Dylan drowsily opened his eyes. The painkillers he’d been taking had dulled most of the agony in his chest, but had left him in a permanent state of weariness. Dylan wasn’t used to keeping still. He was a doer, always on the go, especially as the training yard was still in its infancy, which meant he had been running at full pelt, with very early starts, long, strenuous days and late night finishes. He felt riddled with guilt that Flora was now handling the bulk of running the yard, due to his incapacitation. Thankfully, Tobias had kindly lent them two grooms from the Treweham Hall stables, which had alleviated some of the workload.
Dylan sighed again, watching the early dawn gradually emerge through the bedroom curtains. He desperately longed to saddle up and canter through the sunrise, feel the fresh air on his face and the warmth on his back. This was the longest stretch he had been without riding and he missed it terribly.
He turned his head to look at Flora, lying peacefully asleep next to him. She was an angel, he thought, his heart swelling with love. He watched her chest gently rise and fall. He admired her soft, young flesh, her blonde waves spread across the pillow, her delicate eyelashes and rosebud lips.
Flora had fussed and spoilt him ridiculously since he left hospital, and he had revelled in it, lapping up all the attention. Well, it had been a while since anyone had showed him this much interest, hadn’t it? He was going to milk it for as long as possible. Flora had been a bloody good trouper, coping with the yard as well as nursing him. However Dylan, being Dylan, had urges. He was in dire need of some TLC, and not just the Florence Nightingale kind either. Knowing his acrobatics in the bedroom were somewhat limited at the moment – he could barely move without searing pain shooting through him – he coughed quietly. Flora stirred, having not allowed herself to fall into deep sleep in case Dylan needed her in the night. His hand covered hers.
‘What is it, Dylan?’ she whispered. ‘Do you need your painkillers?’
‘Hmm… no.’
‘Oh.’
‘Flora?’
‘Yes?’
‘Er… would there be any chance of a blowy?’
There was a moment’s pause. ‘Dylan! You’re supposed to be recuperating!’
They both fell silent, then Flora started to giggle uncontrollably, making Dylan join in, then stop instantly as it hurt too much. After a few minutes Flora turned on her side to face him. He looked into her eyes with adoration.
‘Thanks, Flora, for everything.’
She understood him. It was one small sentence, but it carried so much. He was thanking her for much more than just looking after him. Flora smiled mischievously and turned back the bedcovers to reveal Dylan’s bruised and broken body. Despite his injuries he was still in fantastic shape. Flora’s gaze ran over his wide shoulders, dark chest, strong arms, muscled thighs to his enormous, pulsing erection. Dylan caught his breath as she lowered her face to kiss the dark hair running down below his stomach. She hovered over the tip of his shaft, teasing him with butterfly kisses round his hips. He groaned and shifted slightly. Still Flora tantalised him with light kisses, then finally she allowed him satisfaction as her lips covered his throbbing end and her tongue circled the sensitive nib. Dylan let out a cry of ecstasy as her mouth sucked and released him.