Page 41 of Wicked Rivals
With an arrogant grin, he tossed his hair out of his eyes. “A kiss if I win.”
“And if I win?” She arched a brow.
“You don’t want to kiss me?” he teased, wriggling his eyebrows.
Rosalind’s eyes narrowed at such a transparent ploy. “I do not think so. If I win, you must apologize to me for the last few days.”
He sobered. “I’m willing to do that now.”
His sincerity shocked her, but she was hardly going to make it easy for him. “Then perhaps I’ll only require you to apologize on your knees if you lose, instead of on your belly.” She stroked Milady’s neck.
Ashton studied her, and then with a wicked gleam in his eyes, he kicked his horse and shot off across the field.
“Why, you cheating cur!” she hollered and slapped the loose ends of the reins against her horse’s flanks, jolting Milady into a gallop. The gold grass of the field rippled in a breeze as she and Milady raced after the speeding gelding.
She was laughing as she started to gain on Ashton. He did not look back until they were a few feet from being neck and neck. He leaned down over his horse and started to stretch Prince’s stride, regaining his lead.
“No!” She kicked her horse harder, but it was no use. The gelding had more speed.
Ashton raced across the small dirt road where a crumbling burned ruin of a house stood. In an effortless move, he slid off his horse and caught her reins as she pulled back to stop Milady.
“You…” she panted. “Cheated.”
“Not true. I allowed you to catch up, after all. But I had a faster horse. I admit that readily.”
“Oh!” She leapt off her horse to tackle him. He caught her, and she slammed her balled fists against his chest.
“Easy, my little hellion, let me have my kiss…”
“If you think I’ll honor a wager that you—”
Her dozens of planned curses were silenced by Ashton’s lips. He captured her wrists, holding them behind her back with one of his hands. She struggled a moment, but only a moment. Being held prisoner in his arms sent a wild thrill through her. Her skin burned as his lips plundered hers. It was easy to lose herself in this man’s kiss. He nipped her bottom lip and she gasped, strangely flushed with primal heat at the sting of his bite. She struggled in his hold again, but he only laughed huskily.
“Steady on, darling. This is not something you are in control of. Not this time.”
She relented and let him take over. Hidden in his words was a promise of a next time in whichshewould be in control.
Ashton kissed like a dream. She’d never taken lovers after Henry died, and yet she knew if she’d had them to compare to this, this baron would still come out on top. It was the way he kissed, as if he had all day to explore her. There was not a hint of haste. Just slow, deliberate passion, potent and drugging. She fell harder against his chest. Suddenly her hands were free and she curled her arms around his neck, dragging him closer to her.
“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered in her ear before he kissed a path from her ear to her throat.
The feel of his lips, hot and soft on her sensitive skin, sent shivers rippling through her.
“Stop?” she echoed through the rising haze of hunger.
“Yes,” he answered with a throaty chuckle. “Shall I keep kissing you or not?”
“Keep…” She dug her hands into the long strands of his hair. “Kissing me.”
Rosalind gasped as they toppled to the ground. She fell on a sea of gilded grass, with Ashton on top of her. She instinctively tried to part her thighs, but her skirts were in the way.
“My skirts.” She moaned as he kissed her collarbone and nuzzled the swell of her breasts.
“Right.” He dug at her thick skirts and petticoats, pushing them up to her thighs. She threw her head back as his palms slid up her legs and between her underpinnings. He stroked her with a fingertip before slipping it inside her. She jolted and clutched his shoulders.
The blue sky above her seemed to stretch on forever as she stared at the cloudless expanse. Ashton rose above her, blocking out the sun as he continued to slide his finger in and out of her. The invasion was gentle but insistent, and she trembled at the building tension. Only he had ever made her feel so wild and reckless, as though all her worries and fears had faded when he touched her.
“You belong to me, Rosalind. Do you understand?” He moved his hand faster and his thumb found the sensitive bud on her mound that made her cry out sharply when he pressed on it.
