Page 63 of The Vagabond Viscount
“Flynn,” she pleaded.
In their previous stolen liaisons, this had usually been the signal for him to slip his thumb into her wet heat and bring Augusta to a crashing climax. Tonight, however, when she spoke Flynn’s name, it was her spoken consent for him to take things that one step further. For them to finally become one.
He sat back on his haunches and glanced up at her. Augusta was sure that she had made her position plain, but the look on his face was still one of uncertainty.
Such a noble man. I think I might be unworthy of you.
She would spend the rest of her life trying to be everything to him. Augusta nodded. “Yes.”
Flynn got to his feet and, taking her hands in his, met her eyes. “I vow to be yours from this night on. Till death do us part. I love you, Augusta Kembal.”
“I love you, Flynn Cadnam, and very soon I intend to be your wife.” She reached for his cravat and slipped it free. His shirt came next. Her fingers went for the buttons on the folds of his trousers, but Flynn took hold of her wrist, bringing the motion to a halt.
“How about you go and make yourself comfortable on our bed,” he suggested.
Our bed. She had never shared a bed with anyone else before. The thought of being naked with this man and in his arms had her swallowing deeply.
His gaze dropped to her boots, and a chuckle escaped his lips. “Though you may want to take those off.”
Augusta laughed. “I’d forgotten about them.”
Being this close to him always tended to muddle her brain. She hadn’t the slightest idea how she was going to manage him once they were married. Spending a good deal of time in the bedroom was the only thing which made any sort of sense.
I can’t wait.
While Flynn rid himself of the vestiges of his clothes, Augusta set about unlacing her boots. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught him hiding his own badly worn footwear under his shirt. She turned her head. He was embarrassed about the state of his dress, but still too proud to say anything.
She climbed onto the bed. It wasn’t much of a bed—more a narrow cot. The thought of how they were going to fit on it crossed her mind. Then she remembered her mother’s talk. How the birds and bees worked. The one the duchess had apparently given to every one of her daughters on the day when their courses first arrived.
Man on top is the traditional way.
From overhead conversations in the garden between her brothers, she knew there were other ways. But knowing Flynn, he would stick to convention. At least for their first time.
He crossed the floor to the bed, slowly shaking his head. “What are you thinking about, my love? I ask because you have your thinking line showing deep between your eyes.”
“Nothing and everything,” she murmured. Her gaze was fixed on his naked form. On the outline of his waist. She had seen him partly naked before, so the novelty of his hard, erect manhood pointing at her was less than if it had been the first time.
What did capture and hold her attention, however, were the scars. The red, angry scars which slashed across his chest. Augusta sucked in a deep breath. Anger and a sense of profound sadness tore at her. “Oh, Flynn, what did they do to you?” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.
He glanced at his chest, then back to her. “I am here, and I am alive.” He bent and kissed her. Soft. Tender. Then deeper, hungrier. As their lips joined, tongues tangling, she forced away all the thoughts which threatened to scramble her mind, giving herself up to Flynn’s loving embrace. His kiss carried a silent message. He didn’t want to talk about the past—he just wanted to forge their future. Tonight.
Augusta shuffled over into the middle of the bed and lay down. Flynn climbed on and straddled her. She couldn’t ignore his erection any longer. It was long, large, and much bigger than she remembered.
Then again, she hadn’t ever seen it fully in the light. They had always met in darkened rooms, gardens, and on the odd occasion, a dimly lit orangery.
The firm flesh of his manhood sat heavy on her belly, all but begging her to touch it. Augusta wrapped her fingers around the long length and began to stroke. “I have missed you, Flynn, but I have also missed being friends with this,” she purred.
Flynn gave a dirty chuckle in response to her sultry tease. “He has missed you too. The poor chap has suffered without any real attention for far too long.” He paused, and she sensed his hesitation. This was a moment from which there could be no return.
“Come to me, my love. Claim what I have longed to give you.”
He gave a nod of acceptance, and Augusta shifted, making room for Flynn between her legs. Her intention was clear. She released her hold on his erection and lay back as he positioned the head of his cock at her entrance, and he slowly pushed in.
As their gazes met, she reveled in the desire which shone brightly in his eyes. They were together in the moment, now and forever.
“I hope this won’t hurt—”
Augusta silenced Flynn’s statement with her lips. She didn’t want to hear any words of reassurance or regret.
