Page 12 of Lady Willa's Divinely Wicked Vicar
He cupped her face and drew away to sear her with the silver flames of desire in his eyes.
She was up on her toes. “Again. Again.”
He growled and bent, catching her up into his arms. He strode with her, she with her lips on his cheek, wanting, yearning for him to take away the ache in her loins. Oh, this was such wild heaven.
He put her to a chaise longue and followed her down. His long heavy body over her, he traced his fingers over her lips. “I want you.”
Of a sudden, raucous laughter burst over them as two people, shrieking and chortling, broke into the library. The two pattered inside and slammed the heavy doors behind them.
He put his lips to hers. “Do not move.”
She complied.
In the dim rays of light that pervaded this corner of the library, Wills could see the light in his eyes. Concerned. Careful. But he snaked his arm around her waist as the two of them stared at each other and listened to the couple who, by the sounds of it, were kissing and tickling each other.
“Oh! You rascal,” the woman whooped, “you mustn’t do that, sir.”
“But you want me and I want you,” the man replied in a rakish tone. “You’re lovely. And I must touch these…”
The lady cooed and moaned.
Wills arched her brows, as she envisioned whatthesemight be.
“Oh, yes,” the man continued in dark humor, “corsets are a nightmare and these are beautiful. Look at that! It points at me. Miss Miranda, I say! I must taste one.”
A rustling of clothes had the lady squealing.
Wills, flooded with wet desire, wiggled beneath her own gentleman. “He’s…”
Her own swain put a finger across her lips and nodded. “Yes.”
Wills arched up, her own breasts budding, rock hard.
“Wherearethey?” came a woman’s frantic cry from outside the room in the hall. “Where?Inhere?”
The doors banged open and bounced against the walls.
“Miranda!” A woman cried.
“Mama!”
“Your…your gown, my girl! Arrange yourself!”
“Yes, yes! Of course, Mama!”
Much rustling and shuffling filled the room.
“Stand up, child!”
“Yes, I am. I am, Mama.”
“Ralston, turn around, please. You, girl! To our rooms!”
Ralston was the Courtlands’ family butler. Willa knew the servant would do his duty discreetly. Even if he discovered her with the vicar. She was paralyzed with fear of it.
“But Mama—” Miranda appealed.
“Take her up, Ralston.”
