Titanic's Ondine (6 page)

“Is that what you want?” John turned onto his side to look deep in her eyes.

She couldn’t lie. “No. What I want is a future with you, but I understand that’s a big ask.”

“You don’t really know anything about me, Madeleine. For all you know, I could be some criminal lowlife with a string of girlfriends lining the length and breadth of the country.”

It was possible. But, where this particular man was concerned, she trusted her judgment.

“I know the essence of who you are, John. You’re a kind, loving man who looks after those close to him, and I don’t think anything can change that.” Not even a different body.

“I have to tell you, Madeleine, I’ve never thought about a future with anyone. I always put my family first and foremost, but even I know what we have here is something too great to turn my back on. I can’t promise you anything, but I’m willing to give us a shot.”

Madeleine held her breath waiting for him to change his mind, afraid this wonderful dream could be stolen from her if she dared to believe it possible.

“There is one problem, though.”

There it was, the kick in the teeth she knew was coming.

She swallowed, the anxiety cloying at her throat. “What’s that?”

“To some extent, I can believe your claim of being an Ondine. After all, I’m sure I’ll get the chance to witness it in the future for myself. As for Joe and the whole Titanic episode, I’m sorry, but we are going to have to consign that to the past where it belongs. I want us to start afresh, free of guilt and fragmented memories, and make it work as the people we are today.”

He had given her the lifeline she needed, and, grabbing hold, Madeleine exhaled a sigh of relief.

“In that case, let me introduce myself. I’m Madeleine, an Ondine.”

She held out her hand for him to shake as if they had only met and weren’t lying naked in the aftermath of some spectacular lovemaking.

He shook it good-naturedly. “I’m John Morrison, bank manager and recently discovered stud muffin.”

With a quick yank, he pulled her across the bed so that their bodies touched at some very interesting contact points.

“You’re very forward.”

She giggled, feeling his cock springing back to life against her thigh.

“I’ve decided life’s too short to hang around waiting. If there’s something you want, you’ve got to go for it.”

He traced a hand over the swell of her breast, the palm of his hand skimming over her nipple, making it stand at attention.

“And what is it you want?” she asked, faking coyness when her pussy was already wet with want.

“You.”

He took her mouth with his, capturing her contented sigh and turning it into a passionate moan with a flick of his tongue. He brought goose bumps to every inch of her skin as he stroked a hand along her body. She nearly lost her mind when it dipped over the flat of her belly and down into the lips of her pussy. And, when he slipped a finger in to stroke her clit, she rubbed herself against him like a purring kitty.

That skilled digit pushed and pulled her into raptures, swirling and fucking her to a violently quick climax. The relief was short-lived as the head of his erection nudged her entrance and teased her back to the point of almost-orgasm.

“John . . . .” She practically begged him to end her torture and slide into her.

Instead of complying, he kissed the skin at her neck and across her collarbone, leaving her so sensitive she thought she might come again if he so much as looked at her. She writhed and moaned beneath him in some frustration until he entered her in one sleek, satisfying thrust.

As they moved together, neither the time nor the place mattered. Madeleine knew they were meant to be together forever.

About the Author

Jorja is a British author, with both Irish and Scottish roots, which makes for a very dry sense of humor; a necessity when living in a country where the climate is more suitable for ducks than humans. By day, Jorja is a mild-mannered pillar of virtue. By night, she is a purveyor of smut and a writer of filth. Well, that’s how her other half describes her, with his tongue firmly in cheek, and who is she to argue?

http://jorjalovettauthor.weebly.com