Page 43 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
Becca was leaning on her front beside the fire, her feet crossed and lifted in the air behind her. Her gown had slipped down a little and her calves were on show, not that she really cared or noticed. Her body was consumed by the heat of the fire beside her, and her mind was focused on the love letters she was reading.
William had left the room to go and have a brief meeting with his steward, leaving her quite alone to read over the letters. Some of the sections were so passionate, so filled with love, that she couldn’t help welling up at certain parts.
No matter the crimes of his father, clearly, George still had a heart.
“What is it?” William’s voice suddenly disturbed her, and she looked up. He was standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame and watching her intently.
“How long have you been stood there?” she asked.
“Well, I may have been admiring you.” His eyes flitted to the show of her legs, and she laughed, her stomach tighteningagainst the floor as she did so. “Then I noticed your eyes. Something in those letters has upset you.”
“Not exactly.” She shifted to kneeling as he walked into the room. This time, he closed the door behind him.
They only ever closed the door when they were going to share something between them, so she hesitated before she went on, so excited by the thought that she couldn’t help it. She watched him as he approached. Once more, his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing a flash of the toned skin across his forearms. That flash left her mouth dry as he approached and sat in the chair nearest to her, leaning toward her.
“What is it?” he asked again, his voice soft and gentle.
“This.” She moved toward him with the letter, until she was practically kneeling between his legs. “Listen. ‘My dearest love, I write to you tonight, quite unable to sleep. Though for most of my life, I can accept the parting between us, and just know that it is our lot in life, tonight, it drives me mad.
To think of the last time we were together, what we shared, brought me such happiness. It is that happiness I do not want to be without in my life. I hope you know you will always be the person that can make me smile more than any other.’” She closed up the letter, peering up at William. “Is that not beautifully written?”
“It is,” he said slowly with a nod. “Was that part written by his lover?”
“Yes,” she murmured. She no longer denied the fact the two were lovers. This section, how it described what they had shared the last time they were together, certainly intimated there was more going on between the pair than just love letters.
“Now that is something I understand.” He gently took the letter from her, their fingers brushing together on the letter. As he did so, she shifted her hands and rested one on his thigh, aware of the heat between them once again. He looked at her before his eyes settled on the letter. “The happiness, the smiles, they are something I can understand all too well, being brought by another.”
“How do you mean?”
“Ah, Becca.” He sighed and looked at her. “Do you not know that is what you have brought for me since you have come into this house? In fact, from before that moment. When we met at that assembly, you were able to make me smile as I had not smiled that night. This feeling,” he paused and held up the letter between them, “I understand it perfectly.”
“Oh…”
“Oh?” He laughed. “Are you not the one between us who is the wordsmith?”
“Supposedly.” She laughed with him. “But I am afraid you have left me quite speechless, Will. Quite speechless indeed.”
She didn’t know how to tell him what she felt for him, that these words mattered to her more than anything else he had ever said to her, so she decided to show it through action alone. She raised herself up on her knees higher and caught his lips with hers, kissing him intently.
It started softly. The letter was cast aside between them, and he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her up toward him in order to deepen the kiss, then suddenly, it grew more heated.
His other hand found her hip, gripping in such a way that she knew they could explore one another again. She reached up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and encouraging him on. He drew her up higher, until she was in his lap, straddling him in the chair.
She drew her hips down onto his and could feel his hardened length up against her. That feeling made her want him all the more.
She was well aware that they kept exploring each other in such a way that they could, at some point, cross the line completely. When she wasn’t with him, it was easier to tell herself that she wouldn’t cross that line, but when she was with him, she couldn’t think of anything more amazing to share with him.
He picked her up suddenly, keeping their lips together as he carried her across the room. They collided with the wall; their fronts pressed together so she could feel the hardness of his muscles. He carried her with ease as if she weighed nothing, pressing his length against her as they kissed.
They both started panting, struggling to catch their breath as they explored one another. She was the first to start pulling at their clothes, desperate to feel more of him. She managed to remove his cravat and the waistcoat, then he put her down on her feet so he could help her remove the shirt that they tossed behind him.
“The staff?” she whispered between kisses.
“All far away in the staff quarters.”
“Your steward?”
“Gone to check on the tenants.”
