big.”
He pulled away to look very seriously at her. “Breasts can never be too big, Rache.”
He could see she doubted his words. “See how they fill my hands?”
She inhaled sharply, weakening his control. He should stop. “I want to feel them against my bare chest,” he said, surprised he revealed his yearning.
Without hesitation, she unhooked his suspenders, then his shirt, and he could no more stop her than he could a railroad train under full steam. Not only did he not stop her, he helped her. “I want to feel all of you against all of me,” he said.
After he removed his trousers, she came back into his arms. Oh God. He had waited for this moment his whole life. “Are you close enough, love?” he asked. “Are you all right?” He kissed her forehead.
Skin against skin, they lay, her breasts crushed gloriously against him, her foot sliding along his leg.
“They are sloppy and ugly.”
He smiled. “Rachel Zook, you have the most delightful breasts I have ever seen.”
She pulled back. “How many have you seen?”
“A few.”
She hid her face in his neck. “I would wish you only ever saw mine. Then if you said they were beautiful, I would know you believed it.”
He kissed his way to her nipples. When he could wait no longer, he closed his mouth around one. In adoring the beauty of her, he would reveal it to her.
Slowly, ever so slowly, she loosened her hold, allowing him to kiss, to taste. When he made to draw away, she held him there and moved her legs to accommodate the length of him.
Again, he gloried in her trust. A fragile blown-glass treasure was his Mudpie. In the wrong hands, she had come close to shattering. But he would love her into wholeness again.
“I didn’t know,” she said breathlessly. “Your touch, it’s doing strange things inside me, Jacob.”
“Inside me too, Mudpie.”
“I want to be closer, please.”
Jacob brought one of her legs over his so they fit together nearly as well as two pieces of a puzzle.
Rachel realized, in a distant part of her mind, that she was in a place far away from her anguish, and that only Jacob could bring her there.
When the evidence of his desire came within intimate contact of her own, she rejoiced. And because this was Jacob, her Jacob, Rachel dared explore the texture of him.
Never had she known such intimacy or contentment, never the soul-deep warmth of being cherished. “Thank you for wanting me, Jacob,” she said sliding her hand tentatively along his length, awed and not a little curious. “You do want me, don’t you?”
He shuddered, then stilled her hand. “You’ve pretty much had this effect on me since I was thirteen.”
“I have?”
“You can’t doubt my words, Rache. There is proof at hand.”
That brought a giggle, a chuckle, and a long, slow kiss.
He showed her how to pleasure him, and her ability to do so excited her. And he pleasured her, bringing her to heights she had never known existed. Such places along her skin never tingled so. Such ribbons of pleasure never unfurled within her.
Her body was no longer ugly, but beautiful. Nothing mattered more than Jacob’s desire for her. Hers for him.
“ Ich liebe dich ,” he whispered close to her ear as he loved her neck with kisses.
Rachel sobbed, joy catching her unaware. “I love you, too. God help me, I never stopped.”
Passion, pleasure … love … deepened their need, gave it an urgency shocking in its force. Yet no fear nipped at her, no panic nor urge to run overcame her. Rachel floated within a cocoon of pleasure. Protected. Cherished. No place would she choose to be, but here, now. With Jacob.
When in the midst of their pleasure-laden journey, Jacob slipped inside of her, contentment swelled and happiness engulfed her. She was complete.
And they became one. The notion filled her, carried her toward skies blue and sunny, where good reigned.
And happiness.
And joy.
Heaven welcomed them with open arms.
And they knew peace.
* * *