He waited for her arms to encircle him, to free the breasts she protected so virginally. Finally, he whispered, "Put your arms around me, Anna." Her arms found their way, her hands played over his muscled back. Slowly, Karl drew a pattern on her flesh that brought his palm to the gentle swelling of her breasts. Her hands fell still. All of her lay expectant, waiting, waiting, breath falling warmly on his cheek, until his caress found its way like the fall of a feather.
Lightly, he rubbed the backs of his fingers upon the cockled tip. The universe held its breath with Karl and Anna as he slowly eased his touch in search of buttons, finding them, slipping them free, one by one, in slow, slow motions. Don't move, Anna, he thought. Let me feel your warmth. She lay unresisting, receptive to his touch. He smoothed his hand within the loosened garment, riding his palm from the shallows of her ribs upward to rest on her breastbone. He stroked her jaw with his thumb, caressed her neck, encircled it fleetingly, then again rested the heel of his hand just above and between her breasts, savoring the delight of making them both wait, want.
She closed her eyes, sighing as his touch fell upon her bare breast, cupping it, contouring it, making fire build in its nerve endings. In a wonder of discovery his hand roved her skin, so different from his own. Her breasts were soft, like the petals of the wild rose, unbelievably soft. Yet, here, puckered tightly with a contraction so unexpectedly powerful. "Anna," he breathed, his lips skimming hers, "you are so warm, so soft here," he gently squeezed the resilient flesh; "so hard here," he took the firmly aroused nipple to stroke it gently, roll it between his fingers rapturously. "How I have wondered."
She lay with her mouth a mere inch away from is, feeling his words on her skin, finding no answer but to lie beneath his touch while he learned the beautiful mystery of man and woman. As if she were his altar, he came to adore in profound awe the goodness of this offering.
Within Anna grew the incredulous knowledge of this man's innate respect for the act upon which they embarked, so that when he soothed her gown from her shoulders there was goodness flowing already between them, even before their bodies joined. He touched her hair, her shoulder, took her hand from behind him and kissed its palm, then pressed her back into the pillows.
Then he leaned to do what he'd thought of for so long; he kissed her breasts, stunning both Anna and himself with sensations that gushed through them. Warm, wet, hungry tongue swooped, swept, stroked. Ardent, eager lips encircled, engulfed, enflamed.
To Anna came an incredible thirst at the tugging of his kiss upon her breast. She knew physical thirst that brought unexpected cravings for cool, flowing water. She knew emotional thirst that brought visions of warm, quivering flesh. It built in a marvelous anguish until her head pressed back of its own accord. Her ribs rose, her back arched, her hands found his hair. He groaned softly as her fingers threaded the strands. Her hands tugged impatiently, then fell to his cheeks to hold their hollows, the better to feel his open-mouthed possession of her flesh. His searching, suckling mouth created within Anna such a confusion of warring sensations. She was at once slaked but thirsty, filled but hungering, sapped but fortified, languid but vital, relaxed but tensile.
His face traveled her body while Anna luxuriated in the leisurely pace he'd set. Beneath his lips he felt her stretching like a cat as he touched the hollow between her ribs. His hands stroked the curve of her waist. As if this triggered some magic, she raised her hands above her head, arching further upward in a languor he had not expected. Her hips were hilled and warm, their hollows small and soft beneath his palm. Slowly, fluidly he stretched himself beside her, finding her lips with his again while the circle of her arms came down to press his shoulders to her.
"Karl," she murmured, lying in wait until at last he found the mystery of her in treasured folds of warmth.
"Oh, Anna," his voice came raspy, his mouth buried between the pillow and her ear. "I cannot believe you." Hosannas filled his mind at the newness of this woman and her reaction to his touches. He rubbed his ear across her mouth, his touch taken at last within her.
"It's so different," she whispered. "I was so afraid."
"Anna, never will I hurt you." Glorying in her acceptance, he explored her until his body's forces could be denied no longer. He covered her with the length of his own body, thinking, Anna, Anna, that you should be such as you are! You do not reject me or make me feel callow as I feared. His hips thrust against her of their own accord, bringing a rustle to the room. Fiercely, he cupped the back of her neck, pulling her ear roughly against his throaty whisper. "Anna, let's go outside ... please." He bent his ear to her lips again.
"Yes," she whispered huskily.
And he was out of the bed, finding his discarded clothing in the dark while she thrust her trembling arms back into sleeves, found buttons, felt Karl's hand reaching to pull her from the bed. At their sounds of departure James' sleepy voice came from the floor.
"Karl, is that you?"
"Ya. Anna and me. We want to talk a while so we are going for a walk. Go to sleep, James."
They stole barefoot onto the night grass, latching the door behind them, limbs quivering with each step. The liquid moon fell upon their heads like rich cream while they walked, untouching, in disciplined slowness, toward the barn. Anna felt a tugging at her arm and looked up to find Karl's face and hair alight with moonglow, the seam of his lips etched in moonshadow. He stopped and swept an arm around her shoulders, mantling them with the blanket he had hastily pulled from where it hung in the corner as they fled to privacy. Her arms took his broad neck in a tight, clinging loop while he picked her up off the ground, spreading his feet and leaning back for balance. His hastily donned shirt hung unbuttoned between them. She plunged both hands into the back of it, rubbing his high-muscled shoulders while he kissed her throat which arched into the night sky.
"I would have this first time last all night if I
could," he groaned. The curves and planes of her body were pressed beguilingly against his as he held her aloft. "Just your touch, Anna ..." She kissed away his words, her hands playing over his back until at last he eased her down. Her toes touched dew, then she and Karl were running toward the barn with hands joined and the blanket flaring behind them.
He tugged her hand in the hay-scented dark, showing her the way. She heard the flip of the blanket, the vague rushing sound of it settling upon the hay. She reached for the buttons of her nightgown, but his hands came seeking, stopping hers, taking her wrists in a commandeering grasp. Relentlessly, he forced them down to her sides, then his fingers plied her buttons.
"This is my job," he said. "I want every joy of this night to be mine." He brushed the gown from her shoulders and found her wrists again and brought them to his stomach. "Right from the beginning, Anna, the way it ought to be."
Wordlessly, she did his bidding, with trembling hands, until they stood in naked splendor before each other. Blood beat in their ears. They savored that moment of hesitation before Karl reached out with strong hands to grip her shoulders and take her against him, drawing her down to the hay, the blanket.
He was lithe and engulfing and impassioned, rolling with her, kissing her with an ardor she had not imagined, everywhere, everywhere. Her arms clung. Her lips sought. Her body arched. Above her he braced, poised.
"Anna, I do not want to hurt you, little one."
Never had she expected such sensitive and pained concern. "It's all right, Karl," she said, gone past thoughts of waiting longer for the final blending of their bodies.
He hovered, quivering, then placed himself lightly in her. He felt her hands seek his hips and wielded her in shallow movements. Again he waited for her sign, slowly, lingeringly. She moved, flowing into his being, gently, thrusting up. Together they found rhythm. Their breaths came in labored draughts through the dusky night, uttering each other's names. Their motion became ballet, graceful, flowing, smooth, choreographed by the master hand of nature into a synchronization unlike either had imagined. Karl heard the sound of his own moans of pleasure as heat and height built. An unintelligible cry broke from Anna and he stopped moving, agonized.
"No ... don't ..." she cried out.
He moved back, stricken. She pulled at him.
"What is it, Anna?"
"It's good ... please ..."
She told him, too, with some obscure language of centuries to flex now, until time and tone and tempo reached deeply to bring Anna reason for being. And at her grip and flow, Karl, too, shuddered, collapsed, lowering his head to cradle in exhaustion at her neck.
She held him there, fiercely stroking the damp hair at the back of his neck, wondering if it would be all right to cry, fearing it was not a choice left up to her. For her chest was filled to bursting. A stinging bit in the depths of her nose. The warning glands in her jaws filled. Then, horrified, she burst forth with a shattering, single sob that filled the barn with sound and Karl with alarm.
"Anna!" he cried, fearful at something he'd done to hurt her after all. He fell to his side, taking her with him. But she forced her face sharply aside and covered her eyes with a forearm.
"What is it, Anna? What have I done?" Regretfully, he withdrew from her, stroked the arm she held over her eyes.
"Nothing," she choked.
"Why do you cry, then?"
"I don't know ... I don't know." Truly she didn't.
"You don't know?" he asked.
Silently, she shook her head, unable to delve this mystery herself.
"Did I hurt you?"
"No ... no."
His big hand stroked her hair helplessly. "I thought it was ..." He begged, "Tell me, Anna."
"Something good happened, Karl, something I didn't expect."
"And this makes you cry?"
"I'm silly."
"No, no, Anna ... do not say that."
"I thought you would be displeased with me, that's all."
"No, Anna, no. Why would you think such a thing?"
But she couldn't tell him the real reason.
Unbelievably, he did not seem to know.
"It is I who wondered if I did right. All day long I thought of this and worried. And now it has happened and we knew, Anna. We knew. Is it not incredible how it was? How we knew?"
"Yes, it's incredible."
"Your body, Anna, how you are made, how we fit." He touched her reverently. "Such a miracle."
"Oh, Karl, how did you get this way?" She clutched him against her almost desperately, as if he'd threatened to leave.
"How am I?"
"You're ... I don't know ... you're filled with such wonder at everything. Things mean so much to you. It's like you're always looking for the good in things."
"Do you not look for the good? Did you not look for this to be good then?"
"Not like you, I don't think, Karl. My life hasn't had much good in it until I met you. You are the first truly good thing that has happened to me. All except for James."
"That makes me happy. You have made me happy, Anna. Everything is so much better since you are here. To think that I will never have to be lonely again." Then he sighed, a pleasured, full sigh, and snuggled his face into her neck again.
They lay silently for some time, basking. She touched the arm he'd flung tiredly across her and rubbed its hair up, smoothed it down. He idled his foot upon the back of her calf, using it to hold her near. They began talking lazily into each other's chins, necks, chests, anywhere their mouths happened to be.
"I thought I would die before this day was over."
"You too, Anna?"
"Mm-hmmm. Me, too. You too?"
"I worried about the craziest things."
"I didn't know if I should look at you or ignore you."
"I worried about those cornhusks all day."
"You did?"
He nodded his head. She laughed softly.
"Didn't you?"
Again she laughed softly.
"I did not know what I would do if you would not come out here."
"I was so relieved when you asked me."
"I will hurry to finish the log cabin, then James will have a loft to himself."
They fell silent, thinking of it.
Soon she asked, "Karl, guess what?"
"What."
"You lied tonight."
"I?"
"You told James we were going for a walk. You said `nothing makes a liar out of Karl Lindstrom` but something did."
"And something might again," he warned.
And something certainly did.
Chapter Twelve
James could tell the minute he opened his eyes that things were okay again between Karl and Anna. For one thing, today was the first day Karl hadn't risen before Anna and gone outside to keep out of the way while she got up and washed and dressed. When James opened his eyes and stretched to look over his shoulder, he found both his sister and brother-in-law tucked up in bed yet. They were whispering, and James thought he heard giggles. A pleasant sense of security enfolded the boy. It was always terrible when things were strained between Karl and Anna. But today, James knew, would be one of those good, good days he liked best.