I’ll kill them! To his joy no one was there, though the nude pictures looked down thoughtfully from the walls, observing them. She’ll go soon, she’ll go, he thought. She’ll come to her senses or I to mine. This is a good girl, a convent-bred girl, and I am a wretch of desire and know only that.
Oh, such desire.
He pulled her into his bedroom and felt for her dress hooks as she coaxed eagerly at his buttons, pulling down his shirt so that it tangled in one arm, leaving his chest bare. A few pins fell from her hair, which tumbled down her naked back. Such hair! Way down to her round bottom, dangling against the bare flesh. When he pushed her to the bed, he had to knock away the open novel he had left there.
“Camille, Camille,” he repeated.
Thought left him. His breath came faster and she flung her head back and forth, reaching up for him as he entered her. She was warm, warm. He pushed harder, stopping her gasps with his mouth so that her feeling should remain within her and grow warmer there. He cupped her full breast in his hand and thrust faster still. I’m dreaming this, he thought, before all thought left him. Still he held her and felt her own mounting joy. She rose up against him, melding with him, shuddered and cried out, and fell away again.
He held her, kissing her shoulder, and then felt something warm and wet on his cheek. “What, are you crying?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, never.”
“Why then, ma très chère fille?”
“Nothing, just the loveliness of it, the amazing loveliness! Oh, I thought … Claude.”
“What?”
“Rien —nothing worth speaking of!”
She flung her arm across his stomach. In a moment she was asleep, and he also slept, unable to help himself, keeping her warm body in his arms. He dreamt they were rowing, not over the tiny lake of the park as they had that day, but on the vast sea. He rowed steadily while she kept her hand on his knee; before them was nothing but more churning waters as far as they looked.
He awoke suddenly at the sound of loud cracking and pulled her over to his side of the bed, sheltering her body with his own just seconds before something crashed to the floor. “Merde!” he shouted, leaping up naked. “Merde , the ceiling! I knew it! Are you all right? Let me light the lamp.”
“What?” she asked. “Has the ceiling fallen? How could the ceiling fall?”
“Water leaks from the roof. Look.”
Holding his shoulder, she gazed down at the large pieces of ceiling and rotten wood on the floor. Plaster dust hung in the air, making her cough. Looking up she saw the beams that separated the floors and a new hole several feet wide. She stood, just before he shouted, “Watch out, you’ll cut your foot!”
“I think I stepped on something.”
He swept the broken plaster from the sheets, urged her back on the bed, and held up the lamp. “Merde , there’s a splinter in your heel. I used to get them all the time climbing around the shore. There was broken wood from old boats. Quel bordel! I make love to you and then my damned room falls on top of you.”
“Stop! It hurts!”
“Just one moment and I’ll have it. I’d never hurt you, you lovely girl! There! Come here, come close! Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I will be once it stops hurting.”
“Let me kiss it.”
He kissed the bottom of her foot and playfully licked it and she took hold of his hair and cried, “Now it tickles. Your tongue tickles.” Still he continued until he realized she was laughing. She shook her head and her long hair whipped around and her shoulder shook. She laughed so hard she gasped. He was shouting with laughter then, saying, “And this is what you did not expect …”
“Really, it’s quite marvelous! Such a thing has never happened to me before, truly, truly, Claude!” She pushed him away and then dropped back on the pillows, holding out her arms to him.
H E WOKE EARLY to gaze down at her as she slept. Swept into a corner
Oh, such desire.
He pulled her into his bedroom and felt for her dress hooks as she coaxed eagerly at his buttons, pulling down his shirt so that it tangled in one arm, leaving his chest bare. A few pins fell from her hair, which tumbled down her naked back. Such hair! Way down to her round bottom, dangling against the bare flesh. When he pushed her to the bed, he had to knock away the open novel he had left there.
“Camille, Camille,” he repeated.
Thought left him. His breath came faster and she flung her head back and forth, reaching up for him as he entered her. She was warm, warm. He pushed harder, stopping her gasps with his mouth so that her feeling should remain within her and grow warmer there. He cupped her full breast in his hand and thrust faster still. I’m dreaming this, he thought, before all thought left him. Still he held her and felt her own mounting joy. She rose up against him, melding with him, shuddered and cried out, and fell away again.
He held her, kissing her shoulder, and then felt something warm and wet on his cheek. “What, are you crying?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, never.”
“Why then, ma très chère fille?”
“Nothing, just the loveliness of it, the amazing loveliness! Oh, I thought … Claude.”
“What?”
“Rien —nothing worth speaking of!”
She flung her arm across his stomach. In a moment she was asleep, and he also slept, unable to help himself, keeping her warm body in his arms. He dreamt they were rowing, not over the tiny lake of the park as they had that day, but on the vast sea. He rowed steadily while she kept her hand on his knee; before them was nothing but more churning waters as far as they looked.
He awoke suddenly at the sound of loud cracking and pulled her over to his side of the bed, sheltering her body with his own just seconds before something crashed to the floor. “Merde!” he shouted, leaping up naked. “Merde , the ceiling! I knew it! Are you all right? Let me light the lamp.”
“What?” she asked. “Has the ceiling fallen? How could the ceiling fall?”
“Water leaks from the roof. Look.”
Holding his shoulder, she gazed down at the large pieces of ceiling and rotten wood on the floor. Plaster dust hung in the air, making her cough. Looking up she saw the beams that separated the floors and a new hole several feet wide. She stood, just before he shouted, “Watch out, you’ll cut your foot!”
“I think I stepped on something.”
He swept the broken plaster from the sheets, urged her back on the bed, and held up the lamp. “Merde , there’s a splinter in your heel. I used to get them all the time climbing around the shore. There was broken wood from old boats. Quel bordel! I make love to you and then my damned room falls on top of you.”
“Stop! It hurts!”
“Just one moment and I’ll have it. I’d never hurt you, you lovely girl! There! Come here, come close! Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I will be once it stops hurting.”
“Let me kiss it.”
He kissed the bottom of her foot and playfully licked it and she took hold of his hair and cried, “Now it tickles. Your tongue tickles.” Still he continued until he realized she was laughing. She shook her head and her long hair whipped around and her shoulder shook. She laughed so hard she gasped. He was shouting with laughter then, saying, “And this is what you did not expect …”
“Really, it’s quite marvelous! Such a thing has never happened to me before, truly, truly, Claude!” She pushed him away and then dropped back on the pillows, holding out her arms to him.
H E WOKE EARLY to gaze down at her as she slept. Swept into a corner
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