Page 33 of Secrets of the Marriage Bed
Pretty. He though her pretty. Her body warmed, but she managed to avoid giggling. ‘Feathers do that,’ she agreed, hoping she sounded calm. ‘There is enough shade for me to take it off.’
‘Let me.’
He untied the strings beneath her chin, unerringly found the hatpin and eased the hat off her head. He kissed her cheek and tossed the hat to the ground.
‘Your Grace!’ she said. She leaned over and saw it had landed on the grass. ‘That is no way to treat such an expensive hat.’
He ran his knuckles along her jaw. The light caress made her shiver. ‘You will call me Alistair when we are alone, will you not? “Your Grace” is far too formal when we are private.’
Finally, a chink in his armour. She could not help but feel glad, if a little cautious. ‘If you will call me Julia.’
His expression softened. ‘I will.’
His eyelashes lowered and she watched his hand draw a circle on her shoulder, reminding her of the first time they met when he had drawn words all over her body with a finger dipped in red wine. Her insides gave a pleasurable little pulse. Was he remembering that, too?
‘I am a lucky man,’ he said softly. ‘It is not often one finds such an exotic bird in an ordinary English orchard.
She wasn’t used to this. She didn’t know what to say, but the ground did seem a long way below. ‘This bird cannot fly.’
‘I will not let you fall. Trust me. ‘
She did trust him. Somewhat. But it was hard to relax when the seat beneath one moved with every little breeze.
Then he leaned close and kissed her, a light brush of his lips, that was comforting. Reassuring. Delicious. Gradually, the kiss turned into something far more heated.
His lips roamed her face, ending up beneath her ear. One hand grazed her breast. Heat blossomed between her thighs. She gasped.
Her throat suddenly dry, her insides clenching, she swallowed. ‘I do not think this is such a good idea.’
He straightened his legs and drew her into his lap, turning her face with fingers on her jaw and kissing her deeply, his tongue stroking hers until her heart was thumping wildly and she could scarcely breathe. He lifted his head and gazed into her face. ‘Is that what you really think, sweetheart?’
Thinking was beyond her. ‘Alistair,’ she said, and sighed.
His lips descended once more, wooing, teasing, tormenting.
Returning his kiss, loving the silky slide of her tongue against his, she clutched at his shoulders, pressing her aching breasts against the satisfyingly hard wall of his chest. Though she had only ever known him carnally once, she had missed this. Missed the feel of him.
She sighed.
He shifted. The hard ridge of his arousal pressed against her hip. He desired her.
She stroked his shoulders, his back, then combed her fingers through his silky hair and felt as if she was flying.
But a niggling doubt wouldn’t be ignored. Why on earth was he kissing her after all these days of cold reserve and why in a tree?
* * *
When he set out this morning, he’d simply wanted to show Julia his home. As well as gain a little of her trust. He had given the old tree fort a passing thought with the vague idea that she might be intrigued by his boyhood pursuits. Though he’d half expected the planks to be rotten. Or torn down.
He had not expected to be tempted into kissing. This delicious slide of tongue against tongue, her breathing warm against his cheek, her breasts soft against his chest. His body hardened.
He broke their kiss and let go a breath, slowly letting his desire ebb until it was no more than a minor disturbance, a faint beat in his blood he could ignore. A hard-won skill he had never expected to need so drastically.
‘Easy,’ he said.
Her breath hitched and she uttered a little sound of distress she tried to hide. He wanted to curse at that sound. Instead, he let out a long sigh. ‘Any more kisses like that and we’ll be testing our wings.’
She stilled. Tensed. ‘Falling, you mean.’
