Eclipse. Lynne Pemberton
to her.
‘I suppose it’s because you’re so different, Royole. You’re from another world, so far from mine.’ With a shaking hand she stroked his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw. ‘Yet, strangely enough, I feel as if I’ve known you all my life.’
‘You’re right Serena, we are different, and not only in skin colour. But surely mutual attraction transcends all that stuff. Forget about who we are and where we come from, just enjoy being together. Don’t worry about the consequences.’
He lifted a strand of her hair and looped it around her ear.
‘You make it sound so simple,’ she sighed.
‘But that’s just what it is. What’s more natural than a man and a woman who want to make love to each other.’
He then knelt in front of her, and she watched him intently, her eyes never leaving his face, as he untied the thin straps of her canvas sandals. They slipped easily off her feet. He raised her left foot and tenderly licked each of her toes in turn, before gently nibbling her heel.
‘That tickles,’ she squealed.
Stopping at once, he stood up and gently placed both of her feet back on the bed, then lifted the hem of her cotton shift dress. It came off in one fluid movement. She was naked underneath.
His eyes slowly travelled the full length and breadth of her body.
He adored the way her hair, a shower of gold, tumbled off her shoulders and fanned across her small, firm breasts tipped with pale pink nipples. He could feel his own response as he focused on her golden triangle of pubic hair.
‘I’m almost afraid to touch,’ he murmured, staring at her in undisguised awe.
Observing his face, Serena was struck by his obvious sensitivity; so unlike the hunger she had seen on the faces of other men.
He stroked the inside of her thigh, delighting in the warm, soft feel of her skin; finally allowing his fingertips to continue their highly sensuous journey across her flat stomach, between her breasts and on to the nape of her neck. He pulled her head forward, then traced her mouth with his warm tongue.
She bit his lower lip. ‘I want to eat you.’
‘You can, with pleasure,’ he said, and stood up.
Loosening the buttons at the front of his shirt, he pushed it over his shoulders and let it float down his back and on to the floor.
‘Stay as you are please, Royole, don’t move.’ Her tone was urgent.
He did as she asked.
Silently she stared at him for several minutes, before whispering, ‘You’ve got the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen.’
Right then she knew, with absolute certainty, that she would never forget that moment for the rest of her life. Having acknowledged this, she stroked his hairless chest and taut stomach; her fingers at last teasing the coarse hair curling across his groin.
Royole basked silently in his pleasure, until a loud sigh escaped his lips as she took his erect penis in both her hands. She marvelled at the size. It was very hot, and the skin was as smooth as velvet. He continued to stand very still in front of her, for what seemed an age.
‘You can move now. Come on Royole, what are you waiting for …’
He touched her hair and a slow smile entered her face, it was both inviting and teasing. He joined her on the bed, biting the side of her ear.
‘Tell me what you like, Serena.’
She felt a blush infusing her face. Nicholas had never asked her, nor had the few boyfriends she’d known before him. How could she tell Royole, a virtual stranger, her sexual preferences?
‘Tell me Serena,’ he urged, ‘I can’t give you pleasure unless I know.’
Bending her head, she whispered into his ear.
‘I would love to,’ he said in a hoarse voice.
Her blush deepened as he lowered his head and gently opened her legs.
They made love until the sun, a perfect dark orange orb, had descended from the blue mountains into a darkening horizon and the lengthening shadows of dusk slowly turned to evening.
The hour before nightfall found them sitting on the terrace, naked and wrapped in each other’s arms; they sipped Royole’s specially made planters’ punch, and watched the tangerine glow of sunset finally fade.
Eventually, Serena broke the silence. ‘I really wish I could paint. I would so love to capture this particular sunset; or, better still, your beautiful face.’
She sighed, pecked the end of his nose, and continued. ‘I can’t remember ever feeling quite this content.’
A cool breeze had begun to drift across the terrace.
‘Are you cold?’ he asked, pulling her closer.
‘No, I feel better than I’ve felt in my entire life.’ Lifting his free hand, she kissed the inside of his palm; it tasted of lime. ‘I don’t ever want to go back to London, or for that matter back to England. I want to stay here with you.’
When he didn’t reply, she continued unperturbed, in a calm, clear voice. ‘I mean it. I know now that I love you. Given the chance, I’d be with you for as long as you wanted me.’
The sea was calm. There was no sound save the ever-present chirping of the tree frogs and crickets, mingled with a faint rustling from the thick leaves of the Mussaenda trees overhanging the terrace.
After a few moments Royole spoke. ‘I would love you to stay here with me, Serena, but I think we both realize it’s not possible. Like you said earlier, we’re different, from different worlds; and just as I would never fit into yours, nor would you fit into mine.’
‘I’m not asking you to fit into mine, Royole. But why can’t I fit into yours? It’s happened before; we’re not unique.’
She looked like a trusting child, and he felt his chest tighten.
‘I’ve got plans and dreams. The Caribbean is changing; I want to be part of that change. There’s so much to achieve, such a lot I want to do. This is the dawn of a new era in tourism, and there are fortunes to be made. I intend to make mine, but at the moment I’ve got very little money, and nothing to offer you.’ He paused. Then, eyes darkening, he added. ‘Not even time.’
Serena blinked back tears, she looked up as a wispy cloud flitted across the full moon. Half of her was pleased that at least he hadn’t mentioned Caron, but as the soft white lunar light touched her face, in a choked voice she said, ‘Money isn’t everything, Royole.’
He sighed deeply. ‘I’m aware of that but it’s easy for you to say that when you’ve never been without it. You’re very young, Serena, and if you don’t mind me saying, just a little naïve.’
She stemmed any further conversation by covering his mouth with short, wet kisses, murmuring between them. ‘Shut up Royole, and make love to me again. Time is running out.’
The following morning Serena awoke to the soft pattering of rain on the wooden roof. She made no sound as she slid out of bed. Not finding her dress close to hand, she quickly slipped on Royole’s cotton shirt, tiptoed out of the room, and left the house barefoot.
Her jeep was parked under a huge frangipani tree. Its abundant leaves, heavy with rain, were drooping over the bonnet. Starting the engine as quietly as she could, she moved off slowly down the drive, allowing herself one last glance at Coralita cottage. Now that it was shrouded in ominous, grey clouds, she couldn’t help thinking how desolate and sad it seemed.
Not looking where she was going, Serena drove off the track. She cursed the jeep as its wheels spun dangerously in the sodden earth, then ground to a halt. ‘Shit! That’s all I need.’
She could only