LifeStyles

Sixty-Seven

Although the cogs of my brain are turning, the shutters of my eyes are not yet ready to acknowledge the world. I know it is morning though from the sweet sound of summer birds tweeting their unique calls and a sense of illuminated brightness on the other side of my lids.

There is something satisfyingly sensual about sleeping under canvas surrounded by nature. I am naked under the blankets; we both are. Harry always sleeps bare at night but for me it is something I have not experienced much before. His warmth beside me oozes into me. His skin is soft in his care for it but hard in carved definition for his dedication and respect of his body.

Sleep has untwisted our limbs but he stirs and rolls onto his side connecting us together once more. A heavy arm flops protectively over me, a smattering of morning stubble tickles on my shoulder and a long hairy leg hooks over both of mine. Once my gorgeous specimen of a man has claimed me, he hums a sleepy contented sigh into my ear before drifting back under the spell of slumber.

I savour this moment of calm to reflect on last night. Wow. When I said I was naked it was a little lie. The elegant piece of jewellery adorns my wrist where the final space was filled with a 'Love' charm.  The word etched upon the metal in Harry's handwriting of which the 'o' is a heart. As he slid it into place on the bracelet, he confessed he had never been in love with anyone before. He thought he had but he said he knew he was mistaken. He is in love with me. Me!

Standing before me and spilling romantic words from his heart, he swiped my breath clean away. Despite a few attempts, I was incapable of stringing any comprehensible words together. Seeing my struggle, he gently put his finger to my lips and shook his head, uttering in the quietest gasp, "You don't have to say it back.  I feel it.  Just know I love you; truly love you."

That was enough to wobble my bottom lip and crack my emotions open. I reached for him and he enclosed us together as one. He kissed my cheeks then, his lips stained with my happy tears, nuzzled into my neck. Gentle hands embraced around my back and pulled me tighter into him. He held me carefully like a package he did not wish to drop.

At that precise moment, my whole being ached for him but although the night was mine, he was in control of it. He pulled away from me for one minute and as a record dropped onto the turntable and the arm swung across lowering to crackle against the vinyl, Elvis Presley's, 'Can't Help Falling In Love' played out.

Harry's arms held me once more and my ear against his chest found his loving beat. His cheek rested on my hair and the lyrics rolled mellifluously from his lips, sensually stirring my insides. Long after the needle had departed the grooves we swayed back and forth. My mind was spinning only with him. His hand caressed smoothly up and down against the softness of the silk dress.

"I love the sexy of this dress on you," he cooed.

"Hmmm, Olive or Mum has excellent taste. I love it very much." I mumbled and flicked my eyelashes up to meet his with a lazy smile.

He tilted his head down, doubling his chins and pulled his lips into his mouth in contemplation. "Olive or your Mum?"

I nodded in agreement.  "They both know me so well. It feels incredible." I praised docilely, still very much relishing the sway of our bodies.

He paused in contemplation then went to speak but retracted then gushed anyway. "I chose the outfit for you, Beautiful."

That was all it took. I pushed away from him and gripped his jacket lapels. "I want you, now," spilled gutturally raw from my throat.