Page 49 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman
Lust screamed.
Her fingers touched the skin at his waist, they were cold.
He cupped her breast. It filled his palm and his fingers splayed as he kneaded her flesh through the damp cloth, remembering the feel of soft skin, as his lips pressed down on hers.
She broke their kiss again. ‘May we lie down?’
He kissed her temple. ‘Yes. But I doubt we will be comfortable on that wooden bed.’
‘I do not care. Would you help me remove my habit? It is heavy and awkward.’
Her hands shook as she struggled to release the small buttons at her chest. He took over the task, then helped her peel off the soaked dress from her shoulders and arms.
She wore only a chemise beneath it. She must have left off her corset due to the heat. The chemise was wet through and translucent; it clung to her dark-pink nipples and the curves of her breasts. ‘Step out of the dress and I will hang it from a rafter so it will dry a little.’
She lay a hand on his shoulder as he held the dress and she stepped out of it.
The damp cotton of her chemise clung at her hips, bottom and thighs; he could see the dark hair at her groin. She was not wearing the modern drawers that some women now wore; she wore nothing but the chemise.
Sensations tore through his body from his chest through his stomach to his groin. It was Harry’s addiction – lust.
Mine is Caro. What will I do in London without her…?
He hung her dress, then turned and reclaimed her, kissing her firmly and backing her towards the narrow bed, his tongue thrusting into her mouth.
‘Wait.’ She stopped him and freed the small buttons at the front of her chemise as he watched. It hung open, revealing the amber cross she wore and the first curve of each breast.
When she lay down the little cross slid to the left. ‘You have held back since the night of the dance, Rob. Do not hold back any more. Let us make a memory today.’
He watched her lift her hips and work up the hem of her chemise to the top of her thighs.
She lay there, exposed for him. There was only space on the bed for him to lie with his legs between hers, and his body over hers.
‘Take off your shirt. You are wet too.’
He did, pulling it awkwardly over his head, because it was wet and would not slide easily. He hung it up beside Caro’s dress.
She rested up on an elbow, reached for his hand and brought his hand to her breast. ‘This is what I want.’
He knew what she wanted. He rested a knee between her parted legs, on the hard wood, and held the bedframe beside her shoulder bracing his weight. Then his other hand closed about her breast. She parted her legs wider, making space for his other knee.
His imagination cried out for him to do a hundred different things as he leaned forward and took her nipple between his teeth through the damp cotton.
Outside, another flash lit up the sky, but the rumble of thunder came long after.
He pulled the cotton aside with his teeth, then kissed her bare breast, before cradling her nipple on his tongue and sucking it fiercely as he had done that night.
She arched beneath him.
It still poured with rain outside, its rhythm hammering on the roof of the hut.
His instincts – the dry need in his throat and lust in his groin – called for him to progress as her body continually lifted, pressing up against his erection.
Caro’s fingers ran over his shoulders and down across his back to the waistband of his trousers.
The tips of her fingers slipped beneath the band, reaching towards his buttocks, as she pressed her pelvis up against his erection, urging him to do things he should not.
The lust and thirst inside him gathered like the storm. He let her nipple slip from his mouth, raised himself up and stared down at her as her hips dropped back.
