“Oh, Ellen,” he said. “How I have dreamed of you.”

“And I you, my dearest man.”

“Every morning, I dream of making love to you. Every noon, of tasting you. Every evening, of your head resting upon my shoulder.” He exhaled deeply, lost in his images. “Why must we be apart?”

She pressed her face between his shoulder blades and moved her arms up his chest. Newland had never known a more tantalizing woman than Ellen Olenska. Her allure was hypnotic and irresistible. She was exactly the type of woman that would drive him to accomplish impossible feats—all she had to do was whisper his name and he would get to her. He would swim oceans, walk through fires, or scale the highest mountains.

“Dear Newland, don’t say these things, my darling man.”

He turned, took her into his arms, and stared deeply into her eyes. “Why not? We could run, just disappear. We needn’t look back. Don’t you see? We could live a life of complete happiness.”

“And where shall we go that we will not be discovered?”

“Across the world. To China, India. As far away from here as possible.”

“You are so romantic, Newland. So very romantic. How I want to love you.”

“But you do love me, and I you.”

She frowned and lowered her eyes in regret.

“Tell me that you love me,” he said.

“You will never be far. You will always be inside of me.”

Newland felt the tears welling—unmanly certainly, but genuine. What could he say to change their circumstances? Why must life be so cruel that those in love cannot be together?

“Come,” she said. She grasped his hand and led him to the swing. They sat down. “I want you to kiss me.” She lowered herself into his arms.

Newland’s heart accelerated anew. Her words and the sound of her voice intoxicated him. But to hold her in his arms was heaven-sent bliss. They stared into each other’s eyes, their silent communication more meaningful than any speech could be.

Newland held her near, and as he closed his eyes, he lowered his lips to hers. The touch was electric, and he felt as if his spirit had lifted from his body. And as soon as their tongues met, they began to swirl as if engaged in a celestial dance of the gods. He wanted her, all of her. Now. His heart beat out of control, his breath hastened, and his manhood throbbed with intense yearning.

When they broke the kiss, there was no denying that they both had the same desires. She rose from his arms, stood, and unfastened his trousers. “Let me,” she said, and quickly found his rampant member, awaiting her touch. She kissed his lips lightly as she stroked the length of his staff, and then stopped to circle the corona with her fingertips.

Lost in lust, Newland kept his eyes closed.

She dropped to her knees, grasped his thighs, and lowered her head to the crown of his staff and began licking it. She circled the top, and then urgently began to explore. Newland groaned from deep within his chest, grinding his hips to her touch. She grasped the staff with a hand and took his full crown inside her mouth, swirled her tongue, and began to suck.