With one swift motion Roman pulled her nightgown above her head and off her arms, then tossed it into the shadows. Taking her stiff nipple into his mouth, he began to show her the true meaning of lovemaking. “You’re going full circle tonight, Theodosia, and I’m going with you. Move with me, sweetheart.”
Though she had never lain with a man before this night, her body knew precisely what to do. Each time he slid out of her, she pressed her hips toward the ground, then raised them to join with him again.
Lost to everything but him, she listened as he murmured endearments and words of encouragement to her. His deep, rich voice caressing her senses, she gave herself up to him in complete abandon.
Her total surrender to him brought Roman a fresh surge of desire, and a more profound determination to take her to the highest pinnacle of ecstasy possible. Keeping his strokes long, deep, and steady, he moved to claim her mouth with his own, and while he drove his tongue between her soft lips, he circled his palm upon the stiff nipples of her erect breasts.
His skillful attentions to so many places on her body at once gave Theodosia the deepest pleasure she had yet to experience, and as her ecstasy rose, she felt her tight passage clutch at Roman, as if embracing him in tiny, rhythmic hugs. His presence inside her enhancing her fulfillment, her senses spinning, and her body bucking beneath him, she screamed out his name.
Her sensual contractions kindled a blaze within Roman’s loins. His hard slick body strained for control, but she pulsed so tightly, so sweetly around him that he ceased to fight back the bliss she offered but instead allowed her to bring him into the same fire of pleasure that consumed her.
Flames of bliss shot through his frame and caught his very soul afire. Shuddering from the extraordinary feelings he’d found in Theodosia’s arms, he kissed her with more passion than he’d ever before shown her…
And spilled his seed inside her.
Theodosia layin the crookof Roman’s arm, her body glistening with the dew of lovemaking and the sheen of moonbeams. A swath of ebony hair cascaded over her breasts, warm, thick, and soft as satin.
Lazily, she looked into her lover’s heavy-lidded eyes. “Was it as beautiful for you as it was for me?” she whispered.
Her question floated through him like a feather on a breeze. “Yes.”
“I will never forget this night, Roman.”
He trailed his hand down the curve of her back and over her bottom, finally resting it upon her smooth thigh. “Just in case you do, I’ll remind you in the morning.”
Realizing he meant to make love to her again when they awakened, she sighed in contentment. “I did not know,” she whispered. “Lovemaking. How could I ever have thought lovemaking to be a mere scientific procedure?”
He spread his kisses to her cheek and eyelids. “You believe everything you read. You should read to wonder. To wonder whether what you’re reading is true or not.” He tucked her more closely into the warm shelter of his body, then drew a blanket over her so the evening breeze would not chill her damp skin.
Read to wonder. Theodosia found the advice both wise and beautiful.
She lost herself in his deep blue eyes again and allowed her thoughts to take her where they would.
They kept her with Roman.
He was not only her friend, she mused, and not only her lover.
He’d become something more.
She glided her fingers into the silk black of his hair, dwelling upon the fact that she’d never doubted Brazil and her research would satisfy every yearning she’d ever had.
She was no longer so certain.
At dawnthe sound ofcrunching leaves broke through Roman’s dream. He had his Colt in hand even before he opened his eyes. “Quiet,” he ordered when Theodosia began to stir beside him.
“Don’t shoot,” a man’s voice called out from the thicket. “I ain’t here to do nary a bit o’ harm. Jest wanted a jag o’ breakfast if you’ve got any to share.”
Holding his revolver steady, Roman watched a man with a shock of white hair trudge out of the woods. The man led a swaybacked mule, upon whose back were piled burlap sacks and a small gray-faced dog.
“How do,” he man greeted, stopping beside the remains of the campfire. “I’m Oble Smott. I seed your wagon through the woods.”
Theodosia sat up in alarm, clutching the blankets to her breasts.
“Oh, pardon me, ma’am,” Oble said, tipping his hat. “I seed your wagon through the woods, but I shore didn’t see that y’all was nekkid. I’ll turn my back fer a spell whilst y’all git your clothes on.” Sensing that Oble Smott was but a harmless wanderer, Roman handed Theodosia her flannel nightgown, then rose and donned his breeches.
“This here’s Stub,” Oble said, scratching his mule’s long ears. “Stub fer stubborn. And my dog’s Chaparito. That’s Mexican fer Little Feller. I got ole Chaparito when I was down in Mexico some ten years ago. I ain’t never been back since on account o’ I couldn’t get me no food a’tall that weren’t swimmin’ in them chili gravies. Lord o’ mercy, them chili gravies give me somekindo’ powerful wind. I near ’bout blowed mysef right off the saddle whilst tryin’ to ride out o’ Mexico. Y’all dressed yit?”
Roman glanced at Theodosia and saw her tying the last ribbon on her nightgown. “We’re dressed.”
