Chapter 8
Honeymoon
Cinnamon walked out onto the balcony of the mansion Rollin had taken her to.
The house stood on the side of a cliff and all of
The house was lovely. On the first floor was a beautiful tiled living area, formal dining room, kitchen area and a wing of servants’ quarters. You entered the foyer from a clay-tiled courtyard complete with circular drive and a fountain in the middle. The courtyard was lush with tropical vegetation, and everything seemed to be blooming. Flowers were everywhere. She had recognized a profusion of bougainvillea in various pinks and purples, brilliant red hibiscus, and orange tiger lilies. The living room and dining room were furnished with massive dark wood furniture, befitting the abode of a Spanish Don. A light supper was laid out for them on the patio by the pool, with a heart of palm salad, and a bottle of white wine. A smiling young man had taken their bags upstairs. A young woman had silently served grilled chicken and rice as they finished their salad, and later brought them coffee and fruit. As they finished their coffee, Rollin pointed out the rounded staircase that led to the second floor balcony and the master bedroom. He excused himself, saying he would meet her upstairs shortly and headed for the kitchen with instructions for breakfast and to dismiss the staff for the rest of the evening.
Cinnamon had climbed the stairs, expecting to see more massive Spanish furniture. Through the French doors on the landing, she was pleased to see a lighter, more modernly furnished bedroom. The walls were white stucco. The king sized bed was placed to provide a private view of the ocean, with more French doors that could be opened wide to welcome a breeze and sheer curtains hanging to provide a bit of privacy. The sheers were blowing softly in the evening breeze. Lush beige carpet cushioned her feet. On top of the carpet were several handwoven rugs in bright colors with Indian designs that brightened the room. To the right of the entrance there was a sitting area, with a small love seat and two chairs. The railing of the balcony was low enough that the view from this area would not be blocked.
To the left was the sleeping area. Instead of a headboard, there was an alcove in the thick wall behind the bed. A large clay vase held a fragrant bouquet of white calla lilies. There were two ornate iron lamps painted white suspended from the wall, each with amber glass globes that provided a soft yellow light to the room almost like candlelight.
On the other side of the room from the balcony, Cinnamon found two louvered doors. One led to a hallway with tiled floors. She could see the landing for the stairs in the interior of the house. The other door led to a large double walk-in closet and a well-appointed bathroom beyond. She found her bags carefully placed on a stand in the right-hand closet. She opened them and found the attire she had carefully chosen for her wedding night.
The garden tub in the bathroom sat in a corner with thick glass blocks forming a pattern in the wall and allowing both light and privacy. Baskets of hanging plants hung from the ceiling, and there was a planter dividing the tub from the double sink. Bougainvillea bloomed from both, giving the bathroom an accent of rich greens and purples. There was a small closet for the toilet, and a glass enclosed shower stall. Thick towels hung from the towel racks on the wall, handy to both shower and tub. Cinnamon was becoming sorry that they could only stay a few days. She could be quite comfortable here.
She changed and freshened up, checking herself in the full-length mirror in her closet. The white satin negligee fit her elegantly. It was floor length, but split up one side to high on her hip, allowing a generous amount of leg to show. She smiled, knowing that Rollin had always enjoyed looking at her legs. The spaghetti straps at her shoulder tended to slip provocatively. She liked the effect. She touched up her hair, making sure everything was in place, then returned to the bedroom to wait for her husband.
The sunset had drawn her back onto the balcony. The colors were spectacular. She thought with amazement how odd it felt to be here, on her honeymoon. She wondered, and hoped, that this was the right thing to do, and experienced a moment of serious doubt. All this spontaneity was not her way. It was so very Rollin, and it pointed out just how very different the two of them were.
Marriage was such a big step for them. For her, and she was fairly certain
for Rollin too, it was a commitment for life. She thought about her parents,
who had also firmly believed in the lifetime bond of marriage. Still, their
separation during the war had caused a rift that had never quite healed in all
the years they had together. She hadn’t quite realized it as she grew up, although
she and her father had never been very close. By the time he had come to
Because Rollin was a passionate and emotional man. It was one of the things that drew her to him, and it was also something that shocked and frightened her at times. Even before they had admitted their feelings for each other, Rollin had always found ways to touch her; sharing a cigarette, seating her at dinner, opening a door for her and placing a hand on her elbow. It had never, ever felt invasive. It was always very proper, but very personal. She had never experienced that kind of intimacy with anyone before and she knew it came to Rollin as naturally as he breathed. It wasn’t necessarily sexual. It was his way of connecting with everyone around him; acquiring their attention, making his point, showing his attention to them. Playing his spouse or lover on various occasions had been a sensual experience, and his physical attention had always stepped up as he played the part. And beyond the touching, one look from him with those gorgeous eyes of his was worth ten passionate kisses from anyone else she had ever known.
A part of her feared this ultimate act of intimacy with Rollin. She was too different and so afraid of being consumed by him, his passion, his lifestyle. However, deep in her heart, she felt that he understood her as no one else ever had, and he respected her, differences and all, and cherished her just as she was. He could have had her in that haystack, or any number of times since then. His level of commitment to her dazzled and pleased her as nothing ever had before. She only hoped that he wouldn’t be disappointed in her.
Her eye caught movement on the patio below, then Rollin was bounding up the steps to her. He had obviously done more than simply talk to the staff. His hair was still damp from the shower. He now had the look of a beachcomber, white slacks, white buttondown shirt and bare feet. He moved with an almost catlike grace, powerful and ready to move quickly in any direction. He stopped at the top of the stairs and grinned, taking in her attire. She struck her best model’s pose, unconsciously accentuating the best features of both the gown and her own body.
“Well? What do you think?” she asked softly.
He walked slowly toward her. “I think that I’m the luckiest groom in the history of the world.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her softly. Her arms crept around his neck and his hands moved up and down her back, feeling every curve through the soft, thin fabric. “You are, so beautiful,” he murmured softly into her ear. His lips moved to kiss her, just below the ear and she shivered with desire for him.
He had removed his coat and tie. She drew her hand around his collar and began to unbutton his shirt. “Rollin, I want to see you. All of you,” she whispered.
Rollin kissed her again, more hungrily this time. She welcomed his kiss and encouraged him to probe deeper within her. They had kissed before, mostly as other people, other characters, this time they held nothing back, and she was so glad that they could simply be themselves. Her hand caressed his cheek, smooth and freshly shaven, then moved down his chest to his open shirt. She liked the rough feel of his chest hair against her skin. His hand moved around to gently touch her breast through the nightgown. She felt as if she were on fire.
An arm around her, he drew her into the bedroom. She could hear soft guitar music playing and looked around. She noticed two small speakers in the corners of the room.
“The stereo is downstairs,” he explained. “I asked them to find something like this.”
“It sounds beautiful.”
“Not half as beautiful as you.”
Her shoulder strap had again fallen to one side, and Rollin caressed her bare shoulder, and with one finger, gently followed the low neckline of the gown. “Champagne?” he asked, nodding to the sitting area. She had not noticed until now the cooler sitting beside the loveseat.
She shook her head. “Later.” She glanced at the bed with a smile, letting him know exactly what she wanted. She pulled the shirt from his shoulders and ran her hands down his chest. “I feel as if I have waited for this moment forever.”
His kisses were light against her cheek, her lips, her jaw, and oh, her ear. She tingled down to her toes. His hands gently touched her nipples through the fabric of her gown, then his fingers found their way inside the gown to her skin. He continued to kiss her, moving down her neck, and pushing the fabric down so he could kiss her breasts, her nipples. His tongue moved across her and she gasped with pleasure. Nothing had ever made her feel quite like this. He seemed to read her mind, and moved to attend to her other nipple as well. She placed her hand against the back of his head and kissed the top of his dark hair. “Oh, Rollin.”
His hands were on her hips. They moved to caress her bottom and she moved to unbuckle his belt. He stood, and their eyes met as she unfastened the pants and drew the zipper down. She could feel him behind the pants, large and waiting to be set free. He stood with his hands gently on her shoulder as she slowly placed her hands inside his shorts, and moved her hands gently around his waistband. Palms against his flesh, she pushed his shorts and pants down together.
Her palms moved down his thighs and she looked down between them, eager to see him. His size was impressive, and perhaps, an indication of how impressed he was with her. She touched him with her fingertips. The smooth skin invited her to stroke him. He was a body of contradictions, his chest hair rough and stimulating, his engorged shaft warm and smooth as the satin of her gown. It moved beneath her, responding to her touch.
Rollin kissed the top of her head, then stepped out of his pants and shorts. “Come,” he said softly, taking her elbow and inviting her to the bed. She drew back the covers. He sat and took her hand to draw her in front of him. One hand touched her thigh gently then moved up the slit in the side of her gown, caressing the bare skin. Then he gently tugged at her gown, pulling it down from her breasts and over her hips to lie on the floor at her feet. He reached up to touch her breasts, then moved his fingertips lightly down her abdomen to the triangle of her pubic hair. He touched her lightly, then lay back on the bed, drawing her down next to him with her hand in his.
She sat beside him, still curious, still wanting to explore and touch. He seemed to understand completely without words. He lay on his back, his hands touching her, and she touched him. He gently caressed her breast, rubbing her nipple with his thumb. She leaned down and kissed him in the middle of his chest, then moved her kisses down across his abdomen. She looked up at his face, hoping that he didn’t mind letting her explore this new territory some. He lay completely relaxed, a look of contentment on his face. As she hesitated, he opened his eyes and smiled gently at her. She continued her kisses, tongue tasting lightly as she went. She rubbed her cheek against the silky smoothness of his shaft. A spot of liquid appeared and she touched it with a fingertip. He was breathing deeply now, fully aroused beneath her.
She stretched out beside him and he turned to her. They lay side by side, green eyes greeting blue. His hand moved down her side to her thigh and they exchanged a smile. She raised her thigh and his hand moved to her inner thigh, moving lightly over her pubic hair again as he had done as she stood in front of him. He moved toward her and their lips touched. She opened her mouth, welcoming his taste, his probing tongue. His fingers moved surely between her legs, caressing the wet folds. One finger moved up and she moaned with pleasure as he gently found her most sensitive spot. His fingers continued their exploration, moving deep inside her, first one finger, then two. She clung to him, his kiss still deep.
He pulled back slightly. “Okay?”
“Oh, yes,” she gasped. His fingers continued to move and stimulate. “Rollin, please. I want you inside of me.”
He rolled on top of her and her legs grasped him tightly. He propped himself on his elbows and she leaned up, eager for his lips again. He entered her slowly, gently, watching her face for her reaction. She pressed herself to him, wanting all of him inside her. When he filled her, he paused for a moment and kissed her. She touched his smooth cheek and moved her hand down to his shoulder. Then he began to move against her, in and out, in a slow easy rhythm. He was still watching for her reaction. She smiled, enjoying the feel of his body and hers together. He increased the tempo and she moaned with delight as he rubbed against her sensitive area, sending waves of pleasure that seemed to match the rhythm he set. Her hands grasped his shoulder and he shifted just slightly, so that his chest rubbed gently against her nipples, increasing her stimulation.
“Oh, Rollin!” Her imagination had never quite prepared her for this reality, and she had the feeling that he was holding himself back, waiting for something. The waves of sensation continued to crash against her and she gripped his shoulders harder. She arched her back, pushing as he pushed, and her orgasm overtook her completely. Then she felt him releasing inside her. It thrilled her as nothing else had and his thrusts continued as she called his name again and again.
Her breath came in gasps. She didn’t want this to ever end. He pressed tightly against her, holding her close, whispering how much he loved her, and wanted her, and would always cherish her. Somehow these intimate promises made her feel much more married than any ceremony could ever do.
He pulled out of her slowly and rolled onto his side, continuing to hold her to him. She felt as if she had lost a piece of herself. She was eager to have it back—back where it belonged.
“Rollin?” She whispered as her breathing returned to normal. “Is it always like that?”
His eyes met hers, and he smiled that lopsided smile of his. “Only with your one true love. Then it’s like that every time.”
She laughed softly, not sure if he were teasing her or not. He held her and caressed her and encouraged her explorations. He brought the champagne to bed and they toasted each other and touched each other. The full moon hung low in the west, turning the bay below them to silver when he finally turned out the amber lamps above them. Bathed in silver moonlight they held each other close and slipped into dreamless sleep, knowing they could wake to begin again later in the morning.
The next morning Cinnamon awoke and found herself alone in the bed. She rolled onto her back and looked around the room, remembering the night before. She smiled and stretched, and felt a bit of an ache between her legs. She sat up.
Rollin was just coming up the steps from the pool. There was a towel draped over his shoulder, and he wore a swimsuit of royal blue with white stripes down the side. “Good morning, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”
She smiled at him. “Good morning. I’m feeling just slightly sore, and very hungry.”
Rollin turned and picked up the phone. “Hello. Mrs. Hand and I will have breakfast on the patio in fifteen minutes. Gracias.” He put the phone down and held out his hand.
She stood and gave him a quick kiss. “I need a shower first.”
Rollin nodded. “Then how about a walk on the beach?”
“That sounds lovely.” She turned toward the bathroom.
He held onto her hand. “You’re not too sore, are you?” Rollin asked with concern.
Cinnamon gave him one of her best flirty looks. “I hope it’s a very short walk,” she said with a wink. She slipped her hand out of his and disappeared into the bathroom.
End part 8