Molly Darling Page 14

  It made perfect sense to him.

  Like him, she understood, even without words, the beauty of the moment. A need to cherish her, to softly and reverently kiss every inch of her, stole over him.

  The words came of their own volition. “Ah, Molly,” he said, fighting for control. “Molly, darling.”

  He needed to be inside, buried in her warmth, in the sweet, welcoming center of her. He needed… her.

  Moving carefully so as not to frighten her with the lust that raged through him, he slipped his thumbs under the elastic waistband of her pajamas. “Lift your hips.”

  She did as he wished.

  With one liquid motion, he peeled the material from her. His breath caught in his throat. She lay still under the siege of his gaze and permitted him to look his fill.

  “Beautiful.” It was the only word he could find.

  He leaned over her, letting his body skim hers ever so lightly. Her breasts beaded again, drawing into tiny buds of passion he had to taste.

  Molly couldn’t seem to get enough air. She gasped when his lips opened and gently sucked one nipple into his mouth. With his tongue, he teased and stroked until she writhed against him in increasing demand, wanting more… more

  “Come to me.” She panted with need. “Now. Please, now.” She wasn’t sure what she wanted, only that he held the key.

  “Not yet. I wouldn’t last a second. One stroke and…” He smiled down at her, then nuzzled her nose with his. “I want to make love to you for hours.”

  “I don’t think I can last that long.”

  His chest moved against hers as he chuckled. “I’ll make sure you do.” He paused. “Molly, I want to lie beside you.”

  She ran her hands over his back, urging him closer. “Oh, yes, please do.”

  He stood. With one swift movement, he stripped out of his briefs. The moonlight from the window outlined his powerful body. She vaguely wondered if she should be alarmed, but oddly, she wasn’t. Her faith in her husband was absolute. He would know what to do.

  With the same care as before, he lifted her and slipped the satin top off her shoulders and down her arms. It pooled on the floor with the other items of clothing.

  She shivered.

  He must have felt it. “Don’t be afraid.”

  “I’m not. I’m just… anxious.”

  His smile flashed briefly, then his mouth was on hers again. She felt his chest, the brush of his thigh as he changed position on the bed, then… then the sheer wonder of his flesh all along hers, a hot, powerful presence that registered in every cell in her body.

  For a second she was unsure about what to do next. Nature took over. She moved against him. The thrust of his body on her thigh both shocked and thrilled her.

  His tongue stroked hers, coaxing her into joining his sensual play. She responded joyfully, filled with the most wonderful sensations, pressing and retreating, loving the pressure of his lips on hers.

  With a knee, he nudged her legs apart. Without breaking the kiss, he moved over her, his body fitting into the grooves and angles of hers as if they’d been designed for each other.

  She sucked in a quick breath when he touched the most intimate part of her. Still maintaining the kiss, he thrust gently at the jointure of her legs.

  Sam didn’t try to penetrate the tight closure of her body. First he wanted to get her used to his touch and to assure her he was in control. He was… barely.

  He ignored the fierce need to thrust inside and find the peace that only she could give him. He wanted to make this first time a time to remember for her. He wanted to give her so much pleasure she’d never regret coming to him or giving him this gift of herself.

  Between him and Molly, there was respect as well as passion. He could never tell her how much it meant to him. He wanted to shower her with the most exquisite pleasure she’d ever known.

  That would be his gift to her for her trust.

  He stroked gently at the portals of her womanhood. He kissed her breasts. A deep sense of satisfaction raced through him when she lifted to his touch, clearly indicating her desire for more.

  “Yes,” he encouraged. “Show me what you want.”

  Molly hardly heard the words. She was whirling in the haze of desire he stirred in her. It was like that night at her cottage, but better.

  She loved the feel of his body on hers and was momentarily dismayed when he pulled away. But only for a second. The next instant, his mouth was on her breasts again, first one, then the other, suckling, kissing them with the heated passion they shared.

  With trembling hands, she stroked through his hair and down his back. She found the small protrusions of his nipples in his chest hair and toyed with them. She glided down his torso to his abdomen. He sucked in a harsh breath when she touched him more intimately. She hesitated, then closed her hand around him.

  He lifted his head and gazed at her. Motionless, they watched each other.

  “We’ll take this as far as you want to go,” he told her. “I can stop at anytime. You only have to say the word.”

  She nodded. Yes, she’d known all that without him saying it. She smiled at him, deliriously happy. “If you stop, I’ll bite you,” she promised and pulled his chest hair with her teeth to show him.

  Sam laughed and gave her a bear hug, then turned them over so she was on top. “Okay, you can explore now.”

  Her eyes opened wide, then narrowed as she studied him, taking her time in deciding where she wanted to go first. He gritted his teeth, determined to wait out the exquisite torture.

  Curiosity got the better of her. Shifting to one side, she stroked down his stomach until she reached the destination she’d chosen.

  He held his breath as she touched him, gingerly at first, with uncertain glances at his face to see how he was reacting. He remained still, a smile kicking up the corners of his mouth as she became bolder.

  Hooking his hands under the headboard, he reveled in her earnest exploration. Mixed with the passion she aroused was that odd tenderness she induced. He’d never felt exactly this way about a woman before.

  The moment came when she grew too bold for his self-control. Bending down, she kissed the tip of his shaft, then drew back and looked at him, her eyes dancing with seductive mischief.

  He uttered an expletive as heat exploded inside him like a rocket. Turning with her in his arms, he slid between her legs and pressed the full length of his body on hers. He began to move in a smooth cadence, rubbing intimately until she moved with each motion of his.

  The moonlight had shifted, and he couldn’t see her face as clearly. He didn’t need to. Her panting gasps and soft moans told him she was as caught in desire’s net as he was.

  He could feel the moisture where they met, the sweet dew of passion a woman couldn’t hide. The need to take her all the way swept over him in a tidal wave of possessive tenderness.

  Moving his hand between them, he stroked gently, intimately, urgently. She hesitated, but he wouldn’t give her time to think about this new strategy. He kissed her mouth until they were, breathless, then he kissed her some more.

  Suddenly she went totally still beneath him. He gritted his teeth together and kept up the same rhythmic movements.

  When she stopped breathing, he moved faster, feeling his own control slip as he sensed the coming climax.

  “Sam,” she whispered. “Oh…yes…oh…yes. Oh, Sam… oh, darling… oh… yes.“

  His own breathing grew more and more ragged while she clutched his shoulders and murmured his name in a passionate delirium. He brought her down gently.

  Molly couldn’t lift a finger. Her bones had dissolved, and her body floated in a warm, sloshing liquid that rose and fell in gentle waves with each breath.

  Sam kissed her closed eyes, then moved away.

  “Don’t go,” she managed to murmur.

  “I’m not going far.”

  She heard the rasp of a drawer. Opening her eyes, she saw him remove a packet from the bedside tabl
e.

  “You’re not on birth control, are you?” he asked, sitting up beside her.

  “No.” She frowned. “Sam, I’d like a baby.”

  He paused. “Now?” He sounded hoarse.

  She wished she could see his face better. The moon had disappeared behind a hill, and the room was darker than when they’d started. “Soon. It would be nice to have a brother or sister for Lass.” She sounded defensive, but couldn’t help it.

  “Would you mind waiting awhile?” he asked, almost formally.

  “No, of course not. I didn’t mean we had to start tonight, but in a few months. It’s important to me.”

  He finished his task and returned to her. Lying beside her, he stroked her body, fondling each part as if she were the most precious thing in his world. He made her feel special.

  “Is it?” he asked, more as if he were talking to himself than her, as if he were checking the idea from all angles.

  “Yes. I love children. That’s the one thing I wanted and thought I could never have. And now… well, it would round out our family.”

  “Our family,” he repeated, his tone low and hoarse again. He peered into her face intently. “You mean it, don’t you? You really mean it.”

  “Of course.” She couldn’t figure out why he found that a thing to marvel at. It seemed natural to want children.

  “Molly,” he said.

  That was all, but she heard more. For some reason, her desire for children had touched him. She reached for him and pulled his mouth to hers, telling him without words how she felt.

  This time when he moved between her thighs, she knew they could find completion together. He touched her as he had before, with feather strokes over her breasts and abdomen, her thighs and finally that very sensitive place that welcomed him so greedily.

  She opened to him, taking him inside. They both trembled when the complete journey was made, then he lay still over her for a moment before he began the journey all over again.

  Once, when she cried out and clung to him, she thought she heard him laugh, but she wasn’t sure. The roar of the blood through her ears was like a gale in the cottonwoods. She was caught up, swept away, overjoyed by it.

  “I love you,” she told him. “I love you, love you, love you.” Over and over again. Those were the only words that came close to describing the magic.

  Chapter Ten

  Molly watched the dawn creep across the eastern sky in tendrils of color. She lay beside her husband, happiness a core of bubbling warmth inside her. Sam slept with one arm over her waist, his face pressed into her hair.

  It was nearly time for her to be up and about. The play was on for that afternoon. There was a ton of work to be done before then. Ah, but she didn’t want to move. If she could stay there forever, just like that, she’d be content.

  Resting her hand on his arm, she relived the moments of the night. The sense of being one with him lingered like a melody in her mind—one body, one soul, one love.

  A touch on her neck followed by the coolness of moisture told her that her husband was awake.

  “You taste good,” he murmured, drawing a moist line up to her earlobe. He nibbled there, sending little currents of electricity down into her chest.

  “It’s easier,” she said.

  “Is that the answer?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s the question?”

  “After the night at the cottage, I wondered if it would have been easier to face you the next morning if we’d slept together that night. It would have.”

  He raised his head and propped up on an elbow. He peered into her face, then smiled when she held his gaze. Odd, she didn’t feel embarrassed at all after sharing the most intimate of experiences with him, yet she’d dreaded her next encounter with him after that night in the kitchen.

  “We’re married now. We can cohabitate all we want to with everyone’s blessings.”

  His teasing reminder of their wedding night did bring a flush to her cheeks. He laughed, then nuzzled her ear again.

  “I thought you didn’t want me,” she said, defending herself.

  “I can’t believe you thought that after that first session. I nearly lost it. I was envious of Lass getting to spend the night at your house, and I couldn’t.”

  She stroked his face and found his beard rasped against her finger when she rubbed upward. “But you could have. That was why I was embarrassed. I did lose it.”

  He moved suddenly, swinging his long, lean body over hers. After making love, he’d put her pajama top back on to keep her from getting cold, but the bottoms were still on the floor. From the waist down, flesh touched flesh.

  She felt the nudge of his body against her. A pleasurable flash of anticipation shot through her. “Do we have time?” she asked, uncertain. It seemed they’d made love for hours during the night.

  “Yes,” he said. “If we concentrate.”

  She discovered that things could move very quickly when one concentrated. Later, she made another discovery—that showering together could be fun.

  “I love you,” she said, laughing helplessly as he dried her off, but mostly rubbed the places he liked best.

  He stilled for a moment, then dropped the towel over her head and rubbed her hair. She wished he could say the words.

  Not that it mattered. Whatever his past had been, the future was theirs to shape together. She’d work with him to see that it was as wonderful as it could be.

  And he was going to have to get used to her loving him. She intended to tell him often.

  A half hour later, she was ready to leave the house. Sam followed her out to the car, Lass in his arms. When the child was strapped into her seat, he paused by her door.

  “Take care.” His eyes caressed her, giving the words extra meaning.

  “You, too.” She lifted her face.

  He bent down until he could kiss her.

  “I love you,” she murmured when he straightened. “See you at one. Don’t be late.” She gave him a stern glance.

  Waving, she drove off. Halfway to town, she remembered what she’d been going to tell him last night. She’d call him when she arrived in town. He might still be at the house.

  No one answered the phone. On the tenth ring, Molly hung up and started to work.

  “Why are you crying, Krissie?” Molly lifted the four-year-old onto her lap and wiped the tears with a tissue.

  “Zack said I sounded funny,” the girl said. “He said my song was stoopid.“

  “Why did you believe him? Didn’t Miss Tiffany and I say your song was very nice?”

  “Y-yes,” Krissie said with a snuffle. Her blue eyes were filled with doubts.

  “We’re your teachers. We know how the song is supposed to sound. You sing it perfectly. I would have said if you’d gotten it wrong. Your mother and grandmother are going to be very proud when they hear it.”

  “You think so? My brother said it was a silly song.”

  “Well, he is simply wrong. I wouldn’t have a silly song in our play. It’s a fun song, and our guests will like it.”

  “Oh.”

  “Let’s dry those tears. We don’t want you to have red eyes instead of blue ones when the parents arrive, do we?”

  Molly gave Krissie an ice cube wrapped in a paper towel to hold to her eyes for a few minutes, then went to solve the next crisis. Blowing a strand of hair out of her face, she separated two trees who were fighting over their position at the front of the stage. “You stand here on the blue X, Zack. Tony goes on the red one.” She gave them a stern look, which settled them down for about a tenth of a second.

  Plopping into her chair, she wondered why she’d thought it would be a good idea to put on a play. The whole production was falling apart right before her eyes.

  With one eye on the kids and one on the clock, she ate a square of lasagna, some vegetable sticks wrapped in a cabbage leaf and gulped down a glass of tea.

  “I’m going to hang Sam from the church bell tower
if he doesn’t get here within the next five minutes,” she muttered to Tiffany as they helped the children clean up their lunch trays.

  “Did he get the house done?’’

  “Yes. It’s adorable. I can’t imagine why he’s late.”

  “Well, he was late a lot in picking up Lass.”

  “Yes, but that was before…” She trailed off, thinking of her marriage and that morning and the night before. She felt married now, a part of him as he was a part of her.

  “You’re blushing,” Tiffany said pointedly, her grin an equal mixture of envy and irony. “Marriage seems to agree with you. One month and you’re blossoming. Or are you increasing, as my grandmother used to say?”

  Molly fixed a stern eye on her friend. “That’s between my husband and me.”

  Tiffany smothered a giggle. “We’ll soon know. All the old biddies at church have been trying to decide if you and Sam had to get married.”

  “Honestly,” Molly mumbled, irritated that her life and her affairs were on the tongues of the local gossips.

  She heard the sound of an engine. Rushing to the window, she saw the ranch truck park and the two hands climb down. “Here they are,” she called to Tiffany and went out to help.

  “Where’s Sam?” she asked, going behind the truck.

  “Uh, something came up that he had to take care of. He’ll probably be by later,” Tom told her.

  She ignored the disappointment and directed the men in getting the gingerbread house inside and set up for the play.

  “Thirty minutes,” she reminded everyone as they scurried into costumes. She pulled the sheets, which were strung on wires, across the room to hide the riser that formed the stage.

  Tiffany ran to the store for ice to go in the punch that would be served during the social hour after the play. The first parents and neighbors arrived. Molly supervised her “greeters” at the door. The guests were escorted to their seats.

  Finally it was time. The folding chairs, borrowed from the church, were filled. Sandy and Tom stayed for the drama. She wished Sam could have come and wondered what he was doing that was so important.

  Just as she and Tiffany were about to pull the curtains, the door opened again, blowing the sheets inward. She peeked out and saw Elsie Tisdale slip inside. Molly smiled at the woman. When she had time, she’d find out what had happened to Sam.