’clock, had been long and slow, all sense of urgency gone. She barely remembered stumbling back to bed afterward, and she had slept so soundly that if she dreamed, she didn’t recall. Sunlight now spilled around the edges of the heavy curtains, making her wonder what time it was, but she didn’t care enough to roll over and look at the clock.
He made an indistinct noise that was half sleepy man and half grumbly bear, then lifted her hair and kissed the back of her neck. “Morning,” he rumbled, then nestled her closer.
“Good morning.” She loved feeling all that muscular warmth at her back, loved the feel of his leg thrust between hers and the weight of his arm as he settled it back around her waist.
“Do I still have to drive that Fiat?” He sounded as if he were only half-conscious, but the subject had to be important to him for it to be the first thing he thought about upon awakening.
She patted his arm, glad her back was to him so he couldn’t see her smile. “No, you get to drive any type of car you want.”
“I was that good, huh?” he asked smugly, more awake now.
He deserved something better than a pat on the arm for that, so she reached back and patted his butt. “You were spectacular,” she said with a faintly monotonous, mechanical drone in her voice. “Your technique was fabulous, and your penis is the largest I’ve ever seen. I am the luckiest woman in the world. This is a recording-”
He rolled over on his back and shouted with laughter. Lily slid out of bed and escaped to the bathroom while he was laughing, before he could retaliate. She looked at herself in the mirror and halted, struck by the softness of her features. One night of sex and she looked rejuvenated?
It wasn’t the sex, she realized, though the deep relaxation of her body was a wonderful plus. It was Swain himself, the tenderness and consideration with which he’d treated her, and the feeling that she mattered to someone. It was the closeness, the link, the not being alone. For months now she had felt totally alone, removed from the world she could see around her as if nothing and no one could touch her, surrounded by a moat of pain and grief. Swain’s enthusiasm, his personality, had pulled her out of that solitude, once again connected her with life.
Oh, damn, she was definitely falling in love with him. What a silly thing for her to do right now, with everything that was happening, but how could she stop it? She couldn’t walk away, she needed his help, but even more she didn’t want to walk away. She wanted everything he could give her, every minute. She couldn’t even worry about whether he would be there forever, because what was forever? Today might be the extent of it for her, or tomorrow. All she had was now, and that was good enough.