Christmas at Thornton Hall - Lynn Marie Hulsman

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lap. “Edward. You feel amazing.”

      “There’s my girl,” he said quietly into my ear, as I was sliding my hand up his sweater, stroking past the down on his chest, up to the muscles of his shoulders. “I knew you were in there somewhere.” He managed to untie and pull off my robe without casting off the quilts. I literally couldn’t wait for him to unbutton my pajamas. The need for his hands on my skin was loud in my head. I pushed his hand under my top, and to my surprise, boldly showed him how to touch me. I could feel how aroused he was, but he followed my lead, all attention on my body, teasing me exquisitely until teasing wasn’t good enough. I knelt over him, pushing his hand down into my pajama bottoms, panting “yes, like that,” and “no, do this,” until, with him looking right into my eyes, I rocked and shook the way I never had with any man.

      We disentangled and I gingerly lowered myself to his side, putting my arms around his neck, laying my ear on his chest to avoid looking at him. I could hear my own heavy breathing and I was embarrassed by how forward I’d just been.

      “I’m sorry if…” I began.

      “Don’t be sorry. That was beautiful,” he said to me, his voice vibrating through his sweater. “I’ve missed you. I didn’t know if you’d take a job here again, after our row.” He pulled back and took a long look at me. “You’re amazing, you know that. Promise you’ll let me do that again.”

      I started to say what a bad idea it was to fool around with your co-worker, and what a mistake it had been, but who was I kidding. I knew I’d crawl ten miles to let him.

      “Let you?” I said. “How about beg you?” I already felt starved for him. Inside my head, it felt like my brain had been replaced with warm, swirly, golden caramel. I couldn’t form a logical thought.

      “I have wanted that since the first minute I laid eyes on you,” I said, matter-of-factly. “When we met in the kitchen, I wanted to put my hands under your clothes and feel your bare skin.” My mouth was saying whatever it wanted, unedited. My body was in control; my rational mind had lost the battle.

      “That’s what I wanted,” he said simply.

      “Well what’re your thoughts on letting me do a few things to you?” I whispered into his ear, gliding my hand across his lap to check his mood. Signs pointed to a positive outcome. And with one fell swoop, he picked the pile of blankets and me up, knocking over one of the wine glasses in our wake, and ferried me easily to the bedroom, even though we were pretty evenly matched, height-wise.

      “My thoughts on that are impure,” he said, pulling his top off, exposing his calisthenics-shaped torso. “Filthy, in fact. Are you down with that?” In a split second, he was poised over me in a push-up, waiting for an answer.

      Well, Juliet, whatever plan you were supposed to be sticking to seems like it’s out the window. Who knew I was so fickle? But with his mouth, and his hands on me, and the feeling of his…

      “I have never been more down with anything in my life,” I said, rising up to meet him.

       Chapter Six

      I woke up, face down on an unfamiliar pillow, to the rattle of a dropped pot lid. Disoriented, and too tired to lift my head, I took in a deep breath. I smelled cinnamon and the faintest, musky scent of a man’s sweat.

      “Morning, Princess,” Edward said, padding toward me.

      Oh dear God, I’m in Edward’s bed. Is my brain broken? Am I missing a judgment gene? Instinctively I tried to mash myself further down into the mattress so as to go unnoticed. I tried to pretend I wasn’t there, but images from last night flashed across the IMAX screen in my head: running my tongue over the sleek muscle over Edward’s pelvic bone, the top of his head as he kissed a line down to my navel and below, his expression after he’d pulled me on top of him and I slowly lowered myself down, making him moan low and deep. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Um, Princess might be too strong a title. After my, uh, behavior last night, I may need a stint in finishing school.”

      Laughing, he said, “Proper ladies are dull. I’d rather be with you.”

      “Thanks. Maybe.”

      He leaned down, slid his hands under my shoulders and flipped me right over. “There’s my sexy girl,” he said. Before I could open my mouth to speak any kind of words that might justify my unrecognizable behavior from the night before, his soft warm lips were on mine. Instinctively, I felt myself tilting my chin and propping myself on my elbows to reach closer to him, unwilling to lose the lush sweetness of his mouth. When he stood upright, breaking the contact, it was excruciating.

      “Nooooo,” I heard myself whine. I snapped my eyes open to see Edward smiling and looking appreciatively at my naked breasts. I snatched the sheet upwards. Thank goodness it was still dark in his bedroom.

      “Not much point in that,” he teased. “I’m afraid the horse is out of the barn. I’ve seen every inch of you now.” I started to turn my head away, but he held my chin in his strong hand, forcing me to meet his eye. “Every inch. And you’re breathtaking.” He ran his hand from my jaw, over my throat and stopped in the middle of my chest, pinning me to the bed with a gentle pressure. “Besides, why would you want to hide two of the seven wonders of the modern world?”

      He released me, sliding his hand downward, pulling the sheet with it. My hands flew up to cover myself, but he caught them in both of his, holding them while he arched over, languidly kissing one of my breasts. My eyes closed, and I lay backward onto the pillow. He pulled his mouth away very slowly, the tip of his tongue the last part of him to lose contact with any part of me. Involuntarily, I cried out in protest. In a split second, his mouth was on my other breast sending an electric shock to the lower part of my belly. My hips rose up, and he pinned my body to the bed with his torso.

      Easing his lips off of my tingling skin, he whispered, “Are you hungry?”

      Oh, my god yes, famished, I thought, my eyes still closed. I could eat you alive.

      “I’m starved to death,” I said huskily, putting my arms around his neck.

      “Good, because I have pancakes with Nutella and cream started.”

      “Oh!” I said, mortified. “Yes. Breakfast. Yum!” I sat up, and tried to look like the kind of girl who might sit properly at the table, discussing the weather and politics, instead of the sex-crazy succubus I felt like inside. “Pancakes. Very kind of you.”

      Eyes dancing, he was already peeling his sweater over his head and kicking off his slippers. “Bad luck, breakfast has to wait now.” He slid his pajama bottoms to the ground, exposing his marble-hard thighs. “That little taste of you really whet my appetite,” he rolled onto the bed and threw back the sheet. “It’s all your fault for being so delicious.” Straddling me, he said, “Now I’m starving too.” He leaned over me brushing his stubble against my cheek, and whispered into my ear, “And pancakes aren’t what I’m looking for.”

      ****

      With my cheek resting on Edward’s broad bicep, and my arm draped across his chest, I began falling into a post-coital nap. For just that moment, the rest of the world fell away. There was no Stephen, no Ben, no Mother, no advanced degree to earn, no new career to get started on, and no empty kitchen waiting for me.

      This must be what Aunt Suze means when she talks about being fully present. If the roof caved in and killed me right now, I could die happy.

      “Much as I hate to move, I’d better get up if I’m going to send you off with a proper breakfast,” Edward said, gently moving my head to the pillow. “It’s 5:30. You’ll want a minute to go back to yours and dress so we can get to the kitchen on time. I don’t think Roth will accept ‘caught up in the throes of passion’ as an excuse for tardiness.”

      My stomach turned

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