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belonged to her or to him, only that she was laughing and crying at the same time, and then she was kissing him.
         "Make love to me," his Ella said to him once again, after all this time. "Please, Connell."
         And this time there was no hesitation, no reason to say no. This time, he took her in his arms and carried her to his bed where they fell, both of them laughing until the laughter became sighs.

         He laid her down and covered her with his body. His hands came up to cup the sides of her face and brush the hair away. He looked into her eyes. Then he kissed her with such gentleness it made her want to weep again.
         She gave him the tears she'd been unable to shed for years, and he kissed them away. He kissed her eyes, her cheek, the line of her jaw. Connell nuzzled her ear, then the curve of her shoulder, and she tipped her head back to give him access to her throat, and he kissed her there too.
         His mouth, wet heat with a hint of teeth, made her gasp. He took her skin in his teeth and she arched into his bite. His hands moved down along her sides, then up to cup her breasts through her gown. She moaned his name.
         "Ella," he whispered, "I never stopped loving you. Not ever."
         "I never stopped loving you either."
         He paused in kissing her to prop himself on his elbows and look into her eyes. "I should've protected you."
         "Shhh." She shook her head. "That's all gone. He's gone. It's in the past. Let's make the present, here. Now."
         She reached up to pull him down to her. Their mouths met, opened, tongues darting, and it was as though no time had ever passed between them. He set her on fire as he always had. As no other man ever had. She took his hand and brought it again to her breast.
         He shivered and bent back to her neck, kissing and nibbling. She arched into his touch, encouraging him with small moans. He knew already how to touch her, how to urge her passion from her, only now each touch, each lick, each stroke and nibble, was magnified because it had been so long for her without pleasure, without passion, so long without the ability to feel.
         He moved down, undoing the small pearl buttons that lined her dress from throat to hem. Connell laid open the throat of her gown, baring her skin to his kiss. He found the curve of her collarbone and nipped it, earning a gasp, then smoothed his tongue along the place his teeth had already found. He kissed further down, his hands undoing the buttons without hesitation.
         He undid the buttons to her waist. Under her gown she wore a thin flaxene shift tied at the throat with ribbons. Connell unlaced her slowly while he kissed her mouth. The heat of his hands on her bare skin made her gasp.
         "Your skin is like silk," he whispered.
         His fingers circled her nipples, already hard, and he rolled them in the way he used to. The way that made tingling sparks of pleasure flood her veins, move along her body with each beat of her heart. Something had happened to her that made her gasp at the realization.
         "I've stopped," she said.
         He looked at her. "Stopped what, love?"
         "Counting," she said, and kissed him again.
         He left her mouth and moved downward again, lips sliding over her skin until he replaced his fingers with his tongue upon her nipples. He suckled first one, then the other, and she shivered under his touch. His hands slid down along the curve of her hips. His mouth kissed her ribs, then the hollow of her naval and the slight curve of her belly. He licked and kissed and nuzzled her skin.
         He paused to take her hand and pull her up so she could slip her arms out of her clothes. Sitting, she bared herself to him, nervous for the first time. She was no longer the girl he'd loved. Time had been kind to her, but her body had changed. She pushed the material down over her hips and watched him watch