"No one,", he said without hesitation. He propped himself up on an elbow and went on, "But I didn't expect to find you in bed with me, either."
"You thought I should have left after you went to sleep?"
"Of course not." Blast it, why was she misinterpreting everything he was trying to say? And why was he having so much trouble coming up with the words to make her understand? He took a deep breath and tried again. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be in bed with me. When I woke up, I thought everything that happened last night. . . Well, I thought I must have dreamed it."
"Dreamed it!" she exclaimed. "You didn't remember?"
"Oh, I remember, all fight," he said fervently. "I remember just about everything. But it was so wonderful I was afraid it couldn't have been real"
That helped a little. The creases on her forehead went away, and her body relaxed slightly. "It was real," she said quietly.
"I know." Cole leaned over her and brushed his lips across hers in a soft kiss. "Believe me, I know."
"Well, then, I suppose I forgive you for jumping like a scared rabbit when I touched you. Just don't make a habit of it"
"Do you intend to make a habit of it?"
"Of what?"
"Touching me."
She reached for him and breathed, "Oh, yes." Her fingers closed around his manhood again. "As much as possible."
He moved closer to her, but she pressed her other hand on his shoulder and said, "No. Lie back."
He did so, while she raised up and positioned herself above him, straddling his hips. She sat up straight as she lowered herself onto him, and the heat of her femininity engulfing him was almost more than he could withstand. He closed his eyes and moaned as she sank down until he was completely buried within her, as deep as he could possibly go. She put her hands on his chest for balance, then began rocking her hips back and forth, slowly at first, then faster and faster. He opened his eyes and gazed in wonder at her. She was beautiful, her face flushed with passion, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her breath coming fast and hard so that her breasts rose and fell enticingly. He couldn't stop himself from reaching up and cupping them, his thumbs going to the erect nipples to tease and strum.
Annabel cried out and thrust hard at him. This was the fastest, most urgent lovemaking they had shared so far, and somehow, the pace was perfect for this moment. Cole's hands tightened on her breasts. Her fingers dug into his chest. Her hips pushed down against his as she began to let out little panting cries of need.
Cole couldn't hold back. He let go of her breasts and moved his hands to her hips, gripping them firmly as his own hips thrust up. His legs trembled with the need for release. Then his climax washed over him and he held himself still as he emptied what seemed to be his very soul into her. Annabel closed her eyes, tipped her head back, and whimpered as her own culmination shuddered through her.
Then she leaned forward slowly, lowering herself onto his chest until she was cradled there in his arms. Her head rested on his shoulder. Cole reached up to stroke her hair, relishing the feeling of sweet intimacy between them at this moment. They were-as together as two people could possibly be, and a part of him wished that they could stay like this forever, that they could forget the rest of the world and just be here with each other . . .
That was impossible, of course, but for now, it was a dream he was going to hang on to, just as he was holding on to Annabel.
****
"I'm afraid your cook and housekeeper aren't going to like being sent home like that," Annabel said as she spooned scrambled eggs and sausage from the pan into the plate in front of Cole.
"They'll get over it," he said. "I’ll see that there's a little extra pay for any inconvenience."
Annabel put the rest of the food in her own plate and set the pan aside, then sat down opposite him. She had combed her hair and wrapped herself in one of his silk robes, and he thought she looked positively lovely.
He started to eat, enjoying the eggs and sausage and pancakes she had made after he'd sent the servants home. Annabel hadn't come downstairs until they were gone. He hadn't really expected such shyness and modesty from her, especially after some of the brazen things she had done in the past twelve hours. Not that he was complaining about that, he thought. It was amazing how things that might seem a bit . . . outlandish . . . became so pure and right, and in their own way almost innocent, when they were being done by two people who were completely, madly in love with each other.