To Eternity. Daisy Banks

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СКАЧАТЬ her. The last time she’d felt like this they’d shared the kind of lovemaking she’d thought just fantasy. “Magnus?”

      “No,” he replied. “I want you to see the trees. Once you have, we’ll talk about permanence.”

      “Are you sure?”

      “Yes. You know why.” His gaze fixed on hers. “Help me, please, don’t tease. It’s not a good idea, not today.”

      She longed to roll with him in the bed of leaves, but the image in her mind closed under the shutter of his words. Another time. Another day. She focused on the trees, all of them beautiful in the last phase of this year’s leaf. “I’ve never seen such magnificent colors or such shapes.”

      “These are probably the oldest oak trees in the grounds. They’ve had lots of time to grow in the way they wish.” Tucking her hand through the crook of his arm, he smiled. “Some of these are century’s old, one or two may be more ancient still.”

      Looking up to his smile, she nodded. His need to feel a part of time should be fed. Perhaps she might find a way. Now he’d mentioned it, she’d work hard to try to arrange a visit to Egypt for them. He’d traveled in his youth and could again. Surely, in Egypt he’d have a sense of time greater than his own.

      “Yes, that would be an adventure we both might enjoy.” He strode on beside her.

      “You heard my thought?”

      “Did I?”

      “Yes, I didn’t say anything aloud, yet you answered me.”

      He nodded. “I did tell you our link would deepen.”

      “Yes.” She stifled the new rash of concerns this brought. “So you did.”

      Chapter 3

      Heartbeat pounding, he raced over the mossy grass toward the slender figure who headed into the dense thicket of trees. Pale like moonlight, her slim legs moved fast as quicksilver. How he’d delight in stroking the satin smooth flesh of her thighs, teasing in between when he caught her. And catch her he would. When he did, she’d plead for his forgiveness, promise she’d never run again. He’d believe her, of course, until the next time.

      The widening gaze, her eyes shining bright as she glanced over her shoulder before taking her first step into the shadows, increased his expectations. She filled him with determination. This tempting minx would howl for him.

      How her dreams thrilled him. This one was proving as delightful as the others she’d gifted to him and allowed him to share. Full of life, vitality, and Sian, always Sian, no other woman had ever, or could ever, torment him in the delicious way she did.

      The close-knit trees, with thick shadowy undergrowth, slowed his rapid paces to match hers.

      A gentle breath, one not his own, told him where she hid. Less than an arm’s length from him he caught a flash of the pale dress. He ducked down into the undergrowth at the base of a tall chestnut tree. Amber, ochre, rust, and orange, the autumn woodland colors complimented his mate’s pure beauty. Her brandy wine, corkscrew curls cascaded over her shoulders. The rich, creamy lace gown clung tight to her slender waist, molded to her rounded buttocks. She clutched a frothy curdle at the front of the ankle length skirt up above her knees to lessen the impediment of her dress in her barefoot attempt to escape him. All of her image sent his blood rolling in eager excitement. He took a deep breath to force himself to calm. Sian knew him well enough to provoke his desire with ease. This little fantasy lured him toward the culmination hot and hard.

      Her calves formed solid muscles as she stood on tiptoe. She took a step, then two more as she hiked the skirt higher. Her slender thighs elongated with her movement, sent a shiver of desire through him.

      She glanced from side to side, taking a slow examination of her surroundings. Her breasts moved in the rapid rhythm of quarry at bay. His palms itched to soothe her torment, to tease her nipples until she whimpered. He smiled, for she seemed to have no idea he crouched so near. Her arousing aroma reached him, quickening his pulse. A tiny stir in the air from her body heat alerted him when she took a step closer.

      The snap of a twig, as he moved his weight onto his front foot, sent her into flight like a hind from the hunter. She dashed off with a low cry. He paced after her, for memory told him the name and fame of this place. Strange that the woods of Symonds Yat would appear in her dream. She must have a memory of this famous beauty spot. He smiled again.

      The escarpment’s edge was bounded by a wide swath of forest. Below the top ledge were several more levels in hefty graduated steps, each set with more woodland until the final outcrop offered the courageous a place to plunge into the deep river, carving its way through the valley. She’d left herself no room to maneuver. Run as she might, she would only find a descent she’d rather not make without wings.

      She’d flown, but in a machine. Might she fly in their dreams? What a thought. He increased his pace as he followed her, more eager than ever to see what she might do. The autumnal sun still held heat. He scanned the bracken-trimmed cliff top.

      “Magnus!”

      The cry sped him onward. He dashed along the ledge in search for her.

      “Help.”

      The call held no real distress or fear. Another feint from her. She had the delightful capacity to dissemble like any eighteenth century Venetian courtesan. He could do nothing more than love her—stealthy, clever, and provoking as she was.

      At the next shriek, he paused to look down. There, some way below where he stood, Sian’s white-knuckled hands clutched a thick tree root protruding from the black soil of the bank. He could also see a small ledge under her foot supporting her weight.

      “Ah, so helpless,” he said as he ambled along. “I have to say, there are times when I worry about your psyche.” He crouched, reaching forward to grasp her.

      “I slipped.”

      A smile to delight him curved her cheek as he caught her beneath the arms and hauled her up. Once she stood on solid ground, he covered her mouth with his and lowered his hands until her sweet rounded ass sat in his palms. With her caught fast in his embrace, he swept at the back of her skirt to brush off the dirt, until she squirmed and whimpered in their kiss.

      “I’m afraid, sometimes your desire to be captive is too much for me to refuse,” he explained before he gave her a hearty swat.

      Green diamond bright, her widened gaze met his. Her lips parted with a gasp of surprise. The trees took on a hazy hue; the leaves falling to the forest floor became mere smudges of brown such as a child might paint. “Do you wish me to take control of the dream?” he asked before he kissed the warmth of her neck.

      “No.”

      She angled her head, caught his lips, and took them captive with hers. The delight of her kiss swept away any need for further words. Abandoning their kiss, he hoisted her in his embrace, stepping away from the ledge. Her small feet scrambled in the leaf litter, as he backed her fast into the smooth bulk of an ash tree’s trunk. He hauled the delicate lace gown up as he pinned her in place. He wedged one thigh between hers, nudging and rolling against her pussy. His cock swelled solid in four heartbeats, eager for her. He molded his palm to her breast, enjoying the rigid lump of her nipple. “Now or later?”

      She СКАЧАТЬ