Page 39 of Lord Ramsey's Red-Headed Ruin
“Oh,” she sighed, paused, and marveled at his naked chest. With a faint hum in the back of her throat, she splayed her fingers over the rise of his pectorals. Her touch seared him. Her admiration spurred him to bite his lip and give breathless laughs.
“If you take too long at this,” he bit out through tight restraint, “we’ll be in Sedan for lunch before we get to dine.”
“Oh.” She giggled, her eyes that of a mischievous cat’s. “Never fear, dear sir. I know there is much here to savor.”
He caught one of her hands and put it flat to his erection. “You have no idea how much more.” With a few flicks of his fingers, he undid his flies.
She opened them wide and withdrew his already turgid, pleading cock. Her gaze to his very erect penis, she stroked her thumb over the tip. “I mean, really, darling. How do we know if we are compatible, eh? After all, you and I have had only two goes at it.”
“Three.”
“Hmmm. Was it?”
“Definitely. Three. We could not tarry this morning. We had to leave, you little tease.” He remembered the scene at breakfast when she made eyes at him. He had forgotten his hunger for food and wished only to throw up her skirts and have her, wanton and willing, on the broad oak table.
“I wanted you at breakfast,” she confided, kissing his cheek, rubbing him to distraction. “Actually before…”
“Definitely during,” he added as she began a rhythm she accompanied with panting breaths, leading him to ponder how to maneuver her here on these short, uncomfortable seats. “We will be destroying both our backs…”
She widened her eyes at him. “I like a challenge.”
Hell.What she did to him… Her eyes danced as she squeezed him, full and aching to fuck her as he was.
He rushed to match her in artless indulgence. “Rickety conveyances offer a few challenges. Even for a dexterous man,” he said as he pushed up her skirts and stroked her satin thigh, minus the white hose he’d torn in their frolic last night, “it is difficult.”
“But, my dear fellow, I am not only willing”—she climbed upon him, her knees to either side of his thighs—“I am a dexterous woman.”
She sank over him, and he found her succulent center and slid home.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his breath harsh and fast as she twisted herself lower on his shaft.
“Darling man,” she cooed when she had descended as she could, “you won’t.”
“But this,” he said with a laugh as he caught the straps and the coach tipped as it took a sharp curve in the road, “is not our nice, wide bed.”
“All the better here, then.”
“I like the way you think.” He took her lower lip between his teeth and nipped her. She was a scandal. She was his personal, private, beloved scandal.
“Now,” she murmured with wide eyes, “perfection requires at least…ten times.”
“After which, we will not count.”
“Nor walk.”
They laughed as he caught her little chip hat that bobbed on her red curls. He lifted two pins out and threw her chapeau to the other seat. Greedy for all of her, he pulled her closer. “Our journey to Sedan, my darling, will be a luscious memory!”
He was lost to her. His head back against the old, soft leather upholstery, he surrendered to her seduction and gave her all he had.
She did not disappoint a starving man. He took in how she savored this: her head thrown back, her mouth open—unmoving, transfixed, she melted over him.
His darling. His woman.
This was where he longed to be. And where he belonged.
She let her head fall to his chest. “Oh, Ramsey. You are so wonderful.”
So simple a word did not convey all he was. Randy. Enthralled. He was all of those.
