Page 152 of Snowbound Surrender
“That’s it,” he said, allowing her to take over. “You’ve got this.”
She nodded jerkily and he released her, leaving her slightly bereft as he walked away from her to round the table. He leaned over the side, his arms crossed as he concentrated on her.
She skirted around the table so he wasn’t in her line of sight, distracting her from her task at hand. She leaned over the red velvet, eyed the cue ball, and then connected with it square in the center, sending it toward its target and knocking the ball into its hole.
Hunter clapped his hands. “Well done!” he said, and Scarlett kept the chuckle from escaping her lips, not wantingto disappoint him, so proud he seemed by the effect of his instructions.
She smiled abstractly, wandering slowly over to his side of the table. She bent over it, feeling contact behind her as she did. He moved away, albeit rather slowly, one hand on the top of her back as he took a step from her.
She connected with the next ball, sinking it once more. Hunter blinked at her before narrowing his eyes. She simply smiled sweetly again, before knocking in the rest of her balls in quick succession.
“What in the…”
“I win,” she said matter-of-factly as she replaced her cue stick. “I hope you are hungry for Cook’s pudding.”
“You tricked me!” he exclaimed, astonishment now covering his face.
“I did nothing of the sort,” she said, shrugging a shoulder. “I never claimed any skill or lack thereof. You assumed what you wanted to.”
“Good grief,” he said, grimacing as he walked over to the sideboard. He took a big spoonful of the pudding, closing his eyes before sticking it into his mouth. He washed it down with a swig of brandy.
“Here,” said Scarlett, laughing at him, “Allow me.” She scooped up another hearty morsel, stood on her tiptoes, and set the spoon in his mouth. She had to give him credit, for he was taking this quite well. After his third bite, however, she took pity on him.
“Close your eyes,” she commanded, and he obeyed. This time she picked up a piece of gingerbread, and when he opened his mouth obligingly, she slipped in a leg from the cookie creature.
“Mmm,” he murmured, opening his eyes and looking down at her. “What did I do to deserve that?”
“I figured you needed something sweet,” she said, and when she caught his gaze, her mirth faded, to be replaced by a flood of awareness.
“One more?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Very well,” she said, lifting the other leg of the gingerbread to his lips. He opened to her, but when she placed it in his mouth, his lips came around not only the cookie but her fingers as well. His tongue licked her index finger, and she gasped as a wave of heat shot from her hand to her very center. She had never felt anything like it, and God help her, she wanted to feel it again. He took her left hand in his, his fingers twining around hers.
Straightening, his hands came to her hips, and Scarlett, spellbound, went along with the current that pulled her into him, and when her body made contact with his, he lifted her up, placing her bottom on the velvet top. Her legs widened, and he stepped in between them, allowing her to feel him up against her. And oh, it felt good. He leaned in, his hand coming to the back of her head, his lips meeting hers in a dance she eagerly welcomed.
Their kiss had been brewing since the moment she walked down the stairs earlier this evening, and Scarlett was now both satisfied and desperate for more in equal parts. She drank in his taste, of brandy and gingerbread, as one hand came to the left side of his whiskered jaw, the other twining into the curls of his hair. They were as silky and as luscious as she had imagined, and she was grateful he didn’t cut it in the latest fashion.
Don’t do this, Scarlett. Don’t give away your body and with it, your heart.
The thought flew into her mind, but as Hunter’s lips slanted over hers again and again, his tongue tangling with hers, the words were pushed aside just as quickly, to be replaced by aneed unlike anything she had ever felt before. He broke away, only to desperately whisper, “I think, my wife, it is time for bed.”
Hunter picked her up as though she weighed nothing, one arm coming beneath her knees, the other around her back. He angled her through the door of the billiards room, skirting around the small statues and delicate furniture of Stone Hall, before striding up the stairs, while his ancestors watched on. Scarlett looked around at their portraits, wondering if that was approval in their eyes. She shook her head to relieve herself of her fanciful notions, tightening her arms around Hunter’s neck. She had never seen a man so determined. When they came upon a startled housemaid in the upstairs corridor, Hunter ignored her gasp as he continued on his way. He turned the corner, finally coming to his own bedroom. He pushed the door open with his boot, and Scarlett’s face flushed when she saw Spicer was inside, laying out his master’s bedclothes.
“Out,” was all Hunter said, and Scarlett attempted a smile of apology, though one didn’t seem to be needed. Despite his attempts at smothering it, Spicer wore a grin at the sight of Scarlett in his lord’s arms. He hurriedly scurried out of the room, likely to tell the rest of the staff, Scarlett thought, but at this point, she didn’t care any longer.
Hunter tossed her on the bed, the cover a deep navy to match the curtains, which had been pulled over the windows, but for one through which Scarlett could see the very top of a snow-covered pine. The air between them now was so tense that when a log cracked in the fireplace, Scarlett nearly jumped off the bed. She was always one up for adventure, but this was something else entirely.
For whether she was sending her horse into a gallop across a grassy field, or plunging into one of London’s most undesirable neighborhoods to give out baskets to mothers in need,shewasin control. And tonight, she had completely given up every vestige of it to Hunter. Her husband.
As she looked on, he shed his jacket before unpinning his cravat, sending it flying through the air with a tug. Next, he removed his waistcoat, then moved his fingers to the top buttons of his shirt. Scarlett could watch no longer, however, as the power of her instincts overcame all else. She shifted to her knees, bringing herself to the edge of the bed and drawing Hunter toward her. As he stood looking down at her, she began to undo the buttons herself, clumsily at first until she began to understand the way of it.
She could feel the intensity of Hunter’s stare as he watched her, and by the time she unfastened his final button, his patience apparently evaporated. He ripped the shirt over his head, before coming down upon her like a ferocious animal attacking its prey.
His lips descended on hers, hungrily tasting, demanding, telling her that he needed something more — as did she in equal measure.
“You,” he said between kisses, “are wearing entirely too much clothing.”
Not breaking their contact, he undid the buttons of the back of her gown much more deftly than she had his, before pushing down the green folds of the dress until her bosom was exposed. While he seemed insistent on undressing her, he was momentarily distracted by her breasts, and he showed her just how much he enjoyed them as he brought his mouth to one, circling the bud of her nipple with his tongue.
