Page 110 of Miss Flibbertigibbet and the Barbarian
“It’s simple,” he ground out. His jaw seemed impossibly tight. His hands, which had fallen to either side, rose to clasp her hips, and he urged her up—just a little. “Ride me.”
She blinked, then followed his directions. She rose up, feeling the glide of his erection within her slick channel, then before she lost him from her body, she reversed direction and slowly slid down.
Oh my Lord.
With avid enthusiasm, she flung herself into mastering this new form. Into exploring and implementing whatever little tweaks incited the most pleasure for her and for him.
The flames that had earlier roared and gripped them had cooled a trifle, but now passion and greedy desire returned in full measure and combined with their surging hunger to whip them both on, into the beckoning conflagration of their senses.
The delirious delight of being completely in charge quite went to her head, and impulsive and reckless to the last, she flung her every passionate effort into the moment.
Breathless, close to mindless, balanced upon him, she drove them on. Eyes closed the better to absorb the delights of their joining, with her hair loose and whipping about her shoulders, with him, metaphorically hand in hand, she strove to reach the ineluctable end while, furnace-like, their bodies burned with need and with the overwhelming yearning to claim and be claimed.
The culmination was intense—more intense than she’d experienced before. She came apart, and she would have sworn her mind shattered into a million shards of impossibly brilliant and pure sensation.
Pleasure spiked, and ecstasy took her, and glory filled her veins.
Only her grip on his wrists kept her anchored to earth. The desperate clenching of his fingers on her hips as he drove into her melting body, the low groan that racked him as he reached his release, and the warmth of his seed flooding her womb completed her joy.
This was true intimacy.
Her heart swelled with happiness, gladness, and unadulterated joy. She’d found him, and with him, this was and forever would be within her reach.
Surely this was earthly glory; this was paradise on earth.
Love had claimed her and shown her the way, and now she’d found him, she would never, ever, let go.
As she sagged and slowly slumped forward, helped by the soothing stroking of his hands, she knew only thankfulness and gratefulness that she had finally found her true home.
Her lover. Her soulmate. Her place.
Nicholas gathered her to him and nuzzled a kiss to her temple.
She was exhausted, wrung out, and so was he. After that performance, he couldn’t summon the strength to rearrange their limbs, and luckily, with the summer night so warm, there was no urgent need to do so.
He could lie there and allow quiet triumph to fill him.
Could let the glow of success wash through him.
Getting them to this point had required a degree of finesse he hadn’t been sure he possessed, yet apparently, he’d found the right way, the right path. He’d eschewed pursuing her—an impulse that was so very much a part of him—and instead, allowed her to come to him in her own time.
He’d allowed her to make the running, and she’d obliged and brought them to this point.
To where fronting an altar lay in their immediate future.
From the first moment of meeting her, he’d known she was the one for him, and now that she’d freely chosen him as hers—hers for evermore—he was beyond convinced that nothing in life could possibly be more wonderful. No other moment would ever be so sublime. No other achievement would ever mean as much.
Equally, of course, nothing in his life would ever be the same, yet with her by his side, he welcomed that future, filled with impulsive uncertainty though it would surely be, with open arms and a ready heart.
CHAPTER17
The following morning, Nicholas rode beside Adriana, perched once more on Nickleby, as their small cavalcade rolled up the drive of Aisby Grange. Astride his chestnut, Dickie trotted on his sister’s other side, while Phillip and Viola followed in Phillip’s curricle.
Adriana had argued forcefully that Phillip needed to return to the Grange immediately—that very day—and bring Viola to meet the earl and countess as well, and no one had been in any position to disagree. There’d been an insistence to her fervor that suggested that, having gained the chance to steer Phillip and her father to a reconciliation, she was determined not to allow anything to get in the way of achieving her purpose. So powerful had been her persuasiveness that Phillip and Viola had surrendered, packed bags, and climbed into the curricle.
Behind the carriage came Rory and Young Gillies, the former leading The Barbarian. To everyone’s surprise, the huge stallion had behaved himself, more or less, since they’d retrieved him from the field outside Scriven. The grooms and stablemen had suggested that the surprise of losing Adriana from his back had sobered the beast.
Whatever the cause, they were all grateful for his compliance in returning peaceably to Aisby Grange.
