Living London - By Kristin Vayden Page 0,66

I had only felt through his clothes were perfectly chiseled across his body. As he came nearer the scent of honey and cloves assaulted my senses and stirred my blood. When he took the final step that brought him close enough to touch, he leaned down and placed a possessive kiss to the curve of my neck.

"You are truly and finally mine." He whispered the words against my skin, and my body flesh prickled with awareness. Slowly he kissed the tender flesh below my ear as he made his way to my jaw. His lips met mine for a long, stilling moment before he pulled back and waited for me to look at him. "Forever, Jocelyn. Forever."

With the efficiency of a lady's maid, Morgan undressed me, each article of clothing was removed with intent purpose, heightening my already fiery senses. As if reading my thoughts, he murmured against the soft skin of my bare shoulder. "It's only fair that you experience the sweet temptation you've made me endure ever since I carried you in from your fall in the park."

His whisper gave me goosebumps, and I couldn't think of a smart reply, only a hungry look directed at my all-too-patient husband. "Are you finished?" I whispered.

"With?" He kissed down the skin of my chest, lower and lower till I gasped, unable to remember my words. "What were you saying love?" he teased. My thoughts were scattered; all I knew and could think of was him and the delightful sensations he created with each nip, kiss and caress.

"I, um?? I stuttered, lost in the delectable sensations welling inside of me.

"Something about torture, I believe?" he offered, clearly enjoying the effect his caressing fingers and wicked hands were having on me.

"Yes, but I've quite forgotten," I replied, breathing heavily.

He picked me up and laid me across our bed. He rained moist kisses down my bared stomach and removed the last of my underclothes. Warm fingers traced up my leg and spread across my hips pressing into my flesh and cradling me closer. With abrupt motion he stood removed the last items of his clothing. When he returned to our bed, all that caressed my body was his skin.

"I believe you were going to ask if I was finished with my torture, love." He spoke against my lips before kissing them fiercely.

"Oh?" I responded, barely remembering what he had said.

"And your answer is no. I'm not nearly finished. This sublime agony is only the beginning."

And I discovered the sweet abandon of unconditional love.

Epilogue

Time had been kind to me. Each year that passed was more wonderful than the last. Through the raising of our four children, and now various grandchildren, Morgan and I grew deeper in love. Though now older and far wiser, I had a hard time believing I had actually done it, fallen through time. On various occasions I had tried to explain it to Morgan, yet he'd simply shake his head and say it didn't matter, all that did matter was I was here, with him. And he was right.

Part of me wondered how Nanna knew this would happen to me, and if it could happen again to someone else. Thoughts of that nature prevented me from sleeping one night, and so I padded to our large library to pick out a book. As I opened the doors, I half expected to find Elle asleep on one of the couches. I grinned to myself as I thought about my youngest granddaughter. Orphaned as a baby, she was dropped off at my youngest child's home in Sussex. I'm sure whoever left the infant with the note explaining the circumstances of her predicament expected the owners of the house to give her a life of servitude, but that wasn't the case. She was raised as a Westin. With an impetuous and reckless spirit that fought against her clumsy nature, she was constantly entertaining. When her mother suggested she spend some time in London when she turned twelve, I threw myself into her life with abandon.

The room was warm from a low fire, and I walked to the part of the library that held the oldest books. I picked up a treasured volume of the Psalms, flipping through the pages. It was an old copy, passed through generations of Westins. I had brought it to my London home shortly after I'd married Morgan almost forty years ago. I hadn't read it much, preferring my own Bible, but it had caught my eye for some