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He urged me back on the cushion and then jerked me down, his fingers indenting on my thighs in a way that had me wondering if I’d have bruises on the morrow. They’d be badges of honor if they did manifest.

He urged my thighs apart, moving closer to drape first one and then the other leg over his broad shoulders as he flashed me a lascivious grin.

And then he descended.

He ran his turgid tongue along the length of me several times, then delved deeply, swirling and twisting that wonderful muscle in ways no other lover had (and I have been with a great many and varied bedpartners over my long life). Just as he had me panting, he retreated, but not far, just up a bit to lap at that bundle of nerves already throbbing for him. For more.

He repeated the process several times, always keeping me guessing as to what he would do next. All I could do was try to breathe and grip his sandy hair in my fists, urging him on as my body came alive.

When I finally crested that peak and cried out my pleasure to the night, my muscles locked tight and core convulsing in a seemingly never-ending wave, he drank of me as if I were the finest wine.

With one final scandalous lick, he raised his head, a knowing smirk on his face, and then told me I was delicious as he took my lips in a searing kiss so I could taste for myself.

In that moment, I wanted to return the favor. I wanted to see how he tasted and thought back to my initial thoughts as I’d felt the evidence of his desire on my stomach. When I told him as much, he actually declined. I wasn’t sure that a man before him had ever said no to having my lips wrapped around their cock. But this one, he said that he wanted to be deep inside me when he found his release. That he wanted to feel me squeezing him so tightly it was almost painful before I shattered and screamed his name to the heavens.

And that’s exactly what he did.

With barely a warning, he sheathed himself in me, to the hilt, and the wanton invasion startled a gasp out of me. As expected, he stretched me delightfully and hit me so deeply, the combination of sensations was just shy of pain. But that fever-bright edge of pleasure-pain only coiled my need tighter.

He set a beautiful rhythm, not too fast and not too slow, and I swiveled and lifted my hips to meet each thrust, holding on for the ride, my arms barely able to wrap around his broad chest and shoulders, my nails digging in.

He hissed at one point and asked for more, and I obliged, scoring his back with evidence of the pleasure he wrought.

When he shifted positions and found that spot deep inside me, I did indeed see stars. And he was punishing in his single-minded tenacity to wring every last ounce of pleasure from me until I did—as he’d wanted—scream his name to the moon, the night birds taking flight from the trees, their cries in harmony with mine.

Even now, in the quiet of my room, I remember the ecstasy. I felt that orgasm from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and everywhere in between. The tingling rush and tightening release as I simply let go and gave myself over to the pleasure. It was extraordinary.

I had assumed that he would follow me, but he surprised me yet again by picking me up in one deft move and moving us both to the cool dampness of the lawn, the chilled dew a striking contrast to my heated flesh.

He positioned me on my hands and knees, running a calloused palm down my spine and eliciting a shiver before caressing and grasping one round globe of my ass.

He gently lowered my head with a hand on my hair, and I felt his broad tip at my entrance. I braced myself for another invasion, but he eased himself in this time with aching slowness, tiny advances and delightful retreats, the friction of the slide making my body come alive again in ways I didn’t think possible.

When the teasing almost became too much, I pushed back into him, and he moved his hands to hold me still, gently admonishing me before leaning over to nip my earlobe and swirl that incomparable tongue around the shell of my ear.

He continued his erotic torment until I found myself doing something I didn’t remember ever doing before. I begged. I pleaded. I whimpered for release. I wanted to feel bad about that, but I didn’t. And even now as I write this, I don’t. I loved that he had given me something I hadn’t experienced before.

But those words, the sounds I let free, seemed to make something snap in him. Suddenly, he was thrusting with such an intensity, I worried it might break me, but…what a way to go. When he reached around and down and pressed against my clit, I erupted in another intense orgasm, the force of it locking the air in my lungs.

With two final thrusts, his thighs connecting with mine, he roared his release to the night.

I still couldn’t catch my breath, much less hold myself up any longer, but before I could extricate myself or fall flat on my face, he rose and urged me up with him, the two of us still connected, still throbbing. He loosely wrapped a gentle hand around my throat, his thumb caressing my pulse point, and kissed my shoulder, then my neck, causing a new flurry of goose bumps to rise.

I tipped my head to the side to give him better access, and he didn’t disappoint. Just as I felt him starting to slip free of me, he kissed the spot behind my ear, gently, sweetly, making me sigh. And then he whispered something I will never forget.

He said, “You are a remarkable and extraordinary creature, Wilhelmina Colyns. You have beauty to rival the gods, and cunning to put any cave cat to shame. You have utterly bewitched me, and I shall never forget you for as long as I live. I will take these memories with me into battle when next I am called.”

I turned in his arms and kissed him then, showing him without words how much I appreciated the evening, as well. We had given each other things that I didn’t think either of us realized were missing.

We dressed in silence, simply stealing appreciative glances at each other. He helped me with the last bits of my corset and gown, even though I didn’t need the help, and I assisted in straightening the lapels of his vest and the cuffs of his shirt.

We shared one last dance under the stars, no music but the sounds nature provided, and then kissed sweetly one last time, an intimate goodbye.

I turned as I was leaving the clearing, wanting a mental portrait of the setting to take with me. General Ximien was fastening his sword belt around his waist and tucking a wicked-looking dagger into his boot but looked up at me with such a look of reverence it made my body flush.

He called to me that he’d find me again, and I gave him a saucy wink and told him he could try, then made my way through the intricate hedgerow maze once more, so dazed from pleasure that I took a couple of wrong turns and had to double back.

When I reached my carriage and headed home, the events of the night continued to play in my mind, just as they do now.