Chapter 9

J oy woke to thin daylight and the smoldering eyes of Moses watching her. He reached out, his calloused fingers tracing the curve of her shoulder before gently pulling up the coverlet. Her body felt heavy, her limbs lax with the effects of peaceful slumber.

With deliberate slowness, he scooted closer, his thigh brushing against hers. Joy gasped at the contact, the heat of his skin searing her own. She felt a shiver of pleasure run down her back as Moses' hand swept under the sheet to her hip, his thumb tracing small circles on her sensitive skin.

"Are you sore?" he asked, low and husky.

She nodded, then smiled shyly. "But not too sore."

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, tasting and teasing, as his hand moved up to cup her breast. Joy moaned into the kiss, her nipples hardening beneath his touch.

With a low growl, he pulled away from the kiss, his lips trailing a path down Joy's neck. He kissed and nipped at her sensitive skin, eliciting gasps and whimpers from her. Her hands gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh as the pleasure built within her.

Pushing aside the covers, he continued his descent, his lips exploring the curve of her breast before closing around her nipple. He sucked and teased the sensitive bud, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak. She arched her back, her head thrown back in ecstasy as he continued his sensual assault on her body.

Moving lower still, his lips traced a path over her stomach. He paused for a moment, his breath hot against her skin as he looked up at her. Her chest heaved and butterflies quivered as she waited for his next move.

His hands gripped her hips, pulling her towards him. He lowered his head, his tongue flicking out to taste her wetness. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over her. His tongue continued its relentless assault, his lips and teeth teasing and tormenting her sensitive flesh.

She could feel herself spiraling towards release, her body trembling with need. As if he sensed her impending climax, he redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking over her clit with relentless precision. With a primal scream, Joy crested, her body wracked with spasms of pleasure as he continued to pleasure her.

As the waves of her orgasm subsided, he moved up to reclaim Joy's lips in a searing kiss. She could taste herself on his lips, the earthy, musky taste of her desire. His hand moved between her thighs, his fingers slipping inside her wet heat. She moaned into the kiss, her hips moving in time with his rhythm.

With a low growl, he rolled onto his back, pulling Joy on top of him. She straddled his hips, her wetness coating his hard length. Her eyes locked with his, her body trembling with anticipation as she positioned herself over him.

He gripped her hips, guiding her down onto his thick length. She cried out as he filled her, her body stretching to accommodate him. She rocked her hips, her movements slow and deliberate as she adjusted to his size.

His hands moved to her breasts, his thumbs teasing her sensitive nipples as she rode him. She could feel herself building towards another release, her body quivering with anticipation. His eyes never left hers, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down her spine.

As her movements grew more frantic, his thrusts grew more powerful. He drove into her with a ferocity that left her breathless, each thrust sending her spiraling closer to the edge.

With a final cry of pleasure, she released again, her body convulsing around Moses' length. He followed her over the edge, his body writhing as he emptied himself inside her.

As their breathing slowed, she collapsed onto his chest, her body spent and sated. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as their bodies settled down.

In the aftermath of their passionate encounter, Joy couldn't help but marvel at the intensity of their connection. She had never experienced anything like it before, and she knew that she never would again. For in that moment, she and Moses had been truly one, their bodies intertwined but also their spirits.

Outside the window, the storm raged on, but the intense fervor between them had subsided, leaving them in a cozy embrace, skin glistening with sweat and passion. The warmth of their bodies created a comforting heat that seemed to envelop Joy. Moses softly stroked her hair as she lay on his chest, the bristly hairs tickling her face. They breathed in unison, the rasp of their breaths mingling. The crackling of the embers was the only other sound in the room.

Joy ran her fingers across his chest, feeling his heartbeat sync with hers. It was a slow rhythm now, but steady and strong like a drumbeat. She closed her eyes and let out a contented sigh, savoring the moment. The aftertaste of their kisses lingered on her tongue, sweet and lingering like honey. She took in a deep breath through her nose, taking in the scent of woodsmoke and their bodies.

Her skin tingled where he touched her, every brush of his fingers felt as if her body was created new with each caress. His hardened muscles rippled underneath her as he breathed deeply. Joy sighed again and let herself settle into sleep.

Moses' hands moved with a practiced rhythm as he brushed the chestnut coat of his horse, Apollo. As he worked, sunlight filtered through the open stable door, casting golden beams upon the hay-strewn floor.

After replacing the horse's blanket on his back, he bent to inspect Apollo's hooves, lifting each with care, ensuring no stones had lodged themselves within the crevices. As he worked, his mind wandered to the events of the past twenty-four hours—events that were as unexpected as they were delightful.

For a man whose companions were typically canvas and paint, the presence of another in his bed was an unfamiliar sensation. Moses reflected on waking beside Joy, her wavy hair cascading over his pillow. The warmth of her body pressed against his had been both comforting and stimulating, stirring something deep within him that was usually reserved for his art.

Cleaning the stall now, Moses let himself be carried away by the memory of her soft sighs and the gentle touch of her hands exploring the contours of his body. Her manner was different to the women who posed for him on occasion, and briefly warmed his sheets. Her laughter, light and intelligent, seemed to linger in the air. Her eyes had sparkled with mirth and something more, perhaps discovery?

The intimacy he had shared with her was not just physical. Something had shifted as they lay in his bed. For the first time in his solitary existence, he realized what it might be like to share his life, his quiet moments with someone else.

"Never thought I'd find myself missing chatter at dawn," he said to Apollo, his speech causing a low rumble in the stillness of the barn. The horse snorted in response, as if understanding the weight of his confession.

He heaved a fresh bale of straw, breaking it apart to scatter across the cleaned stall floor. With each forkful he flung, he attempted to anchor his thoughts in his chores, but they drifted like dandelion seeds on a summer breeze, carrying him towards musings of what his life would return to as soon as the road cleared.

Laying down the last of the straw, Moses stood back, staring out the door at the blinding snow piled high. He envisioned a different life, one filled with companionship and contented silence. He saw them together, not in the passionate embrace of night, but in the tranquil harmony of daylight hours. He allowed himself to dream of sitting side by side with Joy, needing no conversation to fill the air between them.

In this daydream, Moses could nearly hear the scratch of his charcoal on canvas while Joy sat nearby, perhaps embroidering or lost in the pages of a novel. They would share glances and smiles, small gestures rich with meaning, speaking volumes in the tranquility of shared space. It was a vision contrary to the solitude of his life, one he'd never contemplated, sharing the beauty of the mundane.

In his imagination, the soft afternoon light spilled into his studio, dust motes dancing in the lazy afternoon beams. He stood before his easel, his hand moving rhythmically as he added life to the canvas. In the other room, a plush armchair cradled Joy's form, her eyes following the words on the pages of a novel that held her rapt attention.

Occasionally, she would look up from her book and catch his gaze. A smile would play upon her lips, a silent conversation passing between them—a language only they understood. The intimacy of this unvoiced dialogue was more profound than any spoken word, a thread weaving through the very air, binding them softly yet irrevocably.

In those moments, the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the quiet hum of their existence. Here, in this sacred space, Moses felt not the loner he presented to the world but a man capable of deep and abiding tenderness. And Joy, the solemn woman with fire beneath her surface, found a haven for her secret adventurous spirit. By night, their passion blazed, a dance of shadows and whispers against the linens, by day, it was the simple joy in the mundane moments.

Just as Moses dipped his brush into a pool of cobalt blue, a warm nuzzle against his palm pulled him back to reality. He chuckled. His horse peered at him with intelligent eyes, its velvety muzzle nudging insistently towards the apple in his pocket.

"Greedy beast," Moses said affectionately, retrieving the fruit and offering it to the animal. As the horse crunched contentedly, Moses' gaze again wandered out to the open barn door where the land lay buried beneath several feet of snow. It was then that the thought of Joy's imminent departure pricked at his heart like a thorn amongst roses.

The laughter died in his throat, replaced by a solemn tightness. Moses wrestled with the desire to hold time itself, to keep Joy bound within these walls and the precious surroundings of his world.

He stroked the horse's mane, a smile returning to his face, but now tinged with melancholy. "She will be leaving us soon," he confided to the beast, who seemed to flick an ear in understanding. "And what am I to do with such silence?"

Moses patted the horse's flank, a silent farewell as he scooped a final portion of oats into the feeding trough. The animal's breath was warm in the frigid air of the stable, redolent with the scent of hay and leather. The simple act of caring for the creature offered a momentary respite from the churn of his thoughts, but it did little to ease the weight of inevitability that sat upon his chest.

With a last glance at the stall, he secured the latch and straightened his back, feeling each vertebra pop and crackle like the logs in a hearth. His hands, calloused and stained with pigments of sienna and cobalt, now carried the residue of the day's labor—a tangible reminder of life's constant demands, irrespective of one's inner turmoil.

Securing the stable door behind him as he left, he trudged back to the house. He could admit now he'd had built these walls not just of stone and mortar but of stoic resolve and a guarded heart. Yet Joy, with her lighthearted laughter and intelligent eyes, had found her way through the barriers as though they were made of gossamer, leaving traces of her gentle spirit in every corner.

Knowing his wishes meant nothing in the grand scheme did little to quell the burgeoning hope that sprouted within him. A foolish thing, hope, especially for a man so accustomed to the shadows.

He closed the door behind him, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. Yet he could feel her presence somewhere within. "Joy?"

"In the kitchen," she called out.

He smiled. For the moment, he could pretend the dream was real.