Catch up on the rest of the series here! Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
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Linda started up suddenly out of a heavy sleep.
Her mind was muddled. What had she been dreaming?
Her eyes strained to focus in the darkness of the bedroom. She glanced beside her and found Max’s side of the bed vacant. A shot of panic thudded in her stomach. Why was he not back yet from SS headquarters? Surely he should have been home hours ago. Then she squinted at the clock and made out the time: ten-thirty. Goodness, she’d only been asleep for half an hour! Sinking back onto her pillow and snuggling in, she tried to calm her heartbeat. Max often was kept until midnight at his post.
The Nazi regime was thoroughly entrenched in Paris; even the weak Vichy government was so poisoned by Nazi thinking that it created a military police to fight the French Resistance, its own people. Deportations of Jews continued. As an officer in the SS, Max headed up interrogations and executions. He was exhausted. Only a few weeks ago a surprise midnight visit from the Gestapo nearly resulted in his double role being discovered. By God’s grace, it had not.
With a deep sigh, Linda closed her eyes. She knew something had to happen, and soon. A lieutenant in the SS could not deceive his compatriots forever. Whenever he had the opportunity, or could create an opportunity, he released victims of the vicious Gestapo and did all he could to get them out of the city. The French Resistance and other sympathetic Germans helped. There were always plenty of bodies – the sight of which tormented Max – so he had “evidence” that he had carried out executions. But when would someone start looking deeper? How long before it was found that one of their own super-soldiers was a traitor?
The idea of Max being carted away to one of those terrible camps, or simply shot, brought tears to Linda’s eyes. Strange that she should love this man so much. And yet, after eight months of marriage and all that had transpired between them, it wasn’t so very strange. Since he had come to faith in Jesus, their bond had strengthened. He was desperate for something to hold onto as he battled the hell surrounding him. With her gentle leading, he was learning how to rely on God.
Just then her hand wandered to her soft belly, thinly covered by her slip. She smiled. Only today she had found out something else, something very sweet and delightful that she would soon tell him.
Mulling over tender moments between her and her husband drew her back into sleep, picking up the thread of the dream she had abruptly woken from…
**********
It was the third day of their honeymoon. Still so new in their relationship, and still with so many walls between them, they hadn’t yet built the foundation of trust and loyalty so necessary in a marriage. The binding element was sex. Linda couldn’t believe what an animal Max was; it was clear how much he enjoyed bedding her. But he was also extremely knowledgeable and generous and insisted that she receive pleasure every time, and reach a satisfying finish. To be so ravished by a man was beyond anything she’d ever imagined, and though she worried in the back of her mind about their future, she loved the closeness to him.
It being such a beautiful summer day, Max suggested they tear themselves away from their apartment and take advantage of the weather. Linda packed a picnic and they drove out along the Seine. The sun and wind felt good. Linda tried to ignore the signs of the occupation and focused on the slow-flowing river, thick green trees, and general busy atmosphere.
Finally the landscape became more rural and Max pulled off the road into a shady spot. He came around to open Linda’s door, fetched the picnic basket, and took her hand. They walked a ways until they couldn’t see the road or the car. Trees laden with summer leaves lined the riverbank, offering some respite from the sun’s heat. Max and Linda laid a blanket on the grass under an oak and ate a leisurely lunch. When finished, Max stretched out and reclined on his elbows.
Linda set aside her glass of lemonade. “Max, is it all right if I say something rather blunt?”
“That is one reason I admire you,” he answered genially. “Your American frankness. Please say on.”
“Well…you’re a strange man.” She paused, hoping that wasn’t too blunt.
Max laughed outright, which eased her. “I have been called many things, little bride, but ‘strange’ is not one of them. Tell me why you find me an oddity.”
She smiled, then went sober again, letting her eyes devour the strong contours of his face. “I think you know. You say you’re one thing, but with me, you’re not at all what I’ve been led to believe about…well, about the Nazis.”
The songs of birds and rustling of branches in the breeze reigned before Max answered, and his answer was a question. “Do you dislike the way I am with you?” He raised his eyes to her face curiously.
“No,” she said gently. “But it confuses me.”
“War is confusing,” Max elaborated. “As I said to you before, people are placed in circumstances not of their choosing, and forced to make choices that in a sane world would never be presented to them.”
Linda lay back so she could look up at the sun-spattered leaves fluttering above her. “I suppose marrying me puts you in a delicate situation,” she said inquiringly.
He glanced down at her, noticing how her breasts peacefully rose and fell with her breathing. “No more so than I was before. I am a German, and I seek to honor my heritage.” He stopped and looked out meditatively over the water.
“I’m trying to understand you, Max. I truly am,” Linda stated. “But I think of you in that office, and people being arrested and brought –”
“Do not think of that,” he cut in, his voice quiet but firm. “Remember? We agreed. Let us not spoil this little window of peace with talk of war.”
She saw the shadow in his eyes again, and relented. “Forgive me.”
“You are so easily persuaded to kindness,” he noted, with both admiration and interest. “I have known women who delighted to antagonize me at every turn, even if I was the most amiable and decent lover.”
Linda couldn’t help but dislike his reference to past affairs. But she answered graciously, “If I am different, I’m glad.”
“You are different, and I like it,” he declared, his voice serious. He seemed to sense her disapproval, and added, “I have never cared for a woman as I do you.”
She gazed up at him. “I want to believe that,” she confessed.
A split second of stillness passed, then he rolled to his side and pressed his mouth to hers. A heated, desperate kiss erupted between them. He was nearly on top of her. She felt his hands on her sides, creeping up beneath her breasts. Instinctively she wrapped her arms around him. The wet joining of his tongue with hers made her weak. It amazed her how much the act of kissing could arouse her.
“My very lovely…goodhearted…sensual bride,” Max muttered, his lips marking her jawline. “Do you realize how you torture me?”
“Max…” she breathed, her hands all over his back. She relished the primality of his hips grinding into her. “You feel so good, so strong.”
“And you are the sweetest, softest, most delicious woman,” he rejoined, mouth sucking at her neck. His hands clawed at her blouse.
Another nudge of his hips, and she felt the unmistakable stone-hard indicator of his lust.
“Oh God,” she couldn’t help gasping.
“I must have you. Let me make love to you now, out here,” he urged roughly.
“Yes…yes!” Linda cared nothing about possibly being observed. She was aching to feel her husband claim her body again.
In a fever of sexual hunger, they both sat up and tore off their clothes. Their skin must connect. Linda pulled Max onto her again and kissed him passionately, whispering, “Please, Max, make me yours.”
That plea would ignite any man’s blood, and it certainly did Max’s. He rubbed his hardness against her very damp lower lips, drawing little sighs of enjoyment from her. With one hand he reached down to place the head of his shaft at her opening. She fixed her eyes on his face as she waited for him to unite their bodies. It might hurt a bit – they had made love so many times that she hardly had the chance to rest – yet she knew that pleasure would soon overpower pain. Max would see to that.
A mighty thrust, and he was deep within her. She gasped with a long, strangled cry. He silenced it by attacking her mouth again with a hungry kiss. Then, with eager, almost excited movement, he commenced his siege on her intoxicatingly warm, tight, and wet core.
“Yes…oh yes, Max!” she encouraged. Her fingers crept between their rubbing bodies so she could touch her clitoris, that fiery bud of delight.
“My God…Linda…you will be the death of me,” he groaned out, lightheaded from the feeling and the scent of her.
It was a fast, impassioned joining, perhaps a demonstration of pure lust to any onlooker, but for this strangely-paired couple, the need to somehow take part in each other was of highest necessity. It was the only way to keep their sanity in a world and a marriage that no one could call normal.
With the powerful ramming of Max’s slick manhood into her depths, Linda could do nothing but grip him and try to breathe between gasps. How could a thick cock, angled just so, ignite such hot wet pleasure in her loins? She was driven to help stoke that flame by massaging her sweet clit. Her husband grunting and growling in her ear increased her desire.
Max began to shake, though his pounding didn’t slow at all. Linda knew the signs…he was going to climax. She must do it with him. She wanted to. A few more furious strokes of her clitoris, another scrape of Max’s cockhead against her G-spot, and she let out a full-throated cry.
“Ah yes! Yes! So damn good!” Max cursed.
Heat and convulsions spread through her pelvis and Linda came, hard. She shouted his name and other things. Max came a second later. She could sense his creamy sperm filling her. They trembled and gasped together, overheated from the sun and the exertion of their coupling. They were moist with sweat and sexual fluid, and each swallowed the breath of the other. Nothing could be more intimate. In those moments of marital oneness, Linda felt that it was possible, just possible, that she and Max could make it…
**********
“Schatzi, my love, are you awake?”
Linda turned over and found Max bending over her. “Oh…darling, you’re home!” she exclaimed, still half-asleep and disoriented.
“I am home. Forgive me if I woke you. You were calling my name rather loudly,” Max said, his soft tone amused.
“I was dreaming,” Linda explained, smiling.
“It must have been a delightful dream,” he observed, also smiling.
She crept into his embrace once he was in bed with her. “It was. Oh, it was.”
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