The Lighthouse (Closed Thread)

[dr_mabeuse]

He takes one last look at her standing in the firelight, then opens the door and steps out into the storm. Fuck it, he thinks. It's not his game; he could only lose if he sticks around.

The storm has changed since he came down. The lightning and thunder have died down but the wind is now a ferocious gale that threatens to blow his legs out from under him with every step. The surf is crashing on the rocks with shocking violence, every third or fourth wave hitting like an explosion he can feel through the cround. The rain and sleet that stings his face is salty, the ice crystals feel like razors, and as soon as he leaves shelter of the lighthouse he realizes the ground is an intractable mess of ice and slush.

He's almost to the causeway, battling for every step, when he remembers that he'd disabled her car. He looks back at the house, the rain streaming down his face. He has to replace that cable; he can't leave her like this.

He looks back at the causeway and realizes that he'll never make it anyhow in this weather. It's no more than a mile and a half to the road, but it might as well be fifty. The old causeway is thick with rime and sleet, the ancient lamps that light it are shuddering dangerously in the wind, and as he watches he sees the lights dim, flicker, and then go out.

It is absolute pitch darkness. He can't tell sea from sky from ground. Everything is rain and sleet. He turns back to where he thinks the house should be, just in time to see a light go on. Rita must have lit a lamp.

He staggers back to the house and bangs on the door. Shew opens it and he steps inside, water streaming off of him as he stands there shivering.

"I reconsidered." he said. "Maybe I'll stay after all."

 

[Annabelllee2003]

When he left, Rita just stood there for a while. Thinking of all that has happened since the storm started. Thinking of Neal, Edward, the money. She is so tired. When the lights go out, she goes to the kitchen for the hurricane lamp. Moving back to the living room she lights it and places it on the coffee table, it’s flickering glow throwing a warm soft light in the room.

Finally taking off her slicker, she hangs it by the door and lights a candle from the mantle. Taking it to her bedroom she shrugs out of her clothes and dons a heavy robe. Just as she is moving to turn the shower, she hears the pounding at the door.

“Guess he didn’t leave after all,” she thinks as she opens the door.

"I reconsidered." he said. "Maybe I'll stay after all."

“Get out of your wet stuff. I was going to get a shower before the water gets cold, but it looks like you need it more than me. You know the way… There’s a robe on the back of the door.

“When you’re done, we can eat.” Turning away from him, she lights another candle from the mantle and hands it to him. And with nothing else said, she starts into the kitchen to light another lamp and heat the soup.

Well, we’re a fine pair she thinks. A failed blackmailer and an embezzler. Now both probably on the edge of being found out. If it were Edward that Neal has seen watch her. Damn. What now. Banging a couple of bowls on the table, she’s frustrated. Is it too late to fix things? Put the money back? No way. She’d face a lengthy jail sentence.

And Neal. What brought him back? The weather? Probably. Cutting some bread, she stops. Aw hell. Just going to have to modify her original plan. Push up the timetable. And figure out what to do with Neal. Soon as the weather clears, she will begin the transactions.

Hearing Neal come into the kitchen, she turns and motions for him to sit pressing her lips together to prevent laughter in seeing him in her flowered robe. Dishing up the soup, she looks at him again as he slowly starts to eat. He must have had a razor in his bag. He shaved. Brave soul, shaving by the light of a candle. She almost laughs when she sees a little cut on his chin.

“What do you want to drink? Got milk, wine, Pepsi… Your choice Neal.”

 

[dr_mabeuse]

"Whatever you're having. Preferably hot." he said. "It's terrible out there. Just incredible."

He tasted some of the soup and glanced up at her. "But that's not why I came back."

It was her turn to look at him. "You're right, you know." she said. "This really isn't your problem. You don't have to do this."

"I know." he said.

He ate some more of the soup, tore some bread off the load and chewed on it thoughtfully. "Look, if Bern comes here--if he's crazy enough to come here tonight, which I doubt--it'll be best if I'm here with you. Whatever he's up to, he wouldn't be dumb enough to do it with me here. So I can at least offer that much protection. I guess I'm good for that much."

"Now let me build up the fire. I'll sleep on the couch. You can have the bed."

 

[Annabelllee2003]

Rinsing and loading the dishes into the dishwasher, Rita had ample time to think of his words. She just doesn’t read him. From would-be kidnapping blackmailer to reluctant protector. She doesn’t think he’s a bad man. Blowing out the kitchen lamp, she hesitates in the dark. Moving into the living room she sees him squatting before the fire, lost in thought.

“So, you’ll stay tonight and be on your way tomorrow?” she said to his back. “And you won’t make any trouble for me. Just walk away?”

“Yep,” he answers, standing.

“And you’ll fix my car before you leave, right?”

“Yes, it’s just the coil.”

“Yeah, whatever that is. I’d appreciate it. Good night.” With that she turned and went to her bedroom.

With the electricity off, she took a tepid shower. The cottage was getting really cold. She runs into bed and burrows under the covers. Her hand under the pillow finds something. She brings it out and rolls her eyes when she sees it’s a pair of her panties and bra. “Christ, he really tried to scare the shit out of me.”

She lay there. And lay. Her mind unwilling to shut down and sleep. She listens to the sleet hit the windows and turns every thing over in her mind. Edward. Is it he? Tossing and turning. It’s cold in here. She gathers her comforter and makes her way to the living room. Neal is a lump on the sofa in the flickering glow of the fire. Sinking in front of the fire she pokes it a bit to coax more heat from it.

Meep, Meep. Feeling ice in her belly, she knee walks to her purse and fishes out her phone. She doesn’t say a word when she thumbs the send, just listens.

“Rita, you’ve been a bad girl.” Horribly shaken, she snaps the phone shut. She looks to where Neal is on the couch. He didn’t move a muscle.

Turning off her phone, she huddles in front of the fire. Scared. Much more scared than when Neal started this. It was dawn when she finally slept. Lines of anxiety marred her face and deep shadows could be seen under her eyes. But she slept.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

It wasn't much of a dawn; the sky goes from black to gray and stays there, and afer a break in the rain that lets him see just how bad the caauseway and rock are iced up, the sleet and rain start again blowing almost horizontally against the light house. As far as he can see the ocean is white foam, the waves hitting the rocks so hard that the splash reaches to the bedroom window where the window is coated with more than an inch of ice.

He wasn't surprised to see Rita sleeping by the fire when he woke up. The whole place was freezing since the power went off. This was a light house though, and he knew that there must be an auxillary power supply somewhere. He found it at the base of the light tower and spent most of the morning trying to get it started. Finally before noon he was successful and the place began to warm up.

He took a wonderfully hot shower after the water warmed up. One the radio they heard that the entire area was snowed in, roads impassable, people urged to stay indoors. Power had gone out in pockets all up and down the coast and crews were stretched thin trying to keep up with the downed lines and iced-over transformers. People were dying out there.

Several times he made an effort as if to leave, but he never quite made it. There always seemed to be one last thing to do: get her car started, board up a window that had cracked in the gale, replace the tarp over the pile of firewood. Stuff rags into some of the more serious leaks in the window frames.

They didn't talk much during the day, at least not about what had seemed so important yesterday. Instead it was as if they were circling the wagons against a common enemy: the weather outside. By the time they sat down in the afternoon to have some coffee and food she still hadn't told him about the phone call.

 

[Annabelllee2003]

When Neal got the electricity going, Rita finally put her phone in the charger, careful to make sure it was turned off. She did a good job of not thinking about the phone call in the wee hours of the morning, and still debated whether to let Neal know of it.

Sitting down for a meal with him, she still considered. Granted the weather was atrocious, and he really couldn’t leave, but even so he seemed reluctant. She liked how he kept busy. Doing little chores to insure their comfort.

But the money. Edward. They hadn’t talked of those things. By mutual consent it seems. Near the meal’s end, she brought it up obliquely.

“Nice touch, my undies under my pillow Neal.” She had the satisfaction of seeing him flush.
Then regretted it. Seems she always has had a knack for saying the wrong thing. Then she fought the resentment. He did abduct her more or less. Damn. The situation was getting to her.

He’d been nice all day. She was even starting to like him. Sighing, she gathers the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

“Neal,” she started, “… you want to drink this by the fire?” nodding toward the coffee. The words of the phone call just wouldn’t go past her lips. She is warring inside. At his nod, she carries the mugs to the living room and lowers herself to the sofa, legs folded beneath her.

The silences were so easy earlier. Now the silence was deafening. Rita finds herself watching him as he stares into the fire and she can’t find a way to break the silence. For all the weirdness of the past two days, she finds she doesn’t want to see him leave. His protection, undoubtedly. She feels safer with him here. Especially since the phone call.

After Edward, she can’t trust men. But she could use them. At least that is what she tells herself. Her scheming mind hems and haws over ways to get him to stay. Threatening him with Edward didn’t seem to have an effect. Edward has her cell phone number, and according to Neal has been following her movements. She will have to make a break when the weather clears. Neal could be an asset.

Chewing the nail on her thumb in unconscious nervousness, Rita considers seducing him. He’s attracted to her, she knows. Might he feel obligated then? It may work, she thinks, remembering how he was unable to go through with his plan, and his decency today. How to set it in motion?

“Neal, I think I will sleep out here by the fire again. I’m spooked. These last two days have me nervous and so long as you’re here, I’d just as soon not be alone.”

There, let him make what he would of that.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

“Neal, I think I will sleep out here by the fire again. I’m spooked. These last two days have me nervous and so long as you’re here, I’d just as soon not be alone.” she said.

He shrugged. "Sure. I'll sleep on the floor. You can have the sofa."

"That's all right." she said. "The sofa opens out into a bed. No one has to sleep on the floor."

He looked at her, but she had turned and was going to the bedroom to get her blankets. Did she know what she was proposing? How could she not? Neither of them had a sleeping bag; there would be nothing to separate them physically. They would be sleeping together.

Still uncertain about her motivations, he opened the sofa-bed and spread his blankets over it. He took off his boots and socks and his flannel shirt, stood up and put some wood on the fire and poked it around to get it going.

Of course he'd been attracted to her from the start. He'd been attracted to her since their days at Bern & Bern, and his little bondage session with her had excited him terribly. But sex had seemed the very last thing on her mind, and after being totally ignored at work, and rejected out of hand here, he couldn't believe that her feelings for him had suddenly changed because of a botched extortion attempt.

A woman like her who would take up with her boss was probably not above using her body to get to other men as well, and he knew that. But what did she need him for? Was she really so spooked about Edward? Was there more to their relationship than just office fun? Might he really want to hurt her now?

He didn't know. But he did know he was not above letting himself be used to get what he wanted. If she thought she was going to use him, there was no reason why he couldn't use her as well.

He got up from the fire and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to come out from the bedroom. He wanted to see what she would wear, if she would keep her clothes on or not. And just how she intended for them to share this bed.

 

[Annabelllee2003]

Rita took a quick shower using her favorite shower gel and debated on what she would wear, settling on a pair of satin pajamas. She brushed her teeth and came back into the living room carrying a comforter and some pillows.

Her thought was to not make it so obvious that she was seducing him. Maybe just clues, subtle. She knows she looks good in the pj’s. They were dark blue and suited her, enhancing her breasts with a slightly tailored waist. They don’t scream seduction in the normal sense.

She tosses the pillows at the foot of the bed nearest the fire and spread the fluffy comforter over the top shooing him off until it’s spread flat. She lays on top of the covers her head at the end of the bed watching the fire, chin propped on her hands, and very aware of him.

“I love watching the fire. I’ve spent many nights here like this… Can you get the light?” Watching him, shirtless, in jeans... she goes on, "I have a pair of jogging shorts you could wear, if you would be more comfortable."

 

[dr_mabeuse]

He has to tear his eyes away from her as she emerges from the bathroom in her pajamas, washed, her hair brushed, smelling of the shower and womanly frangrance.

He knows now what her intentions are. There is no way she could be so oblivious to her effect on him, unless she were just sadistic. Telling him she'd be sleeping in the same room with him was one thing. Saying she'd share a bed was more suggestive still. But now, coming out looking as she did: there's no doubt she intends to seduce him, or for him to "seduce" her.

Besides, there's no way he could resist her looking as she does now even if she didn't want it to happen. She asks him if he wants some shorts but he hardly hears her. She flops down on the sofa bed facing the fire, her pert ass as tempting as anything he's ever seen, and she stares into the fire, lost in thought.

He couldn't help himself as he went and sat beside her and the smooth satin of her pajamas just drew his hands like a magnet. He began to massage her neck as if in a trance, and it wasn't until she moaned in pleasure that he realized what he was doing.

"Oh...er...sorry." he said. "I just thought you might be tense."

"Oh, don't stop." she said, putting her face on her hands. "That feels so good."

He might have said the same thing. Her body was well-muscled but wonderfully soft and warm, and the satin slid across her skin in the most delicious and erotic way. He actually found knots of tension up in her shoulders, and he worked these away with firm but gentle strokes, working his hands with a slow steady rhythm that made her body move on the bed in a very sensual manner, as if she were being fucked slow and hard.

When he finished with her shoulders he worked his way down her back, her spine, her ribs. "Oh God that feels good." she breathed. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"A girl I knew was a masseuse." he said. "She taught me."

He smiled. "I'm just getting started."

After he finished with her back he went to work on her legs, her calves, her ankles, then moving up to her thighs. By now they were both breathing hard, and several times he'd seen her tongue come out and lick across her pink lips. He'd lied about the girl. He was operating on pure instinct and an urge to touch her, but it seemed fine with her.

By the time he got to the insides of her thighs she couldn't keep from rotating her ass a bit, making his heart beat faster. He caressed her thighs and she opened her legs for him.

He moved on to her behind, squeezing and kneading the firm flesh of her buttocks, working up to the small of her back. He knew that she could feel everything he was doing in her sex, and he knew she must be terribly aroused by now, because he certainly was. Several times he'd had to stop to adjust his cock because of his straining erection. As he worked on her ass she reached back a hand, searching for him, just wanting to touch him. She finally found his knee and just rested her hand on it.

Her moans now were blatantly sexual as he manipulated her buttocks, and there was nothing uncertain about the way he slid his hand down toher crotch now and massaged her pussy, feeling how warm and damp she was. When he touched her she moaned lously and lifted her hips to give him better access, and he felt the muscles in her ass and thighs work as she strained to make him touch her harder.

The fire was hot, the light golden on her face and hair. Her eyes were half-closed and dimmed with lust and she fucked her hips back against his hand shamelessly, gasping and groaning with the effort. His own head was pounding and it was all he could do to keep from jumping on her right now.

"Okay," he said thickly. "Turn over. It's time to do the other side."

 

[Annabelllee2003]

Her body is more than responsive as his hands move over her shoulders. As he kneads the knots, she almost purrs with contentment. When he works his way down to her back and ribs she relaxes more, her body moving under his hands, unconsciously encouraging. She murmurs at him and barely hears his reply as he shifts lower to concentrate on her legs and calves.

When he gets to her thighs, she catches her breath and a moan escapes her lips. The massage has gone from therapeutic to sensual to exciting as his hands knead and caress her.

Her legs part and she feels the wetness that’s gathering in her pussy when he starts working the satin-clad flesh of her ass. Needing contact, her hand gropes back to touch him.

Her eyes are slit and darkened with wanton hunger. When his hand connects with her pussy, a wanton wail snakes through the room and her hips rise to accommodate his touch. Her hips move in the slow, ancient buck-shuffle as she moves down, pressing herself more firmly against his hand.

"Okay, turn over. It's time to do the other side." She hears his voice, husky and is brought out of her haze a little.

It seems no seduction was necessary on her part. She is rather stunned at the passion his touch has aroused in her. She turns and looks at him, her eyes dark and luminous in the flickering firelight. His face is tense but open, allowing his need to show. Her eyes drop to his crotch and note the prominent bulge of his erection.

There is no doubt in her mind that she wants him, the feeling pushes out from her chest and pussy in waves.

Dry mouthed with longing, she turns the rest of the way over thereby offering her front to his ministrations.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

The desire in her eyes is real, as is the desire in his own. Her lips are moist and parted, inviting him, but he is enjoying the delightful agony of denying himself the pleasures of her flesh.

His eyes hold hers as he slowly unbuttons the top of her pajamas, the halves popping apart as he opens the buttons that bind her breasts. He works his way down, one button at a time, watching the firelight play over her face. He sees much in her expression: desire, lust, excitement, but also fear and confusion.

He may not be good at much, he thinks, but he knows how to make love. He has a deep appreciation for the wonders of a woman's body and the self-control to arouse her to a fever of need. No tricks, no special techniques. He just loves what he's doing and it shows in his touch and in his eyes.

It shows in her eyes as well. She didn't expect to be this much in need, this desperate for the feel of his body upon hers. She had thought she would give him a quick roll in the sack, enough to make him want more so that he'd stick around. But after the fear, the excitement, the uncertainty and tension at what she'd gotten herself into, she desperately needed sexual relief. She ached for the security of a man's embrace and the feel of his hardness inside her, wanting her. The violence of his passion, the emotional release.

She bites her lip in impatience as he finishes with the buttons and flings the jacket wide, exposing her chest. He puts his hands to her throat and slowly drags them downand across her chest, around the outside of her breasts and then together below them, liftingthem on the back of his hands. He tunrs his hands and holds her, then lets her flesh ooze from his fingers. What she sees in his eyes excites her terribly. She remembers when Edward looked at her like that, but always with a hint of cruelty, a look of greed. All she sees in Neals face is desire and awe at her beauty.

He leans forward and licks her breasts, slowly, thoroughly, beginning at the bottoms and working his way up until he has covered themn all with licks and soft love bites, all except her nipples, which are now hard and aching. He does not touch them.

He reaches down and pulls on the cuffs of her bottoms, and she helps him by raising her hips anmd wiggling out of them. He pulls them off with the soft sglide of silk against her skin and tosses them aside.

She lies there, naked from the waist down, her hips grinding softly against the mattress like an engine idling as it waits for someone to step on the gas. He just looks at her, drinking her in.

She can't wait any longer. "Don't tease me any more, Neal." she says. "Fuck me. God, I need you so much!"

He reaches out and touches her nipples now, pinching them softly and she groans and arches her back up sharply towards his touch. He lets go of her and stands up, shucks off his pants and shorts, revealing his cock, hard and swollen.

At the sight of it Rita's hand wanders down to her pussy and she begins to play with herself idly, imagining him plunging inside of her. Her eyes plead with him. Can't he see how she needs him?

He climbs on the bed and she opens her legs shamelesslym grips him with her calves as he gets on his knees between her thighs. For the first time he kisses her and she rises off the bed to pull him closer to her, wrapping her arms around his neck, opening her mouth wide and sucking his tongue in to plunder her mouth. At the same time she feels the head of his cock find the entrance to her body and press forward.

"Yes!" she hisses and he leans his weight onto her, driving his cock into her in one smooth stroke, making a way for himself through her tight wet flesh. She cries out as he enters her, but only for a moment, then she wraps her legs around him and pulls him to her, wanting to feel all of him.

 

[Annabelllee2003]

Straining against him, she holds him, her heels crossed and pressing his ass down on her. The slick depths of her pussy grasp his cock in rhythmic contractions urging him further inside. Her arms move to snake around his torso pulling him tightly to her, mashing her breasts against his chest.

His hands find her ass to press upward, accommodating her need to be filled fully and they lay like that. No thrusting, no movement except a light rocking motion that stimulates her clitoris and causes still more contractions around his cock. Her mouth finds his shoulder and her nips and kisses match perfectly the motion.

Neal plays her, rocking side-to-side, forward and back, slowly building her heat. He’s gifted with the ability to hold himself in check for long, long liquid bouts of fucking without coming. She’d wanted to be fucked and by god, he’d fuck.

Languid movements designed to inflame, he pushes against her more forcibly. Her hands ball into fists on his back and pound slowly to his beat against her. He hears her moaning, feels her upwards straining and pushes harder, flexing his cock with his movements. When he feels her start to quicken to orgasm, he stops, easing the pressure on her pussy.

How he plays. His hands roam from her ass to her hips, lightly teasing. The groan of frustration he hears from her is like music. Her hands strike him once on the back in frustrated, abortive tension.

Moving his hands up to brace himself he rises to look down at her. Her pupils are dilated and he can see a rapid pulse in her throat. Rita lifts off the mattress to kiss him, her need palpable. She doesn’t ever remember feeling such covetous desire. Thrown off balance, she is reeling in the sensations he’s created. Then she acts.

Unwinding her legs from his ass, without losing his lips or his cock she rolls over, until she straddles him. Breaking her kiss off she pushes up, her hands on his chest to ride him.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

She was delicious, and he hadn't realized he'd wanted her so much, but the feel of her around him made him groan with pleasure. Even more exicting than that was the way she reacted. From her expression, from her body language, he could tell that she was surprised at how good he felt as well. She lifted towards him and pulled him to her, arching her back to him and gasping.

He took it easy, took it slow, and the more excited she got, the more determined he was to make it last, just basking in her, enjoying the way she rolled her hips slightly at him, the way her fists beat on his back at first in encouragement, and then in frustration.

He knew that she wanted him hard and fast, that she wanted to feel the kind of passion and fury she herself felt. She was wound up tighter than she'd thought, and all that tension and fear needed a release. She needed to feel his strength and desire.

Suddenly she lost patience with him. If he wouldn't give her what she wanted, she would take it herself. She levered herself up on her elbow and he knew what she wanted. He helped her roll over so that he was on the bottom, then rearranged himself on the bottom as she leaned over him with her hands on his chest. He knew that he would last even longer on the bottom without having to do the thrusting.

She knew he was surprised and that he was looking at her face, but she didn't care. She was beyond shame and beyond trying to prove anything. What mattered to her was taking him deep and hard and igniting that need inside her, blowing it away in the hard, full-body orgasm that she felt already building inside of him.

She leaned forward, feeling him push deep inside her, and revolved her hips, stirring him around in her. Her control was exquisite; she moved like a belly dancer over his cock. She reached back down to feel where he entered her body and squeezed his cock, held it upright and lifted herself several times then dropped back down on him, grunting in pleasure.

"God you feel good!" she breathed. "And I need this so much!"

He lay back and watched her as she drew her feet up and squatted over him, then began to move up and down on his cock, faster and faster, the slick sounds of him pumping into her loud in their ears. In her hunger she reached down to herself and began to rub her clit, her eyes closed, her mouth open, her hair hanging wantonly in her face. But soon it was too much for her, and she needed both hands to hold herself erect on his body.

She leaned back suddenly, panting for breath, looking at him with disbelieving eyes. "Aren't you ever going to come?" she asked him.

In answer he reached out and slipped his fingers between them, finding her wetness and pressing against her clit. His touch drew a groan from her and she leaned forward again and started pumping. Buther strength was going. She was alamost there but she couldn't maintain the rhythm, and she fell forward on him gasping for breath.

Now he was ready. He grabbed her ass and rolled out from under her, turning her easily on her back and she grunted in surprise. He pushed her knees back against her breasts, rocking her hips up to take him deeper and his toes clawed into the sheets as he pushed himself into her as far as he could go.

"Yes! Yes!" she gasped, "Fuck me hard! Do it! Do it!"

And he did. Holding her ass to pull her tight he began to slam into her with all his power, driving deep wiuth every stroke, mashing her labia flat and scrubbing against her clit. She quickly rose to a level of unbearable excitement. She could no longer fuck him back, could no longer move, couldn't do anything but lie there and absorb his punishing blows. She knew she was close. She was very close. She just needed one little push...

"Oh Fuck!" he moaned, "I'm going to come, Rita! I'm going to come, baby! I can't stand it, you're gonna make me come!"

She squealed with delight at his lewd words. She felt him swell within her as he pushed deep and his body went rigid, all his muscles tensed and trembling, and the feel of him like that, the knowledge that he was about to explode in her put her over the edge.

She screamed as her pleasure broke over her like a tidal wave, pushing her down and tumbling her over in dark waters of pleasure. Dimly she felt him pump into her, each pump accompanied by a jolt of wet heat inside her as he ejaculated, moaning and growling.

No sooner did she gain her wits than her body swept her up again into another arc of searing pleasure, colors bursting behind her closed eyes just as his come burst into her pussy. She held onto him with all her might, feeling him put all his male power behind every explosion of semen into her, hot, violent, passionate.

She rode that cloud of rapture, thinking of nothing, feeling everything, as he finally slowed, his body began to relax, and they lay there gasping in each others' arms

 

[Annabelllee2003]

Spiraling down from the staggering heights of exhilarating release, Rita is astounded at the intensity of what was shared. She’s never been multi-orgasmic before. Her pussy is still twitching and spasming in aftershock response, reluctant to release his cock.

He’s moved so his full weight is on her, still in her. They stay joined, resting until their breathing slows. With a groan Neal finally rolls off her bringing her to rest in the hollow of his shoulder and arm. He’s spent. She hears his heartbeat thud-thudding then slowing to a more relaxed state.

She can feel his cum oozing from her and smells the heady scent of sex. She wants to tell him what he’s made her feel, but she doesn’t. The desire to keep the moment, to stay just as she is, is more important. She snuggles further into him and they drift off.

Some time in the night when the chill wakes him, Neal eases her off his shoulder and rises, Rita sighs but doesn’t wake. The hand that reached for him in sleep is brought up to her neck. Watching her, Neal is a little nonplussed at the tenderness he feels for her. ‘Certainly a turn of events,’ he thinks as pads into the little half bath.

When he returns he switches off the light and climbs back into bed with her drawing up the covers and bringing Rita back into his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~


Dawn finds Rita opening her eyes. The events of the night remembered as she realizes she’s pressed against Neal’s side with her leg thrown over him. Quietly moving away she gets out of the sofa bed and slides on her pajama top.

In the kitchen she fills the coffee maker, careful to not make noise that would wake him. She stands on the cold kitchen tile and reflects on the night. Her body remembers certainly. She’s sore in that pleasant way that speaks of great sex. Her pussy remembers – and she feels a tightening as she stands reliving the passion. She heads to the bathroom to shower.

She never expected to have the high passion. She colors a bit thinking of how slutty she acted. He seems to have turned the table on her. Neal’s unexpected expertise and actions took control quite nicely out of her hands. She’d expected a pleasant romp. She got the fucking of her life.
She has no idea what this is going to mean in the scheme of things.

Standing under the scalding water, her mind turns toward the major problem at hand. They’ll have to talk. Seriously talk. She doesn’t examine her feelings for Neal directly. Perhaps she’s unwilling to know how much he has affected her.

Standing in her bedroom, she ponders how much she wants to go back into the living room and crawl back beside him. She wants to go back into the wondrous oblivion they shared the night before. A mental shake of her head and she dresses warmly in flannel and leggings.

As she passes through the living room she notes he’s still fast asleep. Rita gets a cup of coffee and eases into the rocker, sipping and watching him. He looks vulnerable; his face soft and relaxed, his hair in spiky bed-head disarray. She sips and waits for him to wake.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

He awakens knowing immediately that something has changed even befoire he remembers what happened last night. He feels the emptiness in the bed next to him where he knows he felt her last night, and then he remembers everything.

He sits up and looks around, sees her sitting there regarding him.

Her expression is hard to read. She's not smiling at him. Definitely not smiling. She's looking at him as if she's trying to figure out just who he is and what it means to her.

He tries a smile on her. "Good morning." he says. "You should have woken me. Been up long?"

"Not long, no." she says.

Bright winter light is coming in through the windows, almost painfully bright. Apparently the storm has blown itself out, and winter has replaced fall. The chill he can sense outside seems to have infected her as well. He wonders what he's done to receive such a cold reception.

"Not a morning person, huh?" It's a weak joke and she doesn't think it's funny.

"That was nice, last night." he says. He doesn't know what else to say.

 

[Annabelllee2003]

Watching him wake, he sits up so quickly.

His smile adds to my confusion. I have sat and watched him sleep and tried to put last night in some kind of perspective. I don't know HOW I feel about him.

His attempt at humor does nothing to clear up the confusion. I can't begin to sort out the emotions. He looks so good to me sitting there. I can't help but remember how he made me feel. How sweet he'd been yesterday, really.

Was anything he'd done worse than what I did? Well, I suppose. My crimes were not violent. And I didn't scare the shit out of someone... But he'd not been able to go through with it.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, a headache starting.

"That was nice, last night." he says. I don't have any idea why that makes my eyes sting. I blink rapidly.

"Yes, Neal it was," I say with a sigh and get up to walk rapidly to the kitchen before I start crying.

Silent tears as I pour coffee for him and refill my mug. I have no idea why I am crying. Unless it is stress. Oh god, I am in so deep. I'd wanted to use him to help me. Now I don't think I can. Maybe last night was just release for him. And as much as I wish it were just that for me, it seems is wasn't.

DAMN. I scrub at my eyes and take in the coffee. As I sit on the edge of the sofa bed and hand him his coffee look at him. Trying to see what is behind his eyes.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

He takes the coffee, a bit surprised. He's not at all sure what she's feeling or thinking, but it's obvious that she's either been crying or is about to start.

And there's something else. That hardness is gone. She's not the tough bitch she was last night, not the woman he'd known at Bern & Bern either. She looked scared and confused. But she still looked beautiful to him, and very desirable.

A sip of coffee brought him awake. He slid off the bed awkwardly and slipped on his shorts then padded to the bathroom. When he came out she hadn't moved. She looked miserable.

He got back into bed. "Come here, Rita?" It wasn't a command. It was a question, but she looked at him as if he were crazy.

"Come here." he repeated, and without knowing why she went to the bed and sat down. Her tears were about to start again, and he knew it. He took her in his arms and held her tight and they they started.

He said nothing as she cried. He just held her, and finally she held him too, and finally the tears stopped. It was so quiet in the house that they could hear the cold wind whipping around the lighthouse.

"It's not that bad." he said. "And I'm going to help you."

He let her go and she dapped at her eyes, looking at her hands.

"You know how long I've carried a torch for you?" he asked her.

In the state she was in she didn't want to hear about it. She'd used men and betrayed them and she'd tried to do the same thing with him. She felt contemptible.

Somehow he was amazingly sensitive. "Well, never mind that now. I just wanted you to know that last night wasn't just something casual to me. And you're not something casual to me, Rita. When I came out here, I thought it was for the money. I realize now that wasn't it at all."

She shook her head. She didn't want to hear this.

"It was you I wanted." he said. "And now I want to help you, baby. We can beat this. We just have to figure out what you should do."

She shook her head. It was hopeless. There was nothing anyone could do. She realaized now that she didn't even want the goddamned money, didn't want Edward, didn't care about him at all. But it was too late.

She tried to stand up but Heanl grabbed her. He pulled her down onto the bed and laid her on her back, covered her body with his and kissed him softly.

She let herself be kissedm not resisting. And then she grabbed him, pulled him tight. Opened her mouth to him and let him feel the terrible need and desperation she felt.

 

[Annabelllee2003]

The kiss started so softly by Neal becomes Rita’s fierce battle of the demons that plague her. The clashing of tongues and bruising intensity is severe and as necessary as breathing. They back away and stare deep into each other’s eyes, searching, and the next kiss is different.

This kiss is Neal giving comfort. It’s Rita revealing her soul wordlessly, expressing her anxious penury. In this kiss Neal allows his torch to be seen and Rita apologizes silently for trying to use him. This kiss was not the fiery prelude to a mindless lust ridden coupling. It’s healing. Each taking and giving just what’s needed.

And it changes timbre as both realize how good they feel against each other, how right it seems. The ardor builds slowly, without the subterfuge of the night before. It’s about giving and getting not taking and taking.

They mentally relax and with this relaxation they are able to build leisurely, constructing a fortress of enchanted need. Her hands caress him, his back, his shoulders, his head and neck. Holding her, kissing her yet again, Neal hardens and presses his erection against her, not with frenzied lust, but leisurely, languidly, fueling the tender passionate mood.

He breaks the kiss to rise and pull Rita up from the bed. Slowly undressing her. Her face suffused with a glowing knowledge of the sweetness ahead. She reaches to take down his shorts and walks into his waiting arms. They sink to the bed locked tightly together from lips to toes.

It’s a dance scripted, each part known but new again. Her hands caress his back down to his ass to bring him tighter against her. He finds his hands mimicking her movement to get closer still. His hardness is between them, teasing her clit with velvet iron.
The moans that fill the cottage are low and soft. When he pushes up to suck on a hard nipple she jerks with a gesture that scrapes her hard clit along his cock. The heat building between them is wondrous. He can’t remember when he has last felt such tenderness. To protect her at all costs. To beat his chest at anyone who might harm her.

Rita blossoms under him. The hurt of Edward, the stress – it melts with the pleasure. She’s open to Neal in a way she never was with Edward. Her ‘self’ is open and instead of feeling vulnerable, she feels strong. Strong in her desire and in the knowledge that Neal is utterly ‘with’ her.

When her legs part to admit him, he hesitates looking down at her. He sees the trust in her eyes and the longing. He lifts her hips with a strong arm and brings her face to his with a hand behind her neck as he enters. Her arms wrap around his neck meeting his kiss and raising her hips to meet his.

Their joining is seamless and breathtaking. He lowers her back to the bed and lays on her, in her, not moving while they take time to feel everything. Gauging every sensation and relishing each. When he starts moving in her, so slowly, it’s with intent. Savoring the feel of her gripping his cock. Prolonging the delight.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

She is something else to him today, something she wasn't last night. Last night she'd been his memory of her as the cold and ambitious schemer from Bern & Bern and he'd had to take what he wanted from her. But now there was no fight. Both of them were willing and eager to give, and they moved against each other with languid ease, seeing how they fit together, molding themselves to suit the other.

Rita lay on her back with her legs spread and Neal on top of her, his hands traveling from her face to her breasts to her hips and back as his hips moved slowly against her. And Rita encouraged him with her hands and the doft dounds she made, taking a kiss when his lips moved by hers, offering her breasts to his hands, her whole body to his cock. With his weight on her and his prick filling her, she had no room for fear or doubt, no need for worry.

He raised himself off of her and she looked into his eyes, saw the tenderness and passion there. She couldn't remember when a man had last looked at her like that, with such intimacy and appreciation, even awe. With Edward and with too many men before him the look had always been one of conquest and ownership, the lovemaking harsh and greedy. But with Neal she knew she could just let herself go in his care. He would not hurt her, would not take more than she wanted to give.

As he took joy in her body, she rediscovered what pleasure she was capable of as well, what windrous thrills there were in the smallest move and gesture. His moans of pleasure made her smile to think of what he was finding in her body, and she wanted him to find everything, to use her completely.

But Neal insisted on going slow, and his control was breathtaking. She was well past the point of wanting him harder and faster when he finally began to raise his hips and pummel into her, driving her down into the mattress.

"Yes, like that." she breathed, tangling her fingers in his hair. "Hard, like that! Please!"

She wanted to feel his strength now, wanted to feel his lust for her. She felt all soft and liquid beneath him, as if only the hardness of his cock kept her from dissolving into the sheets. She gripped his upper arms and the hardness of his muscles thrilled her.

He began to fuck into her with long, sure strokes, and she rose to meet him, wanting to feel the force of his thrusts. The hardner he fucked her, the more excited she became, and she started to spur him on with her heels, urging him to go faster, harder, telling him that's what she wanted.

 

[Annabelllee2003]

“Yes…yes…harder…yesssss”. Her sibilant breath flames his ear. Each downward thrust he makes into her force the words to break into more syllables.

“Yes…harder…YESSSSSSSS.” Rita feels her body gathering, quickening. She hears his harsh breath panting in her ear.

When he groans deep and loud it’s a trigger, the catalyst driving her over the edge. Her legs wrap around his hips squeezing him to her as the shudders take over her body, her pussy gripping his cock with mindless abandon.

That’s his undoing. With a cry his hips lunge forward pinning her to the bed, each thrust now accompanied with a spurt of his hot seed, matching perfectly the spasms of her liberation. White light fills her mind and body as she rides the wave with him. Their cries fill the room echoing against the walls to the rhythm of their bodies locked in a long, drawn out, exquisitely agonizing explosion of need. It never ends. He grips her ass so tightly his fingers disappear in her flesh. She draws 8 little half moons of red on his back where her fingers dig deep, holding on to him.

As they writhe and grind together not a single other thing matters as long as they ride together over the edge to be shaken soul deep and made new.

Collapsing finally in sweaty exhaustion, they lay twined and tangled together. Hearts pounding, their breath torn from their lungs, they are still joined.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A giggling Rita pauses before the bathroom door. Neal is in the shower just singing his ass off. No man has ever made love to her like he did. No one has ever drawn out such feelings in her. Edward and the money have been pushed aside in her mind and Neal has changed before her eyes.

She leans thoughtfully against the bathroom door, listening to him belting out a song, horribly off key. This morning another side of his personality was revealed to her. Gone was the disdainful, jaded kidnapper. No more defeated blackmailer. This Neal was loving, warm. Protective. And an incredibly passionate lover.

With a grin, she quietly opens the bathroom door and watches him through the steam-fogged door of the shower. Slipping out of her shirt and leggings, she eases the door open.

“Boo!”

Neal jerks as though stung his song cut off in mid agonizing note and the soap flies from his hand to thunk-slither on the floor of the shower. Grabbing her by the wrists he draws her in closing the door.

“Boo yourself. You know what you can do to a guy scaring him like that?” he says as he presses her against the shower wall, wrists over her head.

“No,” she says solemnly, eyes dancing.

“You can make him want to do things Rita,” he says as he moves his pelvis against her. “You could make him lose his …control.” With that warning he bends and kisses her moving against her body deliciously, his prick filling and pressing into her belly.

Breaking the kiss, Rita pulls back brings her hands down and with a twist and a considerable amount of agility pins him to the wall. When he releases her wrists, she takes his and lowers herself down before him, prick level. The water is hot, beating down on her as she takes his cock in her mouth, sucking him in. Dropping his wrists, she moves closer drawing him in deeper into the wet hot depth of her mouth. Moving back until just the head is at her lips she licks and teases him, moving down his cock with slow precision to his balls, licking sucking. Using her hands, lips, tongue she strokes, kisses, nuzzles his balls and cock. Nudging his legs further apart she licks down to his asshole, slowly increasing the pressure as she moves back up to suck him in her mouth again.

Neal is staggered, her mouth and tongue and hands exciting him. His hands twine in her hair, holding her at his cock. When she starts fucking him with her mouth it’s incredible. The sight of his prick sliding in and out of her mouth, the shower raining down on her, Christ, it’s an erotic sight. His hips start to move and she takes more of him inside, the little gag she makes as she tries taking him further makes him groan over the sound of the water.

“Oh baby, that’s good.”

Her finger finds his anus and traces it, then pushes upward. He feels so good in her mouth. She loves that she can do this without feeling it necessary. Just for the pleasure it brings them both. She moves faster, her cheeks hollowed, wanting him to cum. She looks up sees him watching her, eyes slit in lust.

“Yesss, Rita. That’s good… suck me down, fuck me with your mouth baby.”

 

[dr_mabeuse]

Any woman can take a prick into her mouth, but to really pleasure a man she has to be speciaal: she has to enjoy giving it, ahe has to enjoy the feel of him in her mouth. Wanting to be good or wanting to please is not enough: she has to derive a sensual satisfaction from the very act as well.

He wouldn't have thought Rita would be any good at it. Most attractive women weren't; they didn't have to be. But he could feel her pleasure at having him inside her, the way she explored him with her tongue and piulled at him slowly, turning her head so she could feel all sides of him everywhere in her mouth. He could feel her nails digging into his buttocks as her own excitement built, and when he got so hot that he just had to fuck his hips at her face she just opened her mouth and let him, happy to receive him, to feel his virile hardness sliding over her lips.

He pushed his hips forwarad and looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks sunken. The water from the shower streaming over her face was like a flood of come to his eyes, a caraicature of what he was going to do to her if she didn't stop, and the thought sent a thrill up his spine.

'Rita, Rita!" he gasped. "Stop! Let me fuck you before you make me come!"

She pulled her mouth off his cock and said, "I want you to come, Neal. I want to taste you. I want to swallow you, baby. Please!"

He was not going to argue. She already had him in such a state of high heat that he didn't want to stop. Her greedy mouth was sucking him steadily towards orgasm as she purred and hummed with pleasure.

One of her hands teased his balls, her nails scratching lightly over their wrinkled surface, while the other slid into his rectum, searching for his his prostate. When she found it he let out a low moan and began to fuck her mouth hard, his natural reflexes taking over, and she squealed with excitement. He garbbed her head and tried with all his might to keep from jamming his cock all the way down her throat, just holding her there while he fucked at her, knees bent, thigh muscles straining and standing out like steel bands.

Rita loved his roughness, his urgent passion. She could see his stoimach muscles tighten and quiver, feel hjis cock growing in her mouth. His eyes were clenched shut, his teeth dug into his lower lip as he gasped and groaned.

"Oh Fuck!" he cried. "Oh fuck, yes, baby! I'm coming! I'm coming, Rita!"

She took him deep, held him in her mouth as she felt his cock throb with life and then burst against the back of her throat with a thick bolt of semen. It made her gag for a moment and she poulled her mouth off him but kept it yawning open as she looked up and saw his eyes looking at her, glazed with astonishment at what she made him feel. He threw his head back and cried out again as the next burst landed forcefully against her tongue, and she grabbed his cock and began to frig him, thrilling to the powerful spasms of release she felt as his prick shot again and again,

She took all he had and wished for more, then watched him collapse against the wall of the shower, his thigh muscles trembling. She swallowed methodically, letting him see, teasing him as she licked his semen off her lips and swallowed it with a groan of pleasure.

Unable to hold himself up, Neal slid to the floor of the shower where he took her in his arms and forced his mouth on hers, hungrily kissing her mouth, tasting his own come on her, his hands all over her body, seeking to pull her so tightly to him that they would merge into one person.

 

[Annabelllee2003]

Where does this passion come from? Rita hasn't got a clue but when he starts shooting in her mouth, she is all mouth. Trying to swallow him all. When she gags with the first volley of semen squirting in the back of her throat she takes his cock and aims it at her mouth to get the rest. Pulling him, urging him to shoot more, she avidly takes it then shows him how she swallows him down.

With a groan he slides down the wall. Gathering her to him, kissing her. Her heart is pounding with the feelings he inspires and her accomplishment. His hands hot on her body. They strain together. Muffled moans are caught in their kisses.

They writhe and twist on the floor of the shower as the water beats on them. They'd be there still but eventually the water as those things go, turns from hot to tepid, the tank exhausted at last.

"Neal, I think we are running out of hot water," Rita breaks the kiss with reluctance and smiles.

"Up Rita." Pulling her up with him then shutting off the shower. Stepping out, it's cold and they bundle in fluffy white towels. They reach occasionally to touch one another, just to have contact.

Neal leads her back to the living room to the rocker where he makes her sit. She watches him with a quizzical expression.

"What are you doing Neal?"

"Something."

"Obviously Neal, but what?"

"Man, Rita you ask a lot of questions. For once just sit and keep quiet."

As he speaks he's building up the fire. Creating a monster blaze that dances up the stone chimney. He drags the comforter off the bed and doubling it over stretches it out before the fire. Tugging Rita from the rocker, he tells her to sit and warm up.

Moving down the hall to the bedroom he gets finds some things he noticed on his previous search. Grabbing the pillows off the bed he moves and only stops briefly in the bathroom to grab a few more things.

He wants to make her feel good. He wants to shower her with attention.

She watches him return and smiles when she sees him come in laden as he was with pillows, a towel, her hairbrush, body cream. Dropping the armload before the fire, he swings down to sit by her and her heart beats heavily in her chest when she sees his expression.

"Let me be good to you Rita. I'm not like the other men you've been with. I want to make you feel fine."

Rita doesn't know how to react. She's been unfortunate in her previous choice of men and her love life. No man ever has moved her as Neal has. No one has come close. She's always been a possession. Or a receptiacle. This attention from Neal is like Christmas morning, a radiant sunset, a beautiful symphony. She feels her heart open to him and she's not sure that's a good thing.

Neal pulls her forward, kissing her briefly, and slips a pillow under her. Moving behind her he begins to towel dry her hair. Every once in a while his lips brush her neck. Slow gentle hands caress her hair through the towel, the heat from the fire helps dry her hair. When damp-dry he brushes her hair, working the tangles out gently. Rita fairly purrs with sensation. Relishing the feeling of being so pampered.

When he finishes he just sits behind her, pulling her back until she relaxes against his chest. Content both of them. Still holding the world and their problems at bay. Moving leisurely, Neal eases her to a sitting position and lowers her so her head is aon the other pillow, keeping her hips centered on the pillow she was sitting on.

Uncapping the cream he begins to massage her from feet to fingers... except for her breasts and pussy...

 

[dr_mabeuse]

She basks in the delicious warmth of the fire as he rubs the cream into her arms, working slowly, thoroughly, from her shoulders down to her hands, where he does each finger and the palms of her hands, leaving her arms tingling from his touch. He goes to her knees and does her calves, and when he moves to her feet she's afraid he'll tickle, but his touch is so firm and slow that it feels wonderful at first, and then terribly erotic, as if he's discovered some nerve connecting her feet with her sex. The warm erotic glow she's been feeling suddenly comes into focus, and she wants him.

She tries to sit up but he won't let her. "Please, Neal. I want to do you too."

"The best thing you can do for me right now is just lie there and let me touch you." he says. "You don't know how good you feel in my hands. I could do this all day."

She doesn't quite believe him, but she does as he says. She needs him now, and he doesn't make things any better as he starts massaging her thighs, coming slowly closer to her pussy, deliberately teasing her, scratching the inside of her thighs lightly with his nails.

He straddles her body, both of them naked. He makes no attemtp to disguise his raging erection, the tip of which sits right between her breasts. He does her throat, her chest, and finally her breasts.

His hands, filled with cream slide over her soft flesh, over her nipples, squeezing her and letting her slip out of his grasp. He pushes them together, pulls them apart, squeezes his cock between them as she feels his moisture leak onto her skin.

"Oh, Neal..."

She jumps when he starts to do her stomach. She is just too keyed up now and his touch is almost like an electric shock. She needs him very badly and all she wants if him inside her, filling her. She knows she's soaking wet, her pussy swollen and aching, and when he moves off her body she sits up and takes his face in her hands. He pushes her back down.

"I want to taste you." he says.

She knows she has no choice, but it has been so long since a man did this to her it almost seems wrong. She feels guilty for taking so much, but he pushes her down and she feels his breath on her pussy.

He kisses her, tenderly, and her misgivings disappear as his tongue and lips seek her out. She can tell by the way he touches her that he enjoys the feel of her between his lips and against his tongue. He really does seem to be tasting her, savoring her, and she realizes that he does, indeed, love the way she feels against his mouth. He doesn't urge her to climax, doesn't shove his tongue inside her, and the understanding that he is doing this for his own pleasure enables her to relax and let herself be used.

She rises quickly to a pinnacle of pleasure, trembling and moaning, tangling her fingers in his hair, whispering words of encouragement as he continues to love her. She wants him inside her, but really she'll take anaything he chooses to give her at this point. As long as he doesn't stop.

 

[Annabelllee2003]

Snapping suddenly, Rita decides she does need him inside her.

NOW.

"Neal, please. I need you. Please."

Neal looks up from her drenched pussy, his face shiny with her, and smiles. In less time than it takes to tell he has her legs to her chest and guides himself into her wet spasming depths.

Going down on Rita is wonderful, sucking her in, making her cry out, feeling her hands clamping his face to her pussy. Feeling her cum against his mouth, has stoked his lust until his cock feels the slightest touch would make it burst.

He hesitates to keep from cumming. But Rita doesn't want or need the hesitation.

She wants him bad, she wants him hard. She wants him now.

"FUCK ME" nearly growled in her need to have him.

Neal rears back and let's her have all he's got, plunging wildly into her. Pumping her like he's never pumped a woman before. Wild, unrestrained lunges into her wet slit.

Her cries become strangled as her legs are pressed tightly into her chest with each of his thrusts.

Then she's cumming again. Screaming his name, rocking and reeling with abandon.

Neal loses control and starts his own euphoric journey. His semen seeps to come from his toes, not his balls, as he pumps into her each spurt a groaning blob of rapture. He feels like he cums for minutes, hours in that time.

When they finally slow and descend back to the earth, they bask for eternity in the slow half hour they remain tangled. Both unwilling to move. Unwilling to know that the idyllic interludes they've shared may be coming to an end.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

Evening now, dusk gathering outside the steamed windows, the rosy sunset of a frozen day spilled red into the room, then blue, now gray and dark gathering rapidly. The wind has dropped but the cold remains, held safe outside by the thick walls of the lighthouse and the hot, constant glow of the fire.

Inside there is a tangle of blankets and pillows in front of the fireplace where Neal and Rita have spent the whole day making love, talking, kissing, exploring each other and sharing themselves. Never quite dressed, never totally naked, they are bruised and sore, lazy with love and content. They lie on the floor still because neither wants to be the first to get up from the other and because, really, there is not need.

Rita lies on her back, her head on a pillow, playing with Neal's hair as he softly kisses her breasts. He never seems to get enough of her, though she's begged him to stop for his own good. She's never known a man to take such delight in her body or to show such tenderness in his use of it, and she still can't get used to it. It's just an ordinary body to her, a bit too big in parts, but he seems to find infinite pleasure in finding new places to explore and kiss and caress, and it thrills her to be so appreciated.

For his part he just can't keep his hands and lips off of her. She is everything he'd ever hoped when he was at Bern and Bern: fiery, passionate, and intensely sensual, but without the bitchiness and selfish ambition she'd had then. He'd had no illusions about her motivation in letting him into her bed at first, but there was no doubt in his mind that he had touched her, and that he had opened something precious in her, something which she hadn't even known she held inside.

He wasn't the kind of man she was accustomed to, the kind of man she'd played against at Bern and Bern and in other area of her life. But if anything he was deeper and more solid, and for the first time in years she felt like she had an anchor she could hold onto, someone at least worth trying to hold onto.

When her cell phone rang they both froze in mid embrace.

"It's him." he said.

"I know."

He handed her the phone and saw the look on her face, listened to her curt responses. She put her hand over the phone.

"It's Edward. He's at the head of the causeway."

Neal was already getting dressed and picking up the blankets. "Tell him to come down. We'd might as well deal with this now."