Cherished Beginnings (21 page)

Chapter 10

They didn't discuss it. There was no need to talk about it in words. They communicated with a look, a touch, and a silent subtle signaling of body language. It was tacitly understood by both of them that Maura would go home with Xan that night.

They drew up in his driveway in her car, caught up in the magic of the starlit night. Tonight Maura felt joyfully alive and new, on the threshold of something glorious. Xan had made her feel special in the eyes of another person for the first time in her life, and very much a woman.

He didn't rush her. "Come with me," he said leading her around the villa to the dunes. They walked to the top of one high dune and looked out at the star-silvered ocean ruffling in glittering wavelets toward shore. As they watched, two deer, a doe and her fawn, daintily picked their way out of the dark dunes and stood listening intently at the water's edge. Then the two animals leisurely sauntered around a series of tide pools before disappearing out of sight.

"I've seen those two deer before," said Xan. "They're totally unafraid of man. I guess they know they're protected here on the island and have nothing to fear."

Maura rested her head on Xan's shoulder, lifting her face to brush his cheek with her lips. "I wish we could swim," she said. "The water looks so cool and inviting."

"We can swim if you like."

"But—"

"Let's not just stand here talking about it. It's time for action, not words!" With that he tugged at her hand, and laughing back at her, delighted with the astonished expression on her face, he pulled her down the grassy slope of the dune lickety-split until they stopped hand in hand at the edge of the sea.

"Kick your shoes off," he ordered, slipping his off and dropping them in a patch of dried seaweed. She did as she was told, reveling in the spontaneity of it.

And then Xan swung her up into his arms, lifting her as though she were feather-light, his eyes exploring the depths of hers. He waded into the ocean deeper, deeper, until the water reached his knees, his hips, and then the waves rose enticingly bit by bit to lap at her body, which was still cradled in his arms.

"Didn't we forget something?" she murmured against his chest, feeling the salt spray misting against her cheek.

"Did we?" he said, his lips close to her ear.

"We didn't take our clothes off," she said, tilting her head so that she could look at him and see the expression on his face.

Xan was still amused, still enjoying the moment, but there was something deeper in his expression as well. He slowly released her so that her body slid into the water against the long length of his, touching him all the way down as she found her footing on the sand below.

"No one ever swims fully clothed," he said, his arms flowing out and around her and pulling her tightly against him. Maura could feel him, all of him, the only barrier between their eager bodies layers of wet cloth. The ocean currents swirled around them, unbelievably sensuous in their caress, making her unsteady on her feet. She clutched at him for support, catching her breath for one heart-stopping moment as skin electrified skin.

Her fingers tugged at the buttons on Xan's shirt. She pushed the first one through its hole, but the undulating motion of the waves made it difficult to unbutton the second. She fumbled for a moment, and he caught her up close to him. They supported each other, swaying against the playful currents as she unbuttoned the third.

His tongue traced the vulnerable line from her chin to her ear, licking the salt from her skin. She drew in her breath sharply.

"Let me help," he said, gently covering her fingers with his.

"No," she whispered. "I want to do this."

Xan surrendered his clothes to her then, concentrating on pleasuring her with his lips and teeth and tongue on her eyelids, her nose, her ears, and her lips as she carefully undid the buttons of his shirt.

The sight of his chest, the springy hairs damp and whorled into a new pattern by the waves, took Maura's breath away. He shrugged out of the shirt, and when it slipped through her fingers into the sea, he said, "Let it go."

Her lips sought his, her arms reaching up, up, until her fingers wove themselves through his hair. "Oh, Maura," he sighed against her lips, and his kiss was excruciatingly sweet as their lips parted, their tongues touched, and she trembled with the joy of it.

Maura's hands glided to his waist, sliding around the snug wet waistband of his pants. His lips released her even as his eyes imprisoned her in their passion, and they never left hers as she undid the fastener and lowered the zipper slowly and carefully beneath the surface of the dark water. With one quick motion he stepped out of the pants, letting them flow into the current, and she tugged at his underwear until his magnificent body sprang free. She touched him carefully, gently, exploring him in wonder.

He moaned softly. Her fingers elicited the most delicious sensations, but he couldn't let her go on doing that without doing something for her in return. He slipped his hands around her slender waist and up until her breasts filled his hands. They were so round, so full, and their fullness betrayed her desire. As usual, she wore no bra, and the thought of her beautiful upthrust breasts unbound within his hands excited him so that he slid his hands underneath her top.

She helped him pull it over her head. His eyes marveled at the newly revealed beauty and perfection of her. Waves licked at the undersides of her breasts, gentling the sensitive bottom curves and sucking into the hollow between them.

Maura had never known that her body was so full of points of pleasure. Parts of her body that she had never given much heed suddenly became all-important. Her shoulders, where his lips dropped hot kisses. Her ear-lobes, branded by his tongue. Her forehead, pressed tightly against his cheek.

Maura rejoiced at the titillating sensation of skin against skin, of her moist nipples tipping through his wet body hair. Her whole body ached and glowed and cried out for more.

His hands feathered down the sides of her breasts and skimmed to her waist, finally reaching the elastic waistband of her pants, where they hesitated. This was the time when, if she wanted to, she could stop him. But she didn't.

"Shall I?" he said, his breath hot against her forehead.

"Yes, Xan," she murmured, shaken by her own desire. She closed her eyes, wishing he'd hurry. If he hadn't supported her with one hand against the steady billowing of the waves, Maura would surely have fallen. Then she was stepping out of the last bits of clothing between them.

His hands curved around her hips, drawing her closer until she felt the magnitude of his desire surging against her belly. She could never have imagined such eroticism as she felt now with Xan, naked against him beneath the waves. He pulled her close and held her as their hearts synchronized. He was supporting her, loving her, infusing her with longing.

"My darling Maura," he said softly into the damp swirling cloud of her hair. "I love you so much. I've never loved anyone like this. Never."

Her arms slid up around him in silent surrender, and her body rocked against his with an awareness that was pure instinct.

He knelt before her in the water, his head barely above the glassy surface, his mouth suckling at one breast until she sighed, almost a moan. One hand around her hips pressed her to him, and always there was the susurrus of the sea, swelling and ebbing in the small space between them. She wrapped one leg around his body for support, and then he stood in one fluid motion, water streaming off him in star-spun rivulets, and there were no waves between them at all.

His body throbbed against her, and he commanded, "Put your other leg around me."

She did, and then was amazed that his seeking fingers were so gentle and so knowing in her warm secret places. "Oh," she cried out, her cry wafted away on the sea wind. "Oh, Xan, I love you. Love me. Love me." And her plea was almost a sob.

"You're a passionate woman, Maura." He had meant to love her here for only a little while, a fervent and romantic starlit prelude to their tumultuous coupling later in his big, high bed. But she was clearly longing for fulfillment, and he had waited so long that he was frantic with need.

He lifted her hips to settle her upon him, the water providing its own sensuous caress. Gently he probed her moist tightness, holding back his passion, wanting to be careful with her, wanting to bring her maximum pleasure. He could not believe it when he met resistance.

"Maura?" he whispered, leaning back to look at her face. Her eyes met his, and in them was the truth. The knowledge staggered him. He could not believe she had never made love before.

"Please, Xan," she whispered urgently, "I want you to."

"But you've never..."

She hid her face in his shoulder and clung to him with all her might.

"Oh, my darling," he said quietly. "You should have told me." His arms enfolded her, pressed her to him. He felt strong and sturdy and utterly supportive. She began to shiver, holding fast to his strength.

Holding her, his mind racing, wondering how she could still be untouched when he was almost certain she'd had an unhappy love affair, Xan's desire faded. Tenderness took its place. Carefully, so that she would know he was not rejecting her, he let her go. Her feet found their place on the sand, but no sooner had they settled there than he was lifting her in his arms.

"What are you doing?" she said, her voice shaking. Had she disappointed him? What had she done wrong?

"I'm taking you into the house," he said firmly, striding out of the ocean, the seawater sluicing from their bodies in streams.

The beach was deserted, and there was no one to mark their passing. He kicked open a door, refusing to put her down, and he marched, both of them still naked and dripping, up the stairs to the second floor. He strode to the bedroom, where he laid her gently on the coverlet of the bed that had bred generations of Copelands. And then he laid himself on top of her, covering her body with his own so that she wouldn't be cold.

"Xan?" she said, searching his face for whatever emotions—disgust, disappointment, anger—he was feeling.

"My sweet, lovely Maura," he said, securing her head between his two hands so that she couldn't move it, and then his lips descended upon hers.

When he had finished kissing her, Maura opened her eyes to see his face limned in the moon glow filtering through the narrow wooden blinds. "You're not taking birth control pills? You're not protected?" he asked.

Birth control pills?

"No, I—" she said, realizing that she should have anticipated this.

"Don't worry," he said gently. "I'll take care of it."

She pulled his head to her breast, stroking his hair softly, her fingers lightly caressing the pulse point at his temple. His body no longer felt alien to her or strange. It seemed right, now, that it finally be a part of her.

He looked down at her in wondering adoration. "If it's your first time, darling, I want you to feel it in a special way. I want you to be satisfied. Are you afraid?"

"Not afraid," she told him, her words a mere whisper. "Worried that I won't please you."

He kissed her nose, her chin, the hollow of her throat. "I won't hurt you," he promised. "And you'll please me. But this won't be the only time, you know. So don't try too hard. Just let it happen."

His words eased her apprehension. "I didn't want you to know I've never done this before," she confessed, her eyes dark with love. "I wanted you to think I was just like everyone else. That I knew all the things..."

He trailed a long feathery string of kisses down her neck, her chest, her breast until she trembled with need of him. He stopped to circle her nipple gently with his tongue, and she felt the sensation deep inside her, and with it came the joy that her emptiness was finally going to be filled.

"You do know all the things," he told her. "With you, it will be natural and real and right," and his arms clasped her to him and he held her for a long time, silently communicating the depth of his happiness until his body began to pulse with desire.

"Oh, Xan," she said, overwhelmed with her certain love for him as his hands began again to explore her intimate crevices with the most tantalizing languor. "I was meant for this moment."

"You were meant to be mine," he said unsteadily, and then, slowly and reverently and with more love than lust, he set about making her really and truly his in body as well as in spirit.