Page 48 of Lord Carlisle's Enticing Lure
“Do you, my darling?” He crushed her near. “I am so very glad to hear that. I want you with me always.”
She shook back her hair and gazed up at him. “You are too kind. I am no woman to match the valiant promise of you.”
*
“I say youare more than that.”
He growled and seized her lips in a kiss so hard, so deep, so fierce, she had no breath, no will but to claim more. She ran her fingers up through the soft hair over his ear, her other hand clutching his open shirt collar.
He broke away, catching air and considering the wall behind her. For a moment, she thought he’d stop.
But no. He cradled her head in his palms and, with some inscrutable words, took her mouth again.
This kiss was tender. The next wild.
She whimpered at the beauty of his claiming.
He crushed her closer, picking her up off her feet to match her frame to his torso.
With a shake of his head, he bent, then caught her up in his arms and strode like a conqueror to her bed.
He laid her down as if she were light as air and climbed over her. Up on his elbows, he hovered above. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
How rare to find a man so considerate that he would offer to leave her. She cupped his cheeks. “I cannot. Tonight, I live for this. For you.”
“For you,” he murmured as if he said a prayer.
With one kiss of hard agreement, he rose on his knees and stripped his shirt over his head. In the flickering flames of the great room candles, she noted the breadth of his shoulders, the bulging muscles of his arms, the sharp ridges of his ribs. She traced them, drawing him in her heated mind. One day, she would paint him, sketch him, dashing man that he was. But tonight, she would love him as he deserved to be.
Her fingers slid to the buttons of his flies. She undid one, and he shot up and away, peeling off everything, even his boots, and pulling her to a sitting position.
Done in a second with her negligee and silly muslin gown, she lay naked before him. He ran his open palm from the hollow beneath her chin to her throat, her cleavage, and the point of one hard nipple and the other.
He swallowed so hard that she heard him as he returned to loom above her. She did the same to him as he had her and learned the contours of his shoulders, chest, and hips with her fingertips.
“Come to me,” she whispered, arching her hips to his in invitation. “I need you. I have for all my life.”
He gasped, his eyes at once full of tears. He dropped his head to catch her nipple in his mouth and suck her hard.
She bucked and dug her nails into his back.
He captured her other nipple and licked her until she keened. This, from him, was what love was like in heaven. Never had she had such on earth. And so she rose, one arm flung around his neck, one hand open, stroking the lean arc of his loins to his erect penis. There she wrapped her hand around him. Her hand was small compared to the enormous size of him, and she stroked him as if in compensation. He groaned and seated himself so that he ran his long member along her cleft. His fingers followed, and he opened her folds to murmur, “How wet and warm you are.”
She shifted, and he dropped inside her, filling her with all of hisflesh and devotion.
There he simply held.
“You are,” he said, “so soft, so strong. Let me make you mine.”
She gave a laugh that was half sob. “Do. Please.”
At that, he slid his hands under her, one at her lower back, one at her hips. Then, with slow ardor she had known all too briefly weeks ago, he opened for her his gift of ecstasy that only love conveyed.
Nor was it done in a moment, but long, hot minutes of sensation, and at the end, hot, pounding release that shook her and took her far from the night, the bed, and left her with her arms full of him and a joy she’d never conceived that might be hers.
Chapter Seventeen
“Iwill missyour excellent cooking,” Clive said as he settled across from her on his seat and the coach ground forward.
