Page 32 of The Scent of Snow
He guided his cock into her sheath, and pleasure burst through his veins, so acute it obliterated all else.
Inside her, he was.
Pedro made love to her like the sun coaxed the seasons from flowers, slowly, tenderly, drinking her moans and sighs. He was so attuned to her needs, the barriers of body vanished, and they were one, propelled by the rhythms of nature, of tides, of seasons, sowing and reaping.
He stood still, feeling her warmth enveloping him, pulsing against him, the puffs of her breaths over his neck. He kissed lips, cheeks, eyelids. Then he pulled away to look into her eyes. In her eyes, he saw their future, her love, his love, eternity.
She shuddered around him, her eyes closing, her lips parted in a wordless breath. He grounded her with his hands over her hips. He thrust into her sheath and lingered, thrust and lingered, and when she cried out her pleasure, he guided her to her back and mounted her, holding her knee to his hip.
She cradled his face. “Give me all of yourself. I want it all.”
Her words were true. Anne accepted him, the good and the bad, the warrior and the lover, the healer and the ruthless. And so he moved. She blessed him with her touch, and so he thrust. Breathing heavily, his heart pounding out of control, he pushed inside her one more time and shuddered, pouring his seed into her womb.
Anne blinked awake. The open curtains beckoned a milky light, bathing the room with dawn's ethereal sheen. Pedro stood between the window and the bed, watching her, his expression almost boyish in its impatience.
"Finally, Lady Daun." He extended his hand to her.
Pedro wore Cossack trousers, his bare chest catching the sun's rays, casting his skin in bronze and gold.
She shifted on the mattress, the fabric rustling softly beneath her. Anne’s bare feet pressed into the plush carpet. He leaned in, his lips brushing her cheek, a fleeting touch that sent a tingle down her spine. Drawing her into his embrace, they both reclined on the window seat, their heartbeats synchronizing.
She settled into his lap, and when his arms enveloped her, she cocooned closer, a seed burrowing for winter. Anne took a deep breath, inhaling Pedro’s musky scent, and her fingers traced the rough texture of his goatee.
“I have something to show you,” he murmured against her lips and opened the curtains. “Merry Christmas.”
The landscape beyond was transformed. A pristine blanket of snow covered the lawn, the formal gardens, the paddocks, making the world appear untouched and serene. Snowflakes floated leisurely from the heavens, catching the morning light and shimmering like tiny diamonds.
Awed, Anne placed her fingers over the glass. “Yesterday, the bridge crumbled, and today it snows. The curse was lifted.”
“Just a coincidence,” Pedro murmured, but he seemed so at peace, much more than she ever saw him.
The world outside was hushed. Without the river’s murmuring, the silence soothed her soul.
In the distance, Erebus and Hemera walked towards the stable. Erebus, with his dark coat, stood out starkly against the white hills. Hemera was like a snow sculpture conjured from the winter landscape.
“I can’t wait to see their foal. I knew Erebus would never hurt her.”
“You are a wise woman, Anne.”
Shifting in Pedro’s lap, she opened the window. Anne’s breath caught as a brisk winter breeze slipped in. The chill was infused with the resinous scent of evergreens. Yet, underlying it was something more. She could scent it — pure and white, beginning and end, renewal — the snow.
“I can scent it, love. I can scent the snow,” she whispered.
Her fingers cradled Pedro’s face, feeling the rough stubble beneath her fingertips. She closed her eyes and saw a little boy, golden waves floating in the breeze. Happiness unfurled in her chest.
Pedro’s gaze was intense as he knelt before her. He unwrapped the sheet from her body. Tenderly, his fingers explored the curve of her stomach, his tanned hand contrasting against her pale skin. “You seem so small here to carry a child. I would do it for you,” he said gruffly.
A lone tear, glistening like a precious gem, escaped from the corner of his eye to land on her belly. She felt the drop, and her tears coursed down her cheeks.
“Ana,” his voice was rough with emotion, “I will protect you and our baby with my dying breath.”
Chapter 12
HandclaspedinPedro’s,Anne left through the front door. The family had gathered in the garden, watching the children play. The air was crisp and carried with it the delicious scent of snow.
Henrique wiggled his brows at them. “Look who decided to appear. We missed our hosts during dinner yesterday. Not that we doubted what you were doing. The sounds, they were indeed an entertainment.”
Pedro narrowed his eyes at his friend, and Henrique lifted his hands in front of his chest. “Please don’t remove my thumbs. My wife is fond of them.”
