Page 86 of The Earl Takes All
Without any doubt, she knew she was being reckless, but he seemed to call out that aspect of her. She’d spent her entire life striving to be the good daughter, the good cousin, the good wife. She regretted not a single moment of it, yet with him she felt no need to judge her actions before she acted. She experienced a certain independence that had never characterized her behavior before. Originally she’d credited it to changes within her while her husband was away, but she realized now it had more to do with Edward taking on a significant role in her life—even before she realized he was Edward.
She heard the pounding of his horse’s hooves and urged her own into a faster gallop. She felt young, happy, unburdened. For the first time in weeks, sorrow was not dogging her heels.
His horse’s labored breathing sounding so very close signaled that he was catching up, but she was almost there. Just a bit farther. Then she crested the rise, drew her mare up short, spun around. Her laughter echoed through the copse of trees, up to the heavens and over the land surrounding her.
He was grinning broadly as he brought his own beast to a stop. “Well done.”
“I can’t remember the last time I rode with such abandon.”
“We need to give the horses a rest.” He dismounted, walked over to her and held up his arms.
His nearness still caused a fluttering in her belly, but her triumph overrode the sensations. She’d controlled her horse; she could control him. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she broke away from him and, with a teasing giggle, dashed over to a nearby tree. His deep laughter floated toward her, and she heard the thud of his footfalls.
Whirling around, she pressed her back to the tree. “No touching, no kissing,” she ordered, knowing that with the barest of caresses she would find herself ceding control over to him.
Before she was even aware of his intent, he was leaning in, his forearms raised and resting against the bark, his head bent, his cheek nearly but not quite touching hers. “Not touching,” he rasped, his raw voice sending a shiver of desire through her.
“But if I were allowed to touch you,” he said on a seductive whisper, “I would begin with your gloves, slowly unbuttoning them before peeling them off, one at a time, stuffing them in the pocket of my jacket. I would press a kiss to the knuckles of your left hand, the palm of your right.”
Her eyes fluttered closed as she imagined the heat of his mouth coating her skin in dew.
“Then I would free two buttons of your bodice—only two—just enough so I could dip my tongue into the hollow at your throat.”
Her breath grew shallow, heat surged through her.
“I would lap at your skin, three times, four, before trailing my lips up to the underside of your jaw. I would inhale the rose fragrance tucked away behind your ear, and skim my mouth over your neck, from one side to the other and back to center.”
“Edward—”
“Shh, I’m not done yet.”
But she nearly was. She didn’t know how she continued to stand when her legs had become unsteady.
“Two more buttons I would loosen; nay, three. I would slip one finger between the parted cloth and glide it slowly, lightly, provocatively over the swells of your breasts, aware of your sharp intake of breath as you lifted them higher, yearning for a surer caress, one that encompassed the whole of my hand reaching inside your corset, your chemise, to cup your entire breast—”
“Oh, my Lord,” she breathed out on a whisper.
“—my thumb and forefinger pinching the tight little bud of your nipple as it puckered for me.”
She swallowed hard. She’d thought she was in control, but he had easily reversed their roles until she was little more than his puppet. Dampness formed between her thighs. Her nipples were not the only buds reaching for him, desperate for the pressure of his hand stirring sensations to life, eclipsing the fantasy with reality.
“If I had leave to touch you—”
“Don’t,” she pleaded in a raw voice that sounded as though it belonged to another woman.
“If I had leave to touch you, I would go to my knees and lift your skirt high, exposing the pink heart of your womanhood. I know it’s glistening with dampness at this very moment. Even without being able to touch you, I can feel the heat of passion radiating from you. I suspect your breasts are straining against the cloth, desperate for the caress you’re denying them. You’re throbbing between your thighs. My tongue could offer surcease, with just the right amount of pressure I could have you screaming.”
Her eyes flew open. “You’re the very devil.”
He laughed darkly. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You know you’re not, damn you.”
“I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you. You torment me. It’s only fair that I torment you.”
“And once you’ve had me?”
“I’ll want you again.”
