Page 137 of Modern Romance Collection March 2025 (1-4)

MEL WOKE FROMa sleep infused with the scent of cedarwood and sweat, her body slick with longing, yearning for a connection, giddy with release…

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the half-light, for her ears to hear the storm battering the shutters outside… And to realise that Rene’s scent wasn’t a phantom memory any more from four years ago, and the warmth of his skin was real—her cheek pressed into the strong muscles of his back. For a moment she lay there, simply inhaling his distinctive scent and listening to the murmur of his breathing as she absorbed the shift from dreams to reality.

She wasn’t that naïve girl any more, with delusions of love and for ever, but still it felt so good to be with him again—warm, safe, secure. He’d saved her. And that meant something. Although her exhausted brain couldn’t quite figure out what.

But then he grunted and turned towards her. ‘Melody?’ he murmured, his voice gruff with sleep.

He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close. Her heart jumped into her throat as she hugged him back, instinctively seeking the vivid connection they had once shared so briefly.

‘I’m here.’ She stroked his chest, the hair soft and springy against her palm, the beat of his heart solid and so reassuring. ‘We’re safe.’

He buried his face against her hair, his lips nuzzling her neck. The burst of joy and validation was so sudden it felt like a continuation of the vivid dreams she’d had so often, reliving the pleasure, and the foolish infatuation, from that night. But the languid longing only became fiercer and more undeniable as the outline of his erection pressed against her belly through his shorts.

‘Need you,’ he moaned, his hands stroking, caressing.

But the longing didn’t feel foolish or sentimental now. It felt elemental and life-affirming as she freed the thick length from his shorts—and found him hard and ready. For her.

‘Yes, I need you as well,’ she replied, heady with desperation as he delved into her panties to find her slick folds—touching, stroking, circling until the hunger became sharp and insistent.

He groaned, the sound rich with relief as he grasped her hips, angled her pelvis.

He levered up and over her, his urgency, his focus making her ache even more, her tired brain clinging to one thought:I need him tonight, just to prove that I’m alive. That we’ve survived.

He tore away the damp lace shielding her sex, but then found her core again with his fingers—using his thumb to drive her into a frenzy. She bucked beneath him, her sobs drowning out the sound of the storm which had nearly killed them both.

She groaned as the ache inside her turned to desperate pain, her body primed and needy.

‘Don’t wait,’ she urged, knowing she wanted him to be inside her when she reached her release.

He dragged her knees up and plunged into her at last.

She welcomed the thick weight of him, driving deep, stretching her unbearably—joining them together again.

One thrust, two… The heady feeling of connection surged as exquisite pain turned to tortured pleasure and the glorious release exploded through her body, shattering her with stunning force. She heard his guttural shout, felt the slick heat inside her as he climaxed, too.

He collapsed next to her, then dragged her towards him. She snuggled into his arms and let herself tumble back into an exhausted sleep, safe and sated and secure again for the first time in four years.

* * *

Mel’s eyelids fluttered open hours later, her body humming even as discomfort intruded too. Her mind drifted for a moment, still floating on a sea of sensation, and blissful ignorance. But, gradually, the anchor of reality drew her back to the surface. She became aware of the rush of wind, the rhythmic thump of the shutters rattling against the window frames, which had woken her in the night, the ambient blue, now joined by the muted daylight. And the subtle aches and pains—at her core, between her thighs and against her hip, where the floor was hard and unyielding.

She blinked and the shimmer of remembered pleasure dissolved in a rush, to be replaced by full consciousness as she became aware of Rene breathing heavily beside her.

Realisation struck. Of what she’d done. Whatthey’dboth done… Together, during the night.

She felt sore, used, still branded by the huge erection—which she’d begged him for. Not to mention the fierce rush of pleasure, followed by that foolish rush of validation.

Mel, you absolute idiot.

Emotions blindsided her—but in the cruel light of morning they were panicked and shaming, no longer visceral and life-affirming.

She shifted and stifled a groan.

The soreness, though, where Rene had taken her so comprehensively during the night, was nothing compared to the brutal regret making her ribs hurt. Because this was still Rene, the man she’d kidded herself cared for her once before.

Good grief, when would she ever learn? Yes, he’d been magnificent during the storm, protecting her, saving her, but giving in to the desire for a connection with him again, while they had both been barely awake, was madness.

She lay on her back, staring at the vaulted ceiling, scared to move, scared to look at the man beside her, slowly becoming aware too of the residue of his release, which had dried between her thighs during the night.

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