Julia lowered her eyes and blushed.
He smiled at her pink cheeks. “Am I making you shy?”
66
Gabriel’s Rapture
As if in answer, she took a step closer and pulled one of his hands so it cupped her breast.
He squeezed her softly. “Lie beside me and I’ll hold you.”
“I want you to love me.”
He divested himself of his boxer shorts and moved so she could
join him. Still cupping her breast, he began to kiss her, gently tangling his tongue with hers.
“I breathe you,” he whispered. “You’re everything. You’re the air.”
He teased her breasts with his fingers and planted gentle kisses down her neck, feathering up and down while she urged him on with
confident fingers.
Julia pushed him to recline on his back and straddled his hips.
He kissed between her breasts and took one of her nipples in his
mouth as his hand glided across the surface of her skin, moving
down to test her.
He released her breast in order to shake his head. “You aren’t
ready.”
“But I want you.”
“I want you too. But I want to set your body on fire, first.”
Julia’s desire was countered by Gabriel’s commitment to see that
each of their sexual encounters was pleasurable for both of them. He’d rather delay entrance and satisfaction until she was mad with want, rather than speed along before her body was sufficiently aroused.
When they finally came together, she looked down into open
blue eyes, their noses only a whisper apart. She moved atop him
painstakingly slowly, her eyes closing as she focused on the pleasurable sensation, before opening again. It was an intense connection.
Dark blue, heavy with emotion, gazed up unblinkingly into wide
chestnut. Every movement, every yearning was reflected between
the couple’s eyes.
“I love you.” He nuzzled her with his nose as she gradual y in-
creased her pace.
“I love you too — ” Her last word was interrupted by a low moan.
She reached down to catch his mouth as her movements sped.
Their tongues explored one another, groans and confessions inter-
rupting their connection. He touched her ribs and smoothed over
her waist. He slipped his hands under the curve of her bottom so he could lift her slightly, increasing his leverage.
67
Sylvain Reynard
She’d become addicted to this, to him. She adored the way he
looked at her in these intimate moments and the way in which the
world fell out of focus around them. She longed to feel him loving her, moving inside her, for he always made her feel beautiful. She would have said that any orgasm was an extra gift in addition to the way she felt when they were conjoined.
Making love, like music or breathing or the tempo of one’s heart-
beat, was based on a primordial rhythm. Gabriel had come to read
her body and to know the pace that matched it, like a glove that fits a lady’s hand. It was the sort of knowledge that was at once personal and primary, the kind of knowledge King James’s translators had been referring to when they wrote of Adam knowing his wife. The mysterious sacred knowledge that a lover had for his beloved — knowledge
that was perverted and maligned in less holier couplings. Knowledge that deserved a marriage in more than name.
Julia put her new knowledge to good use, delighting Gabriel with
her body again and again. And the way it felt when he was inside
her — warm and thrilling and tropical and perfect.
He was close, oh, so close. He searched her expression and saw
that her eyes were opened. Every motion of hers was reciprocated by him. Every motion brought both of them pleasure.
As they stared, a great moan erupted from her chest, and then
in a twinkling instant she was throwing her head back and calling
his name. It was a glorious thing for him to see and hear. Julianne finally called his name. Soon he was falling, groaning aloud as his body tensed and then released, the veins in his forehead and neck
straining and relaxing.
A joyful, tender coupling.
She didn’t want to let him go. She didn’t want to feel him leave
her body, and so she curled on top of him, watching his expression.
“Will it always be like this?”
Gabriel kissed her nose. “I don’t know. But if Richard and Grace
were any indication, it will only improve with time. I’ll see the reflection of all our shared joys and experiences in your eyes, and you will see the same in mine. Our history will make it better, deeper.”
She smiled at what he said and nodded; then her face grew sad.
“What is it?”
“I’m worried about what will happen next year.”
68
Gabriel’s Rapture
“Why?”
“What if I don’t get accepted into the PhD program at Toronto?”
He frowned. “I didn’t know that you applied.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
“I don’t want you to leave me either, but Julianne, the Toronto
program is not for you. You’d have no one to work with. I can’t
supervise you, and I doubt Katherine would take on a multi-year
commitment.”
Julia’s countenance fell.
Gabriel stroked her cheek with his finger. “I thought you wanted
to go to Harvard.”
“It’s so far away.”
“Only a short flight.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “We can see
each other on weekends and holidays. I applied for a sabbatical. It’s possible that I could come with you for the first year.”
“I’ll be there for six years. Or more.” She was close to tears now.
Gabriel saw them swimming and shimmering in her eyes and his
heart ached.
“We’ll make it work,” his voice grew rough. “Right now, we need
to enjoy the time we have together. Let me worry about the future.
I’ll make sure we aren’t separated.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he kissed her.
“The advantage to dating an older, more established man is that
he can give you room to focus on your own career. I’ll find a way to make my job fit around yours.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“It would be grossly unfair to expect you to give up your dream
of being a professor or to have you enroll in a program that is subpar.
I won’t let you sacrifice your dreams for me.” He grinned. “Now kiss me, and let me know that you trust me.”
“I trust you.”
Gabriel held her in his arms, sighing as she rested her head on
his chest.
69
Chapter 7
Christa Peterson sat in her parents’ house in north Toronto,
checking her email a few days before Christmas. She’d been
ignoring her inbox for a week. A relationship she had cultivated in addition to her pursuit of Professor Emerson had run its course, which meant that she wouldn’t be skiing in Whistler, British Columbia,
with her erstwhile lover over the Christmas holidays.
The banker in question had broken up with her via text message.
This was in poor taste, to be sure, but what would be in even poorer taste would be the follow-up email that was sure to be waiting for her, like a ticking bomb lurking in her inbox.
Having steeled herself with a glass or two of vintage Bollinger
champagne, which she had purchased as a gift for the schmuck who
was supposed to take her skiing, she checked her account. And there, sitting in her email, was a bomb. However, it was not the bomb
she’d expected.
To say that she was surprised by the content of Professor Pac-
ciani’s email would have been an understatement. In fact, she felt as if the rug had been pulled out from under her.
The only Canadian woman she had ever seen Professor Emer-
son show even restrained affection to was Professor Ann Singer. Yes, Christa had seen Emerson with various women at Lobby, but never
the same woman twice. He was friendly with other female professors and staff, but only professionally so, greeting them always and only with a firm handshake. Professor Singer, in contrast, was rewarded with a double kiss when he greeted her after his last public lecture.
Christa did not want to rekindle her relationship with Professor
Pacciani. He was sorely lacking in a particular physical respect, and she had no wish to return to the previous intimate encounters that had always left her frustrated and wanting. She had standards, after Gabriel’s Rapture
all, and any man who did not measure up to at least the size of her personal service accessory was not worth screwing.
(And she would have said you could quote her.)
Since she wanted more information about Professor Emerson’s
fiancée, she feigned interest in a spring rendezvous with Professor Pacciani and subtly asked for the fiancée’s name. Then she went
downstairs and finished off the rest of the champagne.
P
The day before Christmas found Julia sitting at the counter of
Kinfolks restaurant in Selinsgrove, having lunch with her father.
Gabriel was doing some last minute shopping with Richard while
Rachel and Aaron drove to the grocery store to pick up the turkey.
Scott was still in Philadelphia with his girlfriend.
Tom had faithfully delivered Julia’s gift from Paul. She’d placed
it on the floor at her feet, and now it was staring up at her, begging for attention like a puppy.
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