Page 54 of The Perfect Arrangement

They had faced all the joyous times the same way they’d endured them—together.

“You didn’t have to reserve a private car, you know.” Lillian glanced around the luxurious accommodations. Bernadette and her family would be joining them when the train stopped, halfway to town, but for now they had it all to themselves. “You still spoil me.”

“Perhaps I have ulterior motives.”

The low grumbling sound in his voice sent that familiar heat rushing through her.

After sharing a bed almost every night of the thirty-eight years they’d been married, and having given birth six times, she still shivered in anticipation of this man’s touch.

She turned her head and stared into his eyes. His chestnut hair was more silver than brown, and creases at the edges of his eyes, behind his spectacles, gave away his years. But those eyes still teased her, still flirted with her.

Love had made him more handsome than he’d ever been.

“Ulterior motives?” Her own voice sounded an octave lower than it normally did.

“Indeed.”

Taking her hand, he led her to the spacious bed at the opposite end of the car. “I must admit, this is far more comfortable than making love in a carriage.”

A bolt of lightning surged down her spine. Oh, but the things he’d done to her in that carriage ride all those years ago. He’d introduced her to delights she’d not ever imagined possible.

And the things she’d done to him.

Never shy with him, Lillian reached beneath her skirts, and lowered her pantaloons to her ankles at the same time he unfastened the buttons of his trousers.

“Careful, Lillylove.” He grasped her waist as she stepped out of them, keeping her from falling when the car lurched unexpectedly. How many times had they performed this ritual together? And yet anticipation simmered for both of them. She could tell. She could always tell.

By the way his hand lingered on her thigh, the way he stared at her with slightly hooded eyes, and that little catch in his breath.

Locking his gaze with hers, Christian lowered himself to the bed and pulled her right along with him, fluffing her skirts as she straddled his hips. He’d helped her undress so many times that she sometimes felt he knew the working of her gowns better than Becky did.

HIs fingers found her crease, stroking her, preparing her, holding back until she was ready. Lillian clutched his shoulders, moving her hips against his hand, parting her lips, knowing that the moment she took him into her body he would claim her mouth with his.

Each time the car swayed and rocked, the head of his cock teased her entrance.

“So good.” Christian breathed, his pupils large.

While still coherent, Lillian slid his spectacles off and tossed them toward the head of the bed.

It still felt as intimate as the first time she’d done it.

He buried his face in her neck. She shivered when his breath trailed to her cleavage.

Unable to wait a second longer, Lillian relaxed her knees, stretching around him until she was seated completely. So full. So familiar. He made her whole.

Always they came back to this.

“I love you so much,” she whispered, moving with him, with the train, in a rhythm as old as time.

“Only you.” HIs mouth captured hers, exploring frantically. His taste that of comfort, of friendship, of desire.

He tasted like love.

“Forever,” she whispered.

And never knowing what was to come, only knowing what was now, they touched and kissed and caressed, stroking one another to completion and grateful for the precious gift of life.

Laying side by side afterward, breathing heavily but satisfied and languid, Lillian draped her leg across her husband’s thigh. They were both wrinkled and sweaty and would soon need to clean up, but she couldn’t help but press her lips to his temple.

“See… there you go spoiling me again,” she exhaled loudly as though making love with her husband was a hardship.

“Poor sweetheart.” His palm covered her backside, fuller than it had once been, and she suspected, scarred with the same tiny silver lines as her abdomen. He slid his hand over her skin, lovingly, tenderly, followed by a gentle slap. “Just making up for breaking our original contract.” He smiled that same smile she’d fallen in love with the day she’d agreed to their so-called perfect arrangement.

“Go right on breaking it, my love, go right on breaking it.”

Which I’m happy to say, dear reader, he did.

***The End***