Dancing at Midnight

"Is that all?"

"There is a stunning Aubusson carpet in the drawing room."

"Is that all?"

"Well," Belle said with a smile as they turned into her bedroom. "There is the master."

"The master?" John's eyes lit with delight.

"He's very attractive."

"Do you think so?" He kicked the door shut.

"Oh yes, very."

John's hands stole around to the cloth-covered buttons which marched down the center of her back. "I have a secret for you."

"You do?" Belle could feel her heart quickening at the touch of his warm hands on her skin.

"Mmm. This master you're speaking of… "

"Yes?"

"He likes you, too."

"Does he?"

John undid the last of her buttons and let the dress slide down her body, leaving her clad only in a silky little thing which drove his every sense wild. "He'd like to begin mastering you tonight."

"Mastering me?" Belle questioned, with just a hint of playful scolding in her voice for his choice of verbs.

"Well, he's done it once before, and he liked it quite a bit."

"Did he now?" Belle could barely get the words out, for John's hands were now moving up her legs, pushing her chemise over her thighs.

"Very, very much."

"Enough to spend a lifetime doing it?" she asked.

"Mmm-hmm. Enough to let you master him."

She cocked her head and smiled. "Really?"

"Oh, yes." His lips found the hollow where her neck met her shoulder.

Belle felt herself moving backwards until she felt the bed behind her. John's mouth had moved down to cover one of her breasts, and she was finding it very difficult to stand. They sank down onto the bed together.

The heat of his body seared her into the mattress for only a moment before he lifted himself up and tore his shirt off. "God, Belle," he said raggedly. "If you only knew…"

"If I only knew what?" she asked quietly, her eyes sliding over his bare chest with feminine appreciation.

His hands, which had been undoing the buttons on his trousers, stilled. "How much… What you…" He gave his head a little shake, as if to dislodge the words from his throat. "My life was…" He swallowed. "I don't know how to say it."

Belle reached out and took his hand. "Then show me."

He flattened her palm against his stomach and slid it up to his heart. "It beats for you," he whispered. "Only you."

He moved toward her slowly, as if pulled by some invisible thread connecting them. The rest of his clothing fell to the floor, and then he was with her, the heat of their bodies separated only by the thin silk of her chemise.

Belle could feel the urgency bursting within him. His hands roamed her skin with an energy that was almost frantic. Desire curled through her body, whipped up into white hot heat by his hands and lips and the incoherent whisperings of his mouth.

She tore at her chemise, trying to move it up her body, but he pushed her hands back down. "Leave it," he said. "I like it."

"But I want to feel you," she gasped.

"You can." He splayed his hand over her midriff. "I can feel you. And I feel silk, and heat, and desire."

Belle felt something quickening in her abdomen. Her breath was coming in short little pants. His hips were pressing against hers, the evidence of his desire nestled between her legs. "John, I-"

"What, love?"

"I want to feel you."

A shudder went through his body, and Belle could feel the tension in his muscles as he fought to control his desire.

"You don't have to go slowly," she whispered. "I want it, too."

His eyes flew to hers. "Belle, I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. You could never hurt me."

His hands moved to her legs, and he slowly separated them, pushing up her silky chemise in the process. The tip of his manhood found her, and he began to move forward.

Belle caught her breath as she felt him entering her. It was the most intimate of kisses, and she arched her hips to bring him even closer. His movements grew faster, more furious.

It was building within her. A force. A tension. It was growing, filling her.

John's breathing grew ragged. He sank his fingers into her hair, gasping her name as he pushed forward and back, his body lost in primal rhythm.

Belle was spiraling toward ecstasy. She clawed at his back, trying to reach something that was so close… and then she was there. Pleasure gripped her, and she screamed out his name.

But John didn't hear her. Her shouts were drowned out by his own as he surged forward one last time and exploded within her. He collapsed on top of her, his entire body heaving with exertion.

Many minutes later he rolled onto his side, pulling her along with him. Their bodies were now separated, but John held her close. "I want to fall asleep with you in my arms," he whispered. "I want to feel you, and to smell you. I want to know you're here."

Belle snuggled closer. "I'm not going anywhere."

John sighed, a smile forming on his lips. He nuzzled his face against her hair, dropping a kiss on top of her head. "My wife," he said, unable to keep a touch of wonder from his voice. "My wife."

Chapter 18

It wasn't until the next morning that Belle remembered to ask John about his conversation with Alex. He briefly considered hiding the truth from her, but one look into her inquisitive blue eyes reminded him that he respected her far too much to resort to subterfuge.