Page 93 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
‘Are you going back indoors?’ she asked.
‘No. Hopefully everyone will leave soon, and they are capable of saying their goodbyes.’
‘I wish there was something I could do to help. I have longed to do something to help all day…’
Ah, darn. That is a foolish thing to say, Susan.He knew exactly how she could help him.
Without another moment’s thought he braced the weight of his body with one hand on the grass and turned. His other hand reached out and carefully removed her spectacles. She squinted at him.
‘I cannot tell you how much I wish I had not promised to let you go. I want to go back and be selfish… I have longed to hold you and kiss you all day.’
He reached over and put her spectacles down by the bottle, losing his balance a little as he turned back around.
‘Henry…’ Confusion clouded her pale eyes.
‘If you want to help me, kiss me.’
She answered by leaning forward and pressing her lips against his. His palm held her nape and he opened his mouth and kissed her more earnestly, his tongue desperately reaching for hers. After a few moments, he leaned her back, his hand bracing her neck so she descended gently. Then he was leaning over her, his forearm resting on their damp bed of grass as his tongue delved into and out from her mouth.
After a moment, he broke the kiss. ‘Susan.’ He said her name over her lips then kissed her cheek, her jaw, and her temple. There was one thing that would take away all the pain.
His hand left her nape and brushed the side of her body.
When he kissed her again, she arched upwards, her body crying out for exactly what his wanted.
She could comfort him. She had all he needed to find comfort.
Her tongue danced with his, while his hand embraced the curve beneath her breast.
Her hand laid on the back of his head, not stopping him, and by not stopping him, agreeing to this.
His hand covered her breast, and squeezed firmly. She sucked in a breath through their kiss. His fingers released and squeezed again. She sighed. His thumb ran over the nipple he could feel hardening through the material of her gown.
He kissed her jaw again and her neck as his thumb continued to stroke across her breast.
‘Henry…’
He looked at her. ‘Susan…?’
She had spoken his name with a sound of awe. He had usedher name as a question. He wanted more. He needed all the comfort she could give.
His desire spurred him to open her bodice, free her breast and touch her flesh, but her dress was buttoned all the way up the back and even if he freed those buttons there would then be her chemise and corset to master. Such clothing did not welcome intrusion. But her skirt and petticoats. His hand fell and began drawing them up, his hand opening and then clasping in the material and pulling it up as he kissed her again.
Her hand caught hold of his, stopping him. ‘Henry.’ Now there was a note of caution in his name.
He leaned up, looking into her eyes.
Her gaze searched his with a mix of desire, wonder and doubt.
She wanted him physically just as much as he wanted her. She might have turned her back on him for the sake of her sister, but her heart had not turned away.
‘Susan… Will you? Please.’ He asked the question again, his hand still holding a fist full of material. He rubbed it against her thigh, so she could not be in doubt about what he was asking, what he wanted – all of her.
She stared at him for a moment more as he watched the pulse of her heartbeat in the artery in her neck. He bowed his head and kissed the place, wishing the neck of her gown was not so high, so, he might kiss her shoulder and her clavicle, then her breast. He needed to feel the softness of her body after so many days of facing the hard realities of life.
He kissed along her jaw, his hand still holding a fistful of her dress and petticoats, with her hand clasped over his.
‘Henry.’
