Page 65 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
It swelled and became sensitised and taut?—
‘I know, my lord, I was charmed by it too, I cannot believe…’ A woman’s voice swept along the path.
Henry’s hands fell and he straightened instantly, looking along the path. ‘They are on the other side of the hedge,’ he whispered. ‘Come.’ He grasped her hand and pulled her out of the arbour but did not turn towards the house, he pulled her through a break in the hedge on the right, further into the garden.
She was drawn about the end of another hedge and pushed back against the prickly branches. He still held her hand as his other hand embraced her nape, his thumb reaching to press against her throat.
Henry breathed heavily as his gaze met hers. His thumb liftedand brushed along the line of her jaw. ‘Let me tell Alethea about us.’
‘No. There is nothing to tell. She has grown up thinking you will be hers. She believes it. She has waited for you.’
‘She will be happy with Stourton.’
‘She only speaks to him to make you jealous. Henry, you cannot like me.’
‘I have no choice in it.’
She knew.
The pressure from his thumb against her jaw lifted her chin, angling her lips, and then his covered hers.
Her arms wrapped around his neck. She would never feel like this again – never be happy again – she wished to savour every drop of these last moments, and they would be moments, her parents would notice she had left the ballroom if they stayed here much longer.
His tongue danced with hers and the heel of his hand braced the edge of her breast as his thumb lifted and then stroked her nipple through the cloth. The movement drew all her awareness.
She longed for more. To discover every sensation with him. But there was Alethea to think of.
She broke the kiss, breathing hard. ‘Henry.’
His forehead rested against hers, as his thumb continued to stroke across her nipple. ‘If I could, Susan, I would release the buttons at your back and unlace your corset, and lift your breast to my mouth and suck your nipple. If I could, I would lay you down and do far more.’ His brown eyes burned with desire.
The ache that had been twisting through all her muscles grasped at those between her legs.
‘But we must return to the ballroom,’ he said. ‘Uncle Casper will be looking for you, and I shall restrain myself until we marry.’
Marry?
No. There was no hope of that. He must know that.
He pressed another kiss on her lips, then pulled away.
Her forehead fell onto his shoulder and she held him tighter, leaning into the crook of his neck. ‘You are promised to Alethea. You cannot marry me.’
His hands braced her waist, holding her between his body and the hedge.
She met his gaze. ‘You have to let me go.’
‘I will tell Alethea now?—’
‘It does not matter.’ Her voice flooded with the pain she did not want him to hear.
‘She and I cannot be?—’
‘I know.’ Her hand lifted and covered his lips, to stop him arguing. His warm breath seeped through her satin glove. ‘And I cannot do this. She is my sister. Do you not see?’
He would have kissed her again, but she turned her head. ‘We are being selfish.’
‘I wish to be selfish in this!’ He was becoming angry.
