He watched her gather a few things. “’Tis chilly, Remi. And the lake is sure to be freezing.”
She simply smiled; she knew she would not be alone in the water and wasn’t worried about the chill.
He followed her through the bush, still only half-dressed. When she reached the edge of the lake, she drew in a breath at the sight; limestone cliffs edged the water nearly halfway around, and the shore was of sand and not dirt. It looked heavenly.
Her silk dress came off, as did her stockings, slippers and shift. Stepping clear of her garments and grabbing her soap, she plunged into the cool waters of the lake and began frolicking like a fish.
He stood on the shore, entranced as he watched her splash about. She could swim better than anyone he had ever seen, floating way out in the middle of the lake and lathering an upstretched leg at the same time. Her glorious hair was slicked back on her head, making her big eyes look even bigger. The erotic sensuality of the situation grabbed at him, flooded him, and the more she swam, the hotter he became.
Remington heard a splash from the shore and knew Gaston would soon be upon her. Hands were suddenly touching her legs from under the water and she giggled as Gaston surfaced an inch from her face.
“You already had your bath,” she admonished softly.
“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, his voice raspy.
She shook her head and smiled.
His eyes were smoky with passion. “Give me the soap.”
Obediently, she handed it over and he worked it into a thick froth before massaging it into her hair. She closed her eyes briefly, his attention sending bolts of fire though her limbs.
“Hold on to me,” his voice was a husky whisper. “You shall tire yourself treading water.”
She latched onto him, aware that he wasn’t moving in the least; he was standing on the bottom of the lake.
He washed her hair within an inch of its life. She submerged herself completely, rinsing her hair, until Gaston pulled her upto the surface. He brought the wet hair to his nose, inhaling the special scent and running the strands between his lips. Remington watched him, forgetting to breathe, only aware of the liquid fire filling her veins.
She kissed him fully, her hair still on his lips. The bar of soap floated away on the surface of the lake as he clutched her fiercely to him, kissing her fully and deeply as that of a man starving. He couldn’t get enough of her.
Somehow amidst the kissing and suckling and tasting, they managed to move inshore. When the water level lowered to her waist, he scooped his huge hands under her armpits and lifted her high, meeting her breasts with his eager mouth.
Remington gasped with the raw sensuality of his touch, his actions. She brought her legs up, wrapping them around his chest as he held her body aloft. Her woman’s center brushed against his sternum, the coarse hair taunting him into wild arousal. But he was not ready to leave the sweetness of her breasts as of yet; they had teased him mercilessly all day yesterday and he would taste his fill before moving on to more delightful areas.
Remington was melting like fat on the fire. Her entire body was liquid, molten, begging for him to relieve her. His strength was unbelievable; he simply held her aloft while his mouth moved relentlessly. She wasn’t even supporting herself against him; her hands wound in his thick, dark tresses, encouraging him to ravish her.
Suddenly he lowered her against him, bringing his mouth to bear on her sweet, fragrant lips. Their kisses were feverish, demanding in the coolness of the lake, and Remington wrapped her legs tightly around his hips, feeling his huge arousal brushing against her buttocks, seeking.
He was kissing her so hard she nearly forgot her own name. His rock-hard shaft was driving her insane, for she could feel itbobbing and twitching against her as it sought her tender core. She wanted him in her, his solidity filling her, and she shifted her hips until his rod found the opening it was looking for.
She was so hot and wet that he slid into her easily, stretching wide her walls. They both groaned with the unbelievable pleasure of it and his hands moved to cup her buttocks.
“My God, Gaston,” she breathed, arms winding around his neck. “Surely God is jealous of our bliss.”
His breathing was ragged, heavy. “I thought you did not believe in God.”
She plunged herself down on him and he growled. “Only God could create you, my love. There is no other explanation.”
He growled again, latching onto her neck as he began to move of his own accord. His huge hands covered her buttocks completely, holding her to him as he slid in and out of her. The friction, the carnal pleasure, was beyond believing.
Remington held onto him for dear life, unable to move because he was holding her so tightly. She gave herself over to him, the power he aroused in her, and the liquid fire he sparked. The harder he pumped, the hotter the fire burned until it flared wildly and her muscles convulsed in an explosion of passion.
Gaston felt her walls throb, draw at him, demanding his own release. He tried to prolong his pleasure, but he could not refuse her demands. He spilled himself with a violent shudder, filling her with his life. Remington clutched him as if she were drowning, feeling every last throb with complete ecstasy.
The water cooled their overheated bodies as the sun peeked from the eastern horizon, turning the sky pinks and blues. They held each other as if time had no meaning, though in the back of Gaston’s sated mind, he knew the priest would come looking for them both shortly. His men were already up.
“Remi,” he whispered. “Finish your bath and get dressed. We must be moving on shortly.”
She pulled her head out of the crook of his neck, her damp hair curling wildly and her face flushed. She smiled. “Finish it for me.”
