Christmas at a Highland Castle

Chapter 21

Dee couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex. It had been even longer since she’d made love – if she ever had. Somehow the shallow, grubby attentions of Henry had faded far away to the dark recesses of her memory. One benefit of living in such a large house was the fact that she hadn’t shared a bedroom with her husband since Freya had been born, had only been called upon by him sporadically since then, and lately not at all. That final fateful day, seeing his naked frame, pale and slack, as unrecognisable and otherworldly as something washed up on a beach – it had done nothing but turn her stomach.

By comparison, she couldn’t seem to keep her hands away from Robbie’s naked body. The warmth of his skin, the tautness of his chest, with its curl of greying hair fanning out, the way it narrowed to match the narrowing of his waist, leading her fingers lower …

For both of them, the first time had been way too fast. In the unfamiliar setting of his bedroom, Dee had felt overwhelmed by the delight Robbie showed in her body, the fact she hadn’t been naked in front of anyone other than Henry for over thirty years filling her with a fluctuating feeling of shame and a shuddering sensation of freedom. He had felt his way over every imperfect inch of her, touching every stubbornly remaining bit of loose skin across her belly, and each of the silvery post-natal stretch marks which still cobwebbed the undersides of her breasts, with as much enthusiasm as he had her nipples, her neck, her buttocks – and when she parted her legs to allow his fingers to chart a course inside her, she thought she might explode.

She hadn’t climaxed, though, that first time. There was too much going through her mind, too many stray thoughts, too much delight in the effect she was having on this magnificent man. To hold him as he came, cradle his face between her hands as he stayed deep inside her, kissing her with surprising tenderness as they both regained their breath. That had been enough.

‘Did you …?’ Robbie didn’t complete his question, his focus on her complete as they nestled side by side. She smiled but shook her head.

‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘It’s been a while.’

‘Me too. Abstinence seems to have had the opposite effect on me, though.’

Dee began to giggle, and Robbie huffed a laugh, his fingers trailing through her hair, pushing a wayward strand away from her eye and tucking it behind her ear. In a fluid movement, he drew her close again, his lips close enough to her ear to breathe his words almost directly into her brain.

‘Tell me what you want …’

He kissed her ear, catching her lobe gently between his teeth and teasing it. His breath came hot again, more words directly into her consciousness.

‘Tell me what you need, Dee …’

And before she knew what she was doing, the heat low down in her belly took over and Dee was telling him what she wanted, shocking herself with the ease with which the words tumbled from her lips, hot and fast and insistent. Never before had she instructed a lover, never once had she dared to tell Henry how she wanted to be touched.

Now she’d started, though, it was as if she couldn’t stop and Robbie was there, following her words with actions, unbelievable actions which Dee never wanted to come to an end. When she told Robbie she was on the edge of orgasm, he backed off and she almost screamed in frustration, only to realise he wanted to make it last longer for her. Her final shuddering release was something Dee was sure she was never going to forget, and the realisation that she’d never experienced anything close to this feeling before had her wrapping Robbie up in her arms, holding him close as her breath came fast and ragged. She stared at him as though she’d uncovered treasure, lost for a thousand years.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

The fact that she’d never been this OK before in her entire life had Dee unsure as to whether she was about to laugh or cry. In the end, tears took the lead.

‘I’m not sad,’ she said, the fact she was about to sob making it difficult to get the words out. ‘I’m just a bit overwhelmed.’

He held her close until he felt her sobs subside. ‘You are completely sensational,’ he said, breathing warmth into her hair.

Dee wasn’t sure she agreed. A middle-aged mess of wasted opportunity and squandered time seemed closer to the mark. She sniffed her internal description away, brightening her expression as she focused on him instead.

‘As are you,’ she said. ‘If only I’d known, I would have considered going full-on Connie Chatterley years ago.’

‘Who?’

‘She’s a lead character in Lady Chatterley’s Lover . It’s a novel about …’

‘About the lady of the house and her employee, I’m guessing,’ he said.

‘It was groundbreaking at the time. Was banned for a while in all sorts of places because it outraged the gentle folk. Such wanton debauchery.’

‘Now that’s a phrase,’ he said, his tone teasing, his focus still on her. ‘Wanton debauchery.’

Hearing the words from his lips had Dee breathing out a soft moan. ‘Never thought I’d hear you saying something like that,’ she said.

‘And yet, here we are,’ he said, smiling as he reached out to kiss her.

Yes, here they were .

In a way, Dee was glad Robbie didn’t recognise the character, or the novel, to which she was referring, and was pleased it hadn’t been something he’d read in his formative years. There was no way she wanted to think that the kernel of the idea might have lodged somewhere deep within his psyche, that his feelings for her might be nothing more than a repressed fantasy playing itself out in real time. Instead, she allowed herself to savour the moment, to relax into his kiss, to force everything else out of her mind and try to exist as nothing more than feelings and sensations, suspend time for a tiny while longer and instead remain inside this cocoon of joy. And when, sometime later, Dee finally gave in to a desperate need for proper sleep, it was the softest descent into quietness she could ever remember.