Page 30 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
William abandoned what seemed to be all good sense. He held onto the kiss for as long as he could, thinking only of the way Becca leaned back up toward him. Her hands, which had gone first for his chest, now curled around the edge of his waistcoat, pulling him even further down toward her.
At her intimate touch, he grew bolder, shifting his hand from the side of her arm to her waist. He slipped his hand around her, placing his palm on her back and shifting her forward. She moved easily, willingly, until their bodies molded together, and he could feel every inch of her tall, willowy figure pressed up against him.
He parted her lips, pushing in deeper, tangling her tongue with his own. Such heat shot through him that the way she made a small mewling sound into the kiss made the desire rocket through him as if struck by lightning. His hand splayed across her back, and her fingers pulled more at the edge of his waistcoat.
He backed her up and they ended up colliding with the edge of the table. Some of the papers fell off, but neither of them broke off from their kiss to pick the papers back up again. They just deepened the kiss. He dominated the kiss, and to his amazement, she seemed to love it, pulling at him more and more.
Excitement consumed him like he had never known before. This was what it was like to be completely free, to do as he wished, to indulge in pleasure and excitement that only Becca had ever made him feel.
A sound in a distant region of the house made them pull their lips apart, but they didn’t release each other. They stood there, both panting, their chests rising and falling in such a way that through her clothes and stays, he could feel her breasts against him. It hardly helped when he was trying to abate his desire, to stop himself from pushing this moment even further.
“We’ll be discovered,” she whispered.
“I know.” With difficulty, he pulled himself back from her.
It was just in time, for two maids walked past the open doorway of the drawing room, talking together as they carried coal scuttles. They didn’t even glance through the doorway, but the risk was so great that both he and Becca sighed with relief.
“Regret it?” Becca whispered after the maids had disappeared.
“Not a chance,” he assured her, finding her gaze.
She smiled so broadly, as did he, that for a minute, neither of them did anything. He wanted to pull her back into another kiss, but with the open door, they could not.
“Well, I suppose we should get back to work,” Becca said with a giggle and turned to pick up the papers. He bent down to help her, and this time, they frequently bumped hands as they picked up the papers, neither one of them pulling back.
***
“Tell me more,” Becca said from where she knelt on the parlor rug, passing William papers to look over.
It was getting late, and the night was pulling in with the sun dropping down. She should have been on her way hours ago, but on her fourth trip to the house, it had seemed all too easy to stay, and William showed no sign of asking her to go. If anything, he seemed more at ease than ever before. He’d shed his tailcoat, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as they looked through the papers together, conducting their research.
“I don’t know. Have you never just wanted to run with complete freedom somewhere?” William asked with interest as he sat down in the armchair nearest to her, glancing at the paper in his hand.
“That was how I felt after my father’s funeral. I took a horse from the stable and rode through London. I explored every part I could get to and was gone so long that in the end, Henry came looking for me. He found me standing by the Thames, watching the people out on the water. I wasn’t looking at anything in particular, just observing the way that others lived their life. It fascinated me.”
“It’s how you wish to live?”
“Quite so.” He added the paper she had passed him to one of the piles they were creating, ready for her to take them home so she could begin her account of George Dorset’s life and misdeeds.
“What else do you want from life? You want freedom, yes, liberty, but what does that amount to?”
“I suppose it’s not just the fact that before, I was not allowed to go anywhere, but now I am nervous to go places.” He sighed deeply, and the saddened sound captured Becca’s attention. She watched him, aware that behind him, the clock was ticking on, and if she didn’t return home soon, her father would wonder where she was, but it was impossible to leave just yet.
“The night you and I met, I was so nervous about going to an assembly for the first time. I heard the gossipers, feared how to talk to people I did not know either.”
“You are very good at conversation,” she pointed out. “You have always made me feel at ease.”
“That is because you put me at ease first,” he remarked, pointing at her.
“It had nothing to do with the fact I walked right into you?” she asked, playfully smiling. “The way you and I grabbed at one another?”
His smile grew, and he chuckled.
“Well, maybe that had something to do with it. You didn’t exactly leap away from me as if a devil had touched you.”
“There was a reason for that.”
They continued to share that smile, even as Becca grew increasingly aware of the ticking clock.
