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They walked for approximately two hours, sometimes talking about the sights they saw (mostly deer, sheep, and cows) and sometimes enjoying a companionable silence, each deep in his or her own thoughts. Gwen seemed disinclined to discuss any of the weighty issues that occupied his mind, and he wordlessly agreed to the truce, content to simply enjoy being in her company.

He volunteered to water the horses while she went to cool off in the lake. That accomplished, he hobbled the horses as instructed, doled out their supplemental feed, pointed out the ample grass to be had for the savvy horse who knew his way around the concept of grazing, and returned to their little camp to lay out the food contained in the picnic basket before shaking out the two bedrolls that had been attached to the saddles. Once all was arranged to his satisfaction, he went to tell Gwen that their supper was ready.

She was naked. Naked and wet, her dark hair slicked back like a seal while she swam lazily near the shore, a look of abstract pleasure on her face. He imagined the cool water caressing her flesh. He imagined how it would turn her already satiny skin into that which resembled oiled silk. He envisioned the way the water would lap gently at her breasts and woman’s parts, and all those wonderful other bits and pieces that made up the enticing whole.

It took him all of three seconds to uncleave his tongue from the roof of his mouth and strip himself before plunging into the lake with much splashing. The noise caught her attention and she stopped swimming to stare at him, her eyes widening as the water closed over his (rampantly erect) penis. Not even the chill of the water could quell his aroused state. Once the water was waist-high, he dove, heading straight for the two long legs that sang such a sweet siren song.

“Glorious heavens,” she gasped as he broke the surface of the water. He pulled her to him, reveling in the feel of her body sliding against his. The water reached to about the middle of his chest, allowing him to stand in the soft mud of the lake and hold her tight. The sensation was almost as good as her mouth, which he tasted again and again until they were both out of breath.

“It’s not heaven yet,” he promised with a knowing look, taking a gulp of air. “But give me a couple of minutes, and it will be.”

“Gregory—”

That was all he heard before he dove back into the water, pulling one leg up so he could kiss a watery path upward to her thigh. She squirmed, her hands windmilling in the water to keep her balance. He released that leg, waited for her to put her weight on it, and repeated the process with the second leg.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” she asked when he surfaced again. He bent to take one plump breast, bobbing on the water and clearly awaiting his attention, into his mouth. Her flesh was cooled by the water, the contrast between it and the heat of his mouth making them both moan. “Do the other one. Do the other one!” she demanded. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, urging him on.

He obliged, swirling his tongue across her nipple, savoring the feel and taste of her, but needing more. Oh, so much more.

“More!” he said, unable to find any of that suavity that he was so known for. His brain had stopped all unnecessary processes, such as language and thoughts of anything but Gwen, focusing the full of its power on one thing: his need for her.

“Hell, yes, more!” she agreed, and slapped her hands on his arms. “Now!”

He grinned and dove again, picking up the serpentine line of kissing at her knees and heading straight for her hidden secrets. He couldn’t hear her moans as he probed and touched and swirled his tongue around in a manner that he hoped would please, but he judged by the way she clutched his hair and pulled him closer to her that she was, in fact, enjoying his attentions. He knew he was, although when the dark spots began to form in front of his eyes, he reluctantly admitted that there were limits to what even he could do.

“Nnrng!” Gwen said when his head popped out of the water. Her eyes were glazed, her hands urgent on his chest. “No stop!”

“Be patient, my demanding one,” he said as he gasped for air, amused that her brain, too, had ceased its ability to form actual words. “I shall take you to the finish line, have no doubt of that.”

“Yes, yes!” she yelled, pulling at his hair. “Finish!”

Filling each hand with one rounded globe of her ass, he pulled her hard against him, lifted her up so that her legs were around his hips, and said, “You must help me, dulcea mea.”

“Are you insane?” she snarled, pounding at his shoulders. “I can’t even think, let alone do anything but teeter on the precipice of the most amazing orgasm ever. If you don’t finish it, I will die, and then you’ll have to explain to my two moms why I died unfulfilled. And let me tell you, they will have a thing or two to say about that.”

He grinned again, kissed her because he just couldn’t believe how wonderful she was, and then, for both their sakes, clarified the situation with, “You have to guide me into you, Gwen. All I’m finding is your hip socket. Unless this . . .” He concentrated for a moment. She stiffened, her eyes startled. “No, that doesn’t seem to be right, either.”

“Most definitely is not right,” she said, and reached between them to position him. “Go!”

He went. Straight to heaven, is what he would have told her had it been in his power to speak at that moment of absolute bliss. Her muscles rippled around him, gripping him in a way that he had never imagined possible, and frankly didn’t know if he would survive. Slowly he sank into her, her breath caught in his mouth as he kissed her, the sensation of both just about spelling an end to him.

But when she started to move on him, her legs flexing as she found a rhythm that left him feeling as if he was made up of flowing lava in the form of a man, he knew that he hadn’t long to last.

“Gwen. My darling. My sweet. My heaven and earth and stars. If you move like that again—no, the other way—yes, that—I’m afraid that I will be doomed to disappoint you.”

Her heels dug into his buttocks as she stiffened against him, her nails scratching his back at the same time she yelled into his mouth.

That was all he needed. Her climax caused her muscles to grip him with the force of a velvety hot vise, sending him well past what any mere mortal could endure.

“It is a good thing,” he panted some minutes later, when they lay damp and exhausted on the bedrolls, a light linen sheet covering them from view of passing sheep, deer, and the odd occasional rabbit, “that I’m not mortal, because that would definitely have stopped my heart.”

Gwen lay draped over him, her limbs tangled with his, her wet hair splayed across his neck and chest.

He’d never felt more wonderful in all his sixty-four years.

She lifted her head. “You can talk.”

“Yes. So can you.” He trailed his fingers down the silky softness of her ass. “I love your derriere. Have I mentioned that?”

“Actual words. You can say them.” She squinted at him. “You’re thinking thoughts, aren’t you? Don’t deny it; I can see you are. I can’t do anything more than quiver with little aftershocks of sheer, unadulterated rapture from what was, hands down, the best sex that has ever been performed in the whole history of mankind, and possibly the universe, and you’re there indulging in brain processes, and talking, and touching my butt just like nothing happened.”

“Oh, something happened, my sweet one,” he said with a leer.

“Gah!” she said, and slapped his chest before rolling off him, pillowing her head on his arm in a manner that he knew would leave the latter numb in a few minutes. He didn’t care. A few pins and needles would be worth it.