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seemed to sense
her shock because his tongue receded and the pressure on her back
lessened slightly, but she did not pull back, and after a few
moments, she cautiously slid her own tongue forward. George
responded with a low moan in the back of his throat. He grabbed her
hard, nearly crushing her against his body. He lifted her up,
carrying her out of the workroom and back into the light of the
living room without once breaking their kiss.
    Slowly, he brought her onto the cot
in front of the fire, lowering himself on top of her. She could
feel his stiffness pressing against her, and suddenly she was
overcome with the need of him. Almost frantically, she began pawing
at his shirt, trying to get his clothes off of him and pull him
closer to her at the same time.
    He caught her hands and chuckled
softly. “We have time, Harriet. There is no need to rush,” he
whispered. He began kissing her neck and whispering to her while
undoing the buttons of her dress. “You are so beautiful. From the
moment you stormed into my house, all wildness and life, I wanted
you.”
    Harriet was barely listening; George
had slid her dress off and was kissing her breasts. She writhed
under him, moaning in pleasure. His hand moved down to her legs,
gently moving them apart. Then he came down on top of her, and
moving slowly, he pushed himself against her. She gasped and nearly
screamed, at the first shock of pain, but he gently pushed again,
and a quiver of pleasure ran through her, leaving her desperate for
more. She thrust her hips up, trying to take more of him in. He
shuddered at her excitement, and taking hold of her, he let himself
enter her completely. He moved on top of her, penetrating her
deeper each time, enjoying each of her little gasps and moans.
Finally she did scream, clutching his back, as she reached her
climax. When she came to herself, he still lay on top of her,
panting and exerted, their bodies intertwined.
    They slept for a time, George
molding himself to her back like a spoon, his arm tightly around
her. When she woke, it was full dark. George, sensing that she was
awake, pulled her on top of him, and they made love again in the
inky blackness of the night. Harriet whispered things to the dark
while they drifted off to sleep, exhausted and fulfilled once more.
Just before sleep pulled her under, she thought she heard the dark
answer, “I love you, too.”
    ~~~
    When she woke again, soft, pale
light was streaming in through cracks in the door and window, and
George was nowhere to be found. She was covered by a blanket, and
her clothes, dried out by the fire, were neatly folded on the
single chair. She got dressed and tried to make herself as
presentable as she could without the use of water or comb and using
the back of a spoon as a mirror. She had just resigned herself to a
disgraceful ride back to the Hall when the door opened, flooding
the room with light. George entered, carrying a kettle and looking
quizzically at her. “Going somewhere?” he asked lightly.
    Her relief at seeing him nearly
overwhelmed her. “I thought you had left.”
    He placed the kettle on the fire and
turned to her, frowning. “Then you don't think very highly of
me.”
    “That isn't what I meant. What's
that?” she pointed to a small bag he placed on the
table.
    He smiled then. “Breakfast.” Opening
the bag, he pulled out a juicy red cherry by the stem and popped
the whole thing in his mouth. He spit the pit into his hand and
offered her the bag. Shrugging, she selected one of the fruit and
bit into it. The delicate flesh burst in her mouth and a bit of
juice ran down her chin. Before she could wipe it off, George was
holding her face in his hands and trying to kiss the cherry juice
off her face. She laughed and tried to pull away, but he held her
tight, ignoring her squirming. His eyes suddenly became serious,
and she stopped struggling. He kissed her in earnest then, ignoring
the sticky sweetness of the juice. She was just thinking