Page 84 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
He kissed her, melding their lips together and tasting her tongue with his own. The heat between them was so strong that he could feel sweat beading down the center of his chest, though she hardly seemed to mind. She kept running her hands over him, exploring him as much as she could.
Carefully, he braced his hands against the chaise longue, hooking her knees so they were above his elbows and her body was open to him, then he nudged his length toward her.
They stared at one another, neither of them breaking the connection of their gazes as he just rocked their bodies together for a moment, teasing the pair of them with the sensation of being so close, but not quite having the acquisition of one another, just yet.
“I love you,” he mouthed to her.
“I love you, too,” she whispered as her hands gripped the head of the chaise longue behind her.
He entered her swiftly. In awe of the expression on her face and the way her body felt around his length, he moved fast. William had wanted this for so long, dreamed of it that much, he moved faster than he had ever done before with her. Their rhythm excited them both so much, they could hardly occupy one position, but moved between positions fast.
Soon, he shifted his arms and moved back fully onto his knees, holding her legs open wide so he could watch their bodies coming together and their connection. She reached up toward him, and he went to her embrace, then rolling the two of them together with some difficulty on the chaise longue.
They ended up with Becca sitting up, straddling him, as he laid down flat. She rocked her hips against his experimentally, gripping the head of the chaise longue behind him, then she raised herself up and sank down again.
It was a new kind of pleasure for him, one so strong that he was sure he would meet his end within minutes. His hands explored her, moving from where he gripped the skirt of her gown, holding it high, to reaching for her hips and waist, splaying his fingers across her bare skin.
She increased her pace, soon moving so fast that her cheeks were nearly as red as her dress. Lost in the pleasure of watching her, William thought how right it was they had met in the way they had done. Now, she knew every part of him, all his secrets, all the darkness from the past, and yet she loved him still. One of her hands trailed down his chest, and with that touch, he lost himself.
“Becca, I…” He tried to warn her of what was coming, but she reached her own pinnacle of pleasure first. She bucked against him, then tipped her head back, such a moan of excitement escaping her that it was the final straw for him.
He finished, and this time, there was no way he could pull out. He remained inside of her, the feeling of finishing with her so overwhelming that he gripped her hips hard, keeping her near. As she panted, coming down from her high, her eyes met his.
“I…”
“I know,” she whispered, and then to his surprise, she smiled. “We might have just made…”
“We might.” He smiled, too, and lifted his head up toward her, capturing her lips with his own. “Do you mind?”
“I don’t mind. Can’t you tell how happy I am?” she said with a giggle. “Is it true, though, William? You truly want to marry me?”
“I do, with all my heart.” His hands drifted down her hips to her thighs, and the way she shuddered at his touch made his length twitch inside of her again. She seemed to have this effect on him, constantly able to make him rise to the occasion. “We might have to hurry the wedding now, though,” he said, nodding at her stomach.
She raised her hand and cupped her mouth, giggling into her palm.
“Come here,” he whispered and pulled her down into an embrace, their bodies still connected. “I know we will have to go downstairs soon, but I have no wish to let you go just yet.”
It turned out they stayed there for a lot longer than even he had first anticipated. They had remained connected, lying on their sides on the chaise longue before all of her teasing touches had made him hard again. When he rocked his hips into her, he was amazed to find her ready, too. They were glistening so much with heat and sweat by the time they were done, they had to take some minutes to clean themselves up before they headed downstairs.
“Perhaps this ball should be something more than a celebration of our book,” he said as they hovered by the ballroom door, preparing to enter, in the hope no one noticed them entering without a chaperone. “Perhaps we should announce our betrothal instead. What do you say?” As he offered his hand to Becca, she placed her hand in his.
Epilogue
One Month Later
“Well? Is everyone there?” Becca hurried to straighten the creases of her gown as she stared at the chapel door.
“Will you stop fidgetin’?” Charlotte asked from behind her. “You’ll ruin your modiste’s new gown. What’s it like havin’ a gown this nice made for you, by the way?” She giggled and brushed back the loose locks of her auburn hair.
“I swear I shall wake from this dream,” Becca confessed, prompting her maid of honor to giggle again. She looked down at the white gown she wore. Trimmed with delicate lace, it was very beautiful, though she had also insisted on some modesty in the gown.
When she and Charlotte had first walked into the modiste’s shop in Covent Garden, the modiste had not been overly welcoming, until Charlotte promptly explained they were there to order Becca’s new wedding gown. She also might have thrust forward in conversation that the groom was Baron Lancaster and the heir to the Earl of Longfellow.
From that moment on, the modiste could not have been more helpful and pushed rather grand gowns on Becca to try out, butin the end, Becca had insisted on some simplicity. The gown bore lace across the hem and around the empire line of the bust, but that was it.
The skirt dropped gently in white silk to the floor. To complement the gown, her hair had been arranged in an updo with similar white lace, and the bouquet she carried was trimmed in the same way.
“Well, Father?” she called again, returning to her earlier question. “Is everyone there and ready?”
