Newland’s heart fluttered in joy. She had just given him all the reassurance that he would ever need.

“I remember the last time that I held you in my arms as though it were only minutes ago,” he said.

Her face flushed pink. “Yes, I, too.”

“How you made me feel as though life were truly complete.”

She sipped her tea, and when she went to replace the cup on the saucer, the cup tipped, spilling the liquid over the sides and spotting her dress. She gasped in embarrassment and rose from her seat.

He stood quickly and with his napkin dabbed at the front of her dress. She drew away from his touch and walked over to the window.

She folded her hands in front of her. He followed, but did not move too near. The snow outside the window seemed to fall around her, framing her with heavenly grace. The urge to hold her in his arms was stronger than ever. She was so close and yet she had placed an invisible, seemingly unbreakable barrier between them. His emotions overcame reason and he moved even closer to her. He did not dare touch her again. She did not turn, but continued to watch the falling snowflakes. He mustered his courage and placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder. To his delight, she covered his hand with hers. Her touch thrilled him, and so powerful was his love for her that as a result of this simple touch of a hand, his manhood began to rise.

He tried to take a step back, but she clung to him. “Stay close to me,” she whispered, tenderly. He pressed his body more firmly against her back. She swayed slightly, and a moment later, she reached down behind her and found his other hand. She slid hers inside his and then raised his hand to her bosom and laid it upon her breast. Then she covered his hand with hers, pressed him to her, and sighed deeply.

Together they stood, watching the snowfall enfold them in this timeless moment. She turned her head to look back at him, her long neck stretching swanlike. When their eyes met, Newland was overcome, and he leaned forward and kissed her. She turned around to face him and he took her into his arms, and the gentle kiss became passionate.

“I need you,” she said when the kiss broke.

He started to pull back, fighting his urges, demurring to her original wishes.

“Take me,” she said, advancing on him, not letting him separate from her.

“But—”

“None of that matters. Not now.” She grasped his hand and led him to the bed.

Overcome with love and lust, he lifted her and placed her upon the bed. He had to taste her, to savor her essence. He reached for her skirts and raised them in one motion. As always, she was without undergarments. He opened her legs so that her secret treasure was before him. He slid his hands up her legs, across her loins, and then grasped her thighs. He lifted her cheeks and lowered himself to her flower, immersing himself in her intoxicating scent, and began sliding his tongue through her rich cream. He swirled his tongue through her petals to her pearl and danced back to her sheath, probing with his tongue, and then circling the opening. Lost in her delicacies, he might have stayed right there forever if his manhood had not begun to throb insistently.