Her Immortal Love (7 page)

He leaned closer, the warmth of his body enveloping her. “I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I first saw you. May I?”

She stared up at him. He was the handsomest man she’d ever been alone with and the first man she’d been alone with since the divorce. She didn’t know him from Adam and what little she knew seemed to raise more questions than answers. He was unlike any man she’d ever met, and that in itself made her hesitant. She wanted to trust him. Needed to trust him. She couldn’t go through the rest of her life afraid to trust. Afraid to live.

She nodded, her stomach whirling like a blender on the liquefy setting. He lowered his head until his lips met hers. She hadn’t kissed a man since her marriage to Douglas ended. She initially stiffened, even as Tristan’s warm, firm mouth demanded a response from her.

Slowly, she slid her arms about his waist and pressed her body against his. He held her tighter, his kiss deepening. He grabbed the bottom of the shirt he’d given her to wear and slid it up her hips. He moved his hands over her rear, kneading and caressing the cheeks, his tongue easing slowly between her lips.

Lydia moaned. It had been a while since she’d felt the touch of a man's hands on her body. And his tongue! He pushed it lustfully into her mouth and rolled it around with a delectable agility that was downright sinful. Dipping his hands to the small of her back, his fingers lightly grazed the soft skin. Her pulse skyrocketed, her knees loosening like water. Only his strong arms around her kept her from falling to the floor.

Breaking their kiss, he quickly unbuttoned her shirt and slid his hands up her waist to her bra. He cupped her breasts and rasped his thumbs across her nipples. They swelled and tightened.

“You are so beautiful, Lydia,” he murmured. “So very beautiful.”

She wanted to believe him. But on that day she’d finally confronted Douglas with irrefutable evidence of his affair, he bluntly told her that the reason he’d started seeing a younger woman was because she no longer excited him sexually.

Despite the months that had passed since he’d flung those hurtful words at her and in spite of Saffron's repeated attempts to convince her otherwise, Lydia could not help but see herself as Douglas had.

Old.

Tristan must have seen the doubt in her eyes. “You don't believe me.”

She shook her head and looked down. He gently took hold of her chin and raised her face back to his. “Come with me.”

He took her by the hand and led her to the door he’d gone through earlier. It opened into a hallway. To the left she heard the whir and bump of a washing machine.

He guided her down the hall, past another bathroom and into a bedroom. A huge bed covered with a burgundy and gold bedspread dominated the room, which included a large-screen television that hung on the wall and a desk upon which sat a computer. There were paintings here also and another bookshelf, though not as large as the one in the front room.

He opened a huge walk-in closet. His clothes and shoes were neatly arranged on hangers and shelves. A far cry from the chaos that had been Douglas’s closet. A full-length mirror hung on the door.

He positioned her in front of it. “Look at yourself.”

She did. But she couldn’t help but wince.

He slid the shirt off her shoulders and tossed it on the floor. He undid her bra, his eyes on hers in the mirror. Moving his hands over her naked breasts, he caressed them, the tips of his fingers sliding over their smooth plumpness.

She stared, transfixed, at his hands as they roamed over her body; her shoulders and breasts and hips and thighs.

He whispered in her ear. “I want so much to make love to you. Can't you feel how much I want you?” The bulge of his thick erection pressed against the curve of her buttocks.

Her heart pounded erratically and she gently pushed her ass against his groin. He smiled at her reflection. “The body of a goddess. To be worshipped and adored, to give pleasure and to be pleasured.”

He slid his hand around her hips and pressed it against the front of her panties. “Here is where life is nurtured.”

She bit her lip. He had no idea she was barren.

He moved his hands up her stomach and cupped her breasts. “And here is where that life draws its strength.’

His voice took on a lovely lilt, the words flowing from his mouth like a blessing. He moved his hands up to her shoulders then over to her face, caressing her lips and cheeks. “And here. The face of love itself.”

Tears stung her eyes.
Love
. She had loved Douglas and she thought he had loved her. Now she wasn’t sure if he had just fallen out of love with her or had never truly loved her at all.

“Lydia, what’s wrong?”

She looked at Tristan’s reflection in the mirror. “My husband left me. For a younger woman. He told me...” She stopped, her throat burning with the remembered pain. “He told me he didn’t want me anymore. That he didn’t find me sexually attractive anymore. That’s why he had an affair. That’s why he....” She stopped, unable to go on.

Tristan gently turned her around to face him. “I want you, Lydia. I’ve wanted you since that night I first saw you and not a day has gone by I haven’t thought about you. Ached for you. I looked for you everywhere I went, hoping and praying I’d see you again.” He traced her lower lip with the edge of his thumb. “Do you want me? Please, tell me that you do.”

She stared up at him. Was he joking? She had fantasized about him for weeks. “Yes, yes, I do. I want you.”

He lowered his head and kissed her again and their kiss deepened until Lydia thought she would faint from the dizzying sweetness of it.

He broke their kiss then, his eyes glittering roguishly, swept her up in his arms.

“What…what are you doing?” she cried.

He carried her over to the bed. “I'm sorry, Lydia, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to break that promise I made at the coffee shop.”

“Promise? What promise?”

He winked and grinned. “Not to ravish you.”

Chapter Five

Tristan lowered Lydia onto the bed. He moved his long, muscular body on top of hers and slid his firm lips along her throat. Apprehension flickered through her and she pressed her hands against his broad shoulders.

“Tristan?”

His warm breath caressed her neck. “Yes, sweet?”

“Do you….is this what you really want?”

He lifted his head and looked down at her, a quizzical expression on his face. “What?”

She bit her lip, her mind fluttering with anxiety. Despite the fact that she was here, in his arms, on his bed, it was still hard for her to believe he really wanted her. That he didn’t think her too old. “I mean, don’t get me wrong because I’m truly flattered and all that you appear to want to make love to me but—”

“Appear to want you?” He pressed the hot, hard length of his cock against the front of her panties. “I think that’s more than just appearing to want you.” He smiled warmly down at her. “I’ve wanted to make love to you since the moment I saw you at that club. I wanted to take you home that very night and fuck you senseless.”

Her throat tightened as she recalled that other young man at the club who had also wanted to fuck her. “You mean as in a one night stand?”

He frowned then reached down and gently stroked her hair. “No, not a one night stand. You’re not that kind of woman. I’m not that kind of man. I wanted to fuck you because you looked so beautiful and so tantalizing. But I also wanted to know you. I wanted to know everything there was about you.”

Pleasure swirled through her at his words, but doubts about how she must look to him remained. “But…doesn’t it bother you that I’m…?”

“That you’re what?” He stroked her lips with the tips of his fingers. “A woman of a certain age?”

Lydia nodded, her mouth trembling under his touch.

“No, it doesn't bother me,” he whispered against her mouth. “Not at all. And I promise you, it never will.”

He kissed her. Slowly, fully, divinely. He kissed her as no man had ever kissed her. As if she was the only thing in his universe.

Reaching up, she pushed her hands through his hair, her fingers threading through the warm, silky strands, and she kissed him back, her mouth burning with fire and need and lust.

He gently broke their kiss and looked down at her, his dark blue eyes gazing steadily into hers. And she saw in them something she had never seen in any man's eyes. Not even her ex-husband's.

Pure, unadulterated desire.

She gazed up at him, her heart madly pounding. This was what she had fantasized about all those nights since meeting him at the club. Him finding her and wanting her as much as she wanted him. And now her fantasy was about to become a reality.

He rose from the bed and with his gaze locked on hers took off his clothes. She stared at his naked body. The tall, sculptured frame. The broad shoulders and muscular chest. The flat stomach and long legs. And, finally, his cock, which jutted forward from the dark bush of his groin.

He was so beautiful. The most beautiful man she had ever seen. Seriously, what was she doing with someone like him? Or, better yet, what was someone like him doing with someone like her?

“Have you ever modeled?” She tried not to stare at his cock, but her eyes kept coming back to it, her fingers aching to touch it.

He climbed back on the bed and lay next to her, his head propped on one muscular arm. “What do you mean? Like in magazines?’

She shook her head. “For artists. You’re body...it’s...it’s perfectly proportioned.”

While in college, she had taken a life drawing course and one week the instructor had a male model come in and pose for them in the nude. He’d had a nice enough body and she had spent the entire week blushing, but his body was nothing compared to Tristan’s.

He grinned boyishly. “I have done that kind of modeling. In Paris.”

“Really?” She had always wanted to visit Paris, but Douglas had never been interested in going and she hadn’t wanted to go by herself. Not to the city of lights and love.

“Yes,” he said, “but it was some time ago.”

“Some time ago?” She laughed. “Tristan, you talk as if it were ages ago. You’re not that old.”

“It seems some time ago to me.” He pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.

Lydia moaned but his warm, insistent lips smothered any sounds she made. This time his kiss was demanding and it drew the very breath from her body. He took hold of her wrists and pushed them slowly up over her head. Holding her arms against the bed with one hand, he moved the other leisurely and deliberately down her body.

She shivered beneath him. His touch was so sure, so confident. He caressed her like a man who was familiar with and loved every inch and curve of a woman’s body. He lowered his head and slid his lips over the swollen mounds of her breasts, his hand still moving down her body. Lydia opened her legs. Tristan’s fingers delved deep into the soft, slick wetness of her pussy. He still gripped her wrists with his other hand.

He proceeded to fuck her with his fingers. She squirmed against the bed. Douglas had never done this to her. She'd asked him to a few times, but he had always looked at her as if she had grown another head. As far as he was concerned, the only thing that belonged inside her vagina was his penis. Not his fingers and, most especially, not his tongue.

Tristan slid his fingers out of her. She was about to protest for she had started to feel the subtle swelling of an orgasm, but she watched, spellbound, as he lifted his hand to his mouth. Gazing directly into her eyes, he licked the taste of her from his fingers.

Her heart beat hard and fast in her chest. He lowered his dark head down to her breasts and sucked greedily at her stiff nipples, his hand still locked tightly about her wrists.

She moaned and tossed her head back and forth as he sucked her breasts. He pressed her deeper into the bed, his long, wet tongue lithely licking her nipples.

“Oh, Tristan, please, please, let me touch you.”

He shook his head no. Keeping his hands firmly about her wrists, he continued to ravish her breasts. It was only a matter of time before she exploded from the delicious torture he was inflicting upon her.

He lifted his head from her breasts and looked up at her from over their tight, wet peaks. “I want to pleasure you first. I want you to come before we fuck.”

Her breath quickened. She couldn’t recall the last time she and Douglas had engaged in foreplay before having sex. Usually he would just play with her breasts for a bit, shove his penis inside her, thrash around for about a minute, climax, pull out and and roll onto his side to promptly fall asleep.

“Um, all right,” she said. “You...I mean, we can do that.”

Tristan chuckled. He let go of her wrists and moved his hands down her body. He cupped one of them over her mound. The other he placed on the soft flesh of the inside of her thigh. “Open your legs.”

Lydia did so, her heart pounding. She was still feeling nervous, but she also trusted him. Or, at least, she felt like she needed to trust him.

Using his fingers, he gently explored the soft, moist folds of her pussy. “Open wider, sweet. Let me see all of you. Feel all of you.” His voice was low, soft, seductive. “Let go. Don’t think. Just feel. Feel me touching you.”

She opened her legs wider, conscious of how her thighs must look to him. She did work out, but no amount of exercise could keep her thighs from thickening as she got older.

Tristan, however, gave no sign that he was in the least bit disgusted by her. He slowly pushed her pussy lips aside, his fingers sliding easily into her opening. He pushed his fingers deeper, her juices thickly coating them

“How does that feel?” he asked. “Feels good to me. Your hot, sweet cunt.”

The nerve endings of her body tingled while electrifying jolts of desire thrummed through her. “It feels...oh, God...it feels so good. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He laughed softly. “Oh, I don’t intend to. Not until you come.”

His fingers were deep enough inside her pussy that he was able to press his thumb against her clit. He slowly circled the pad of his thumb around it. Hot waves of pleasure surged through her and her mouth moistened. She licked her lips and arched her hips. He gently stroked her clit, his thumb achingly teasing it while his fingers continue to move inside her.