His Temporary Mistress(64)

By: Cathy Williams


‘Fast,’ was Damien’s response.

They were married six weeks later at the local church close to his mother’s house. Dominic was the best man and he performed his duties with a gravity that was incredibly touching and, later, at the small reception which they held at the house, he was cheered on to speak and, bright red, raised his glass to the best brother a man could have.

Phillipa didn’t stop teasing her sister that she had managed to beat her down the aisle. ‘And you’ll probably be preggers by the time I make my vows in my white sarong and crop top!’ she wailed, which, as it turned out, was exactly what happened.

On a hot day, watching her sister and her assortment of new-found friends, with the sound of the surf competing with the little band drumming out the wedding march as Phillipa took her vows, Violet leaned against her husband, hand on the gentle swell of her stomach, and wondered whether it was possible to be happier.

From those inauspicious beginnings, the relationship she never thought would happen had blossomed into something she could not live without, and the man who had fought against becoming involved had turned into the man who frequently told her how much he loved her and how much he hated leaving her side.

‘I’ve come to terms with the value of delegation,’ he had confided without a shade of regret, ‘and when my son is born...’

‘Or daughter...’

‘Or daughter...I intend to explore its value even more...’

Thinking about what else they explored now brought a hectic flush to her cheeks and, as if reading her mind, Damien leant to whisper in her ear, ‘Okay. The ceremony is over. What do you say to us staying for the meal and then heading back to the hotel? I think I need to remind myself of what your nipples taste like... I’m getting withdrawal symptoms...’

Violet blushed and laughed and looked up at him. ‘That would be rude...’ she said sternly, but already her mind was leaping ahead to the way her developing body fascinated him, the way he lavished attention on her breasts, even more abundant now, and suckled on her nipples, which were bigger and darker and a source of never-ending attention the minute her clothes were off. She felt the heat pool between her legs when she thought of them lying in the air-conditioned splendour of their massive curtained bed, his head on her stomach while he stroked her thighs with his hand, then tickled the swollen, engorged bud of her clitoris, which she would swear was even more sensitive now.

‘But I’m sure Phillipa will understand...’ she conceded as he planted a fleeting kiss on the corner of her mouth. ‘After all, we pregnant ladies can’t stay in the heat for too long...’