Page 180 of Historical Hotties
She cocked her head, looking at him rather strangely. “Yer father lives there alone? Why do ye not live there with him?”
He took his hand off her head and pulled her into his arms. It was one of the rare times when he did not have any armor on, a harsh barrier between him and her tender flesh. She was soft and warm and he snuggled against her, delighting in the feel of her.
“Because my father has many knights serving him, men whose families have served the Hartlepool Baronetcy for generations,” he told her. “I went to foster at a young age, following Ryton. Ryton did not want to serve my father; he wanted to be independent and not under the constant shadow of my father. I wanted the same, as did Lenox, which is how all three of us ended up at Prudhoe. When I return to Throston, it will be as Baron Hartlepool at the death of my father. The title was supposed to go to Ryton, but as of today, it is mine.”
His expression dampened at the thought. It had not truly occurred to him until he had said it. Carington could see the mood darkening and she hastened to prevent the fall. She knew the man must grieve for his brother but she did not want himtumbling back in the pit of despair when they had only just risen above it. The days to come would see other opportunities for grieving, but not tonight. Tonight belonged to them.
“Well,” she said decisively, toying with the collar of his tunic, “there will be plenty of time before ye assume yer duties as baron. I had no idea I married into such a noble family.”
He knew she was attempting to lighten the mood; he could tell by her manner. He gave her a lop-sided smile. “Not only will I hold an English baronetcy but a Scottish one as well, courtesy of my wife. I would assume your father has no male heirs?”
She shook her head. “Just me.” Then her eyes widened. “Ye will be commander of my da’s men; hundreds of them. Sweet Jesus, they’d just as soon leap over a cliff than take commands from an English knight.”
He smirked. “We shall see about that.”
Her brow furrowed as her head wagged back and forth. “The Clans are not easily won over, English.”
“I won you over, did I not?”
She stopped toying with his tunic and gave him a reluctant smile. “Ye mean ye bullied me into submission. Ye canna do that with every man on the border.”
His embrace suddenly turned into a big bear hug and he buried his face in the side of her neck, growling and snorting. She squealed with delight, laughing as he nibbled her ticklish neck.
“Bullied you, did I?” he growled at her again. “You hardly put up a fight.”
She giggled again, shrieking one last time when he gave a final nibbling assault and fell still. But she was wrapped up in his embrace, clutched tightly against his chest as they gazed at each other. There was a good deal of warmth and joy in their mutual expressions.
“I did not really bully you, did I?” he asked softly.
She reached up and put a finger to his lips, feeling the smooth warmth beneath her touch. “Nay,” she whispered, watching him kiss her finger. “Ye dinna bully me. Ye were a true gentleman always.”
His answer was to smile and dip his head low and lower still until he was hovering over her mouth. After a moment’s pause to drink in his fill of her lovely face, his mouth slanted hungrily over hers.
Carington submitted to the powerful kiss. He had kissed her before and she was quickly learning to crave the warmth and power that his lips infused upon her. She wound her arms around his neck, holding him fast as the strength of his kiss increased. Soon, he was suckling her lower lip, plunging his tongue gently into her mouth as she responded in kind. She mimicked the movement of his tongue, the gentle licking, the tasting. Her hands moved into his inky hair, holding his head fast against her. The lust, passion, was growing.
Creed could feel her delectable body arching against him, her aggressive little hands pulling his head down to her lips. He laid her back on the bed, one hand behind her head while his free hand went to work removing her new surcoat. He did not want to tear it but he was so eager to remove her from it that he ended up ripping a seam. He came away from her lips, apologizing profusely, but she simply laughed and sat up. Lifting her hair, she directed him to unhook the stays to the rear of the dress and untie the sash. He did so quickly and, in an instant, the blue surcoat with the birds on it ended up on the stool near the door.
Carington sat with her back to him in her shift, unmoving. She could feel his enormous body behind her, the heat radiating from it like a roaring blaze. She turned slightly when she felt him move and realized that he was removing his tunic. Her breathing began to quicken at the sight of his naked skin, tanned and smooth and glistening in the light of the candles. She could seehis left arm and part of his torso but not much else. As she gazed at him with her peripheral vision, he came up behind her and wrapped his big arms around her body.
His mouth went to her neck, suckling gently. Carington closed her eyes and collapsed against him as his mouth grew more insistent and his hands began to roam. One arm held her firmly around the waist as the other hand moved up her right arm, into her hair and back down onto her shoulder. He massaged her shoulder for a few moments as his mouth began to work across her jaw. He could feel her breathing growing strong and heavy beneath him and it fed his lust. His hand moved away from her shoulder and came up under her armpit, grasping her right breast from behind.
This time, Carington did not start. She accepted his hand on her breast, feeling the gentle caress and knowing very quickly that she liked it. A sigh of pleasure escaped her lips as his caress grew firmer, kneading her gently, acquainting her with the feel of his hand on intimate parts of her body. His other hand moved from her waist and gently cupped her left breast. With both hands overflowing with her delicious bosom, he pulled her back against him and his lips found hers.
Carington’s head was twisted back as his tongue delved deep into her mouth. He was squeezing her breasts gently, his fingers moving to play with her taut nipples. She heard soft gasps filling the air, hardly aware that they were her own. Suddenly, his hands moved to the bottom of her shift and in one clean motion lifted it over her head, leaving her only in her pantalets and hose. Pushing her back gently on the bed, the last two garments on her body came free and ended up on the floor with the shift.
On her back, Carington could only submit as he continued his tender onslaught. She was concentrating on his miraculous hands, unaware when he removed his breeches and boots and kicked them to the floor. There was such passion between themthat she was only aware of the heavy breathing as his naked body descended upon her. When she instinctively parted her legs so that his weight would not crush her, Creed’s desire moved to a higher level.
His hand was on her breast as he kissed her furiously. But he soon moved away from her mouth, blazing a trail with his mouth that ended up at her breasts. He took a peaked nipple in his mouth, suckling strongly as she writhed and bucked beneath him. Her movements were purely instinctive, a natural reaction to his body and actions, and it only served to fuel his fervor. He was trying to go slowly with her; God knows he was trying. But she was responding to him as if she knew what he wanted and it was driving him over the edge.
As one arm held her close, he continued to nurse at her delightful breasts. Carington’s hands were in his hair, harsh little pants coming from her lips. His free hand moved down her flat belly to the fluff of dark curls between her legs. He gently touched her thighs first, very close to the junction where her legs joined, but refrained from touching her most intimate place for the moment. He was attempting to make her comfortable with his touch before forging into virgin territory. But Carington’s body was heaving so much that his fingers ended up wedged between her legs when she shifted.
He stroked her wet folds, listening to her pant. It created a wild surge of hunger in him and he inserted his fingers into her before he realized he was doing it. She gasped loudly, instinctively bringing her knees up to accommodated him, and Creed had all he could handle. Returning his lips to her delicious mouth, he placed his enormous manhood at her threshold and carefully pushed his way into her. He felt her stiffen.
“Creed,” she breathed fearfully.
He kissed her hard, silencing he words. “Relax, honey,” he murmured. “I promise I will be gentle.”
She whimpered as he thrust into her, listening to a softly strangled cry when he withdrew and thrust again, pushing deep inside her. He held her tightly, his arms wrapped around her slender body as his hips did the work. She was so slick that in little time, he was seated to the hilt to the sounds of his own gasping.
