Page 49 of A Flaming Lady's Secret Valentine
When he was fully sheathed inside of her, he gave a guttural sigh.
She filled with pride, knowing she was pleasing him as much as he pleased her. She relished the painful pressure, moaning as he slipped out of her enough to reach over for the blanket at the foot of the bed.
“I do not want you to be cold,” he stammered, draping it over them.
She cupped his face and kissed him. He shuddered, easing himself inside her again.
Cecilia had not the words to explain what happened next. Slowly, Raphael drove himself in and out of her, gently at first, and then more impassionedly. He wrapped his arms around her as he worked her body, holding her so close she could barely breathe. She spoke words she could not hear, begged him for things she could not name. She had to cry out or she wouldburst.
It was not difficult to understand why so many women ruined themselves at the hands of men, ifthisis what awaited them past compromise.
“God in heaven,” she gasped as her pleasure began to crescendo.
The bed rocked and creaked beneath them. The snow fell beyond the glass.
It may have lasted five minutes. It may have lasted five years. They existed outside of time, in the realm of trust and desire.
And then it happened.
That great thing.
Raphael had slipped a hand between them, and he had touched her while driving into her, while watching her. His expression twisted suddenly, and his rhythm broke. She felt him spill inside of her, and the combination of it all was so delicious that her body responded in turn by exploding.
Her vision flashed white. Even Raphael disappeared.
She wailed his name, pushed over some invisible edge, succumbing body and soul to her climax. Her face burned. Her heat clenched and unclenched around him.
Somehow, it did not feel like an end but like a beginning.
“Are you all right?” Raphael asked after a while, still inside her.
Cecilia laughed, hiding her face. “All right? I am—” She cut herself off, surprised to find that she had begun to cry. “I am not sure what has happened. I am not sad. I am…”
She knew what she was.
I am yours.
In the moments that followed, Raphael attended her with care. He kissed her, then cleaned her off and wrapped her beneath the covers of his bed. Stepping into his trousers, he ventured to the kitchen and returned with a carafe of water for her.
She needed nothing except his embrace. She said as much, and he slipped beneath the covers.
For a long while they were silent, blissfully happy in each other’s arms. She hummed contentedly, stroking his forearm and lacing her fingers through his.
“What are you thinking?” Raphael whispered.
“I am thinking how very tired I am, and happy.” She turned on her side to face him. “Would you like to know something that will make you smile?”
Raphael nodded, smiling already.
“Istilldo not regret it. In fact, I would like to do that again, and soon.”
“Every day, you surprise me.”
“In a good way, I hope.”
He looked at her gravely, and she worried she had done something wrong.
“I love you, Cecilia.”
