The Unexpected Child. Kate Walker

Pierce’s hands where he touched, from his mouth where it pressed against her skin. She was adrift, unable to think, knowing only that this was what she had wanted for so long, and she couldn’t believe it was real.

      ‘Don’t be shy, Natalie.’ Pierce’s voice was husky in her ear. ‘Relax, darling—touch me.’

      ‘Touch me’! She felt as if she had been given the key that would unlock the chains that held her, binding her to the earth. To have the freedom to touch him, caress him, kiss him, was all she had ever wanted, and now he had given it to her, not even knowing how much it meant. She felt as if she was soaring, floating high up into a golden sky where the heat of the sun warmed her blood, driving away all caution, all restraint.

      ‘Like this?’

      Her fingers gloried in the feel of him, the warmth of his skin, the power of hard muscle underneath. She let them wander where they wanted, down the long back, over the narrow hips, smiling secretly to herself as he jerked convulsively under her touch.

      ‘Yes, like that- Oh, yes! But- Oh, God, Nat!’

      Hard fingers gripped her shoulders, pulling her underneath him, his breathing ragged and uneven, and she felt a faint whisper of fear across her skin, just for a second. But then he kissed her again, muttering her name against her lips, and all tension vanished. This was Pierce—the man she had loved for so long. And this was what she had wanted—for ever, it seemed.

      But however much she wanted it there was still the sharp stab of pain that clenched her muscles involuntarily against the hard force of his invasion, her tension and the small cry she couldn’t hold back stilling him at once to stare down at her shadowed face.

      ‘Natalie,’ he said unsteadily. ‘Nat...?’

      ‘No!’ She was suddenly fearful that he would stop, that, recognising her inexperience, he would no longer want her as he had just moments before. ‘Don’t stop.’

      ‘But Nat-’

      ‘I said, don’t stop!’

      Instinct came to her aid, relaxing the muscles that had tightened, making her move slightly under him, awkwardly at first, but then more sensually, more confidently, as an inner, intuitive rhythm took control.

      ‘Natalie—’

      Her name was a shaken cry, choked off as she kissed the protest from his lips, stroking her hands across his skin, down over the powerful ribcage, sliding them round the narrow waist, slipping lower...

      ‘Nat—sweetheart—don’t—I can‘t—’

      The husky desperation in Pierce’s voice went straight to her head like a glass of the most potent spirit, combining with the soft tug of his mouth at her breast to send her soaring into a world of delight such as she had never known before. She had never felt so free, so sure—so alive. Every move was made without thinking, every caress a delight, and somewhere ahead, like the light at the end of a tunnel, was something...

      She was reaching—reaching for it—when suddenly, far sooner than she had anticipated, and well before she was emotionally ready, she felt the world explode around her in a shower of stars. A moment later Pierce gave a sharp cry, his whole body tightened and he crushed her hard against him, his arms like bands of steel, until, slowly, he subsided against her, his breathing ragged and uneven.

      Coming back to reality slowly and painfully, Natalie was only aware of one thought in her mind, like a nagging ache through the glow of fulfilment.

      It was over. That brief moment of delight was all she would ever know of Pierce’s love. No—not his love, because for him it had only been a way of holding back the darkness, filling the emptiness for a short time. But for her it had been the magic of giving herself to the man who had held her heart in his hands for so many years, and now, too soon—far, far too soon—it was over. In spite of herself, she couldn’t hold back a faint sigh of regret, tears burning her eyes.

      ‘Oh, God, Nat—I’m sorry.’ To her distress, Pierce had caught the slight sound.

      ‘No.’ She closed his mouth with her fingers. ‘Pierce—please!’

      She didn’t want him to talk; didn’t want any recriminations, any post-mortems.

      ‘Damn it, this wasn’t how I meant it to be,’ he muttered against her hand, but even through the anger she could hear how exhaustion was blurring his voice again, the stress of the day, the long journey, and the effects of the wine he had drunk, claiming him again even though he was trying so hard to fight them.

      ‘I know.’

      Once more, instinct came to her aid, driving her to lift her hands to his hair, smoothing, stroking gently, feeling the tension in the powerful body ease slowly, like the tide ebbing away from the shore.

      ‘I know—but it doesn’t matter. It’s not important.’

      What mattered—all that really mattered to her—was that just this once, for one brief moment at least, he had wanted her, and no one else, and, knowing that, how could she ever say that what had happened had been wrong in any way, or ever regret it?

      Beside her, Pierce sighed deeply, losing the battle to keep his heavy lids from closing, his muscled frame relaxing as he slid into sleep, and a small, sad smile curled her lips. He had wanted her, but not enough. Enough for tonight, perhaps, but not for the lifetime commitment she dreamed of.

      ‘Next time...’

      The words were just a breath, long-drawn-out and barely audible, oblivion claiming Pierce even as he tried to form them.