Manolo had wanted her slack and fleshy body, and she had never known, or seen, anything like it on a man before. She spoke out the words after all, alien as they were to be on her lips.
‘I want to be fucked…in a bed…until there is nothing left to give to each other. How I need that! I need to move on but never to forget. I have my own life to live and not have it spoken of by others.’
She could love again and grieve, to never forget the man who had been in her life for so long, the father of her children, and had been taken from her.
Gathering up all of her art materials, she called to Tessa and Milly, and pleasurably tired, her thighs sore and sticky from what had issued from them both, she walked wearily up to what she knew would by a silent, echoing house, not the place to be alone with your thoughts, or for too long.
She believed an answer to that had been passionately discovered in the shade of the trees in the orchard, in pursuing a reckless act that she hoped could be repeated, discreetly but with uncommon ardour, while she and Manolo were in this place.
She would make the most of a brief encounter, succumb to her holiday fever, behave in ways that had seen her breaking all the rules.
♥