Page 101 of Not Quite a Lady
His tongue was relentless, plunging, plundering, claiming her, as though she might have any intention of resisting. She could feel his anger still, it must be burning through his veins, just as her own fear, transmuted into desire, burned through hers.
His fingers were at her waist, struggling with the buckle of the heavy leather belt. It fell away. ‘What the devil are you wearing?’
‘Trousers.’ Lily tugged at the fastenings, her fingers tangling with Jack’s in their mutual urgency.
‘Well, you are never going to wear them again. Of all the improper–’ He broke off, on a gasp of laughter that answered hers. ‘Yes, well, never mind that now.’
The trousers dropped away, Jack was doing something to the fall of his own and then Lily found herself lifted, braced against the tree trunk solid at her back.
Jack shrugged out of his greatcoat. ‘Damn these clothes. Lily–’
Acting on instinct she wrapped her legs around his waist, panting a little. One hand cupped her bare bottom while the other stroked down, found the warm tangle of curls, slid between their locked bodies. Found her.
‘Jack.’
He shifted her slightly and she felt him, aroused, already brushing against her. ‘Lily, sweetheart, be mine?’
‘Yes, oh yes, yes…’
He moved, just a little, nudging against her, entering her a fraction. Lily stiffened. It was almost like it had been when he had made love to her in London. Almost. This was different, this was...more.
She searched his face for reassurance, found it in the grey eyes steady on hers, in the taut tendons of his neck. He was fighting for control, fighting not to frighten or hurt her.
Lily felt the trust wash through her, only to be swept away by a jolt of desire so intense she almost cried out. ‘Yes. I love you.’
He lowered her a little, watching her, filling her with love as he filled her with his body. Waves of arousal rippled through her belly, lower, lower, then suddenly it was as though he had hit a barrier. Lily caught back a little cry, tightened her arms around Jack’s neck for reassurance.
‘Sweetheart, I can go slowly, or I can go fast. Beyond this, I promise it will not hurt any more.’
‘Fast.’ She locked her lips on his, let her cry be swallowed in his kiss as he plunged, took her in one long thrust that turned pain into pleasure, sent her over the edge, down, falling into delight so intense she thought she must die of it.
Somewhere, beyond the swirling blackness, the stars, the liquid delight that turned her limbs to water so that she could hardly cling to him, she was aware of the hard, virile body, sheathed in hers, the final thrust as he joined her.
I have done this,she thought hazily as he collapsed against her.
Lily came to herself to find they were still in the same position, only Jack was nuzzling gently at the angle where her neck met her shoulder.
‘So soft,’ he murmured.
‘I do not think I have any bones left,’ Lily confessed. ‘Jack, that was so wonderful, I do love you.’
‘I love you too. I had no idea how much.’ He straightened up, gingerly. ‘I will try not to drop you.’
Unsteadily Lily regained her feet, looked down at herself then regarded her lover.
‘Jack, we look like the cross between a carriage accident and an orgy.’
‘What do you know about orgies?’ He was buttoning histrousers and stuffing his shirt back in.
‘Nothing,’ Lily retorted demurely. ‘Although I hope to learn, providing one can have them with only two participants.’ She held up her borrowed trousers. ‘I do not think I can bear to put those on again.’
‘No.’ Jack regarded her, his expression a cross between desire and amusement. ‘How did you get to the mine?’
Lily explained, and was left to regain what composure she could while Jack rode off to get the gig.
He drove her back, wrapped in his greatcoat, the grey hunter trotting along behind.
‘Miss France fell in the river,’ he explained blandly to the concerned grooms who hurried to greet them. ‘I must get her inside as soon as possible before she catches a chill.
