She was being coiled tighter and tighter, like a spring wound too tight. She couldn’t stand more tension without breaking apart. So much pent-up energy... she snapped. Something inside her burst like a summer storm over parched land. She wasconvulsing, tossed around by a force she could not command. It would have been scary but for his arms, securing her to him. Holding her safe and warm until the crisis had passed. Until she found herself floating in a cloud of bliss while aftershocks still coursed through her body.
“Oh, Hannah. You are so lovely in your ecstasy. Will you take me in? I need you so much...”
How could she deny his desperate plea when he had given her such transcendent bliss? It had not come easily for him. She noted the beads of sweat at his temples, his tense, flushed face. She reached for his lap, having to dig her way through a mountain of fabric, until she found the buttons that closed his trousers. With frantic, clumsy movements, she tore at his fly. Impatient, as desperate as he to have him inside her despite having just enjoyed a spectacular release. Perhaps because of it. Now her flesh clamored for the fullness of him.
At last, his member sprang free, hard and hot and oh so heavy. She leveraged herself on her knees to position him at her entrance and then sank down with a guttural moan. Her flesh gave in, surrounding him, tightening around his unyielding invasion all on its own. The need to remain quiet strangled his groan of pleasure.
“So wet, so hot, so fucking tight.” His words were a curse uttered in adoring tones. “You’ll be the death of me. The feel of you... I can’t even... yes. Ride me. Take your pleasure from me.”
So wet...a memory sprang unbidden to the forefront of her mind. Back in her folly, when she had tried to make it impersonal and quick by applying oils. He had promised that when he was done with her, she wouldn’t need oils. That she would be dripping wet for him. And she was, God help her. He had more than made good on his promise.
Was it only a mere few weeks ago that she thought she could remain impervious while he made love to her? How naïve. Howunutterably foolish of her to think intimacy with him could ever be impersonal. He had been destroying her defenses from the start. Touching her heart with the same exquisite tenderness he touched her body. Now she couldn’t even remember a time when she didn’t crave him.
She gasped, holding on to his shoulders for balance when the train tilted as it navigated a bend. An infinitesimally small degree, she was sure. But with his member inside her, every movement became magnified. The rocking motion spread shivers all along her spine, radiating from the point where they connected, demanding more.
She experimented. Bouncing up and down a bit. Adjusting. His hands caught her hips under her petticoats and guided her in a back-and-forth motion.
“Oh.”
How surprising. This way, his body ground against her sensitive flesh, making the pleasure more intense. His eyes held a wicked light. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. Reveled in it.
But it wasn’t enough. She was climbing again to that place of unadulterated bliss. She could glimpse it, but it remained maddeningly out of reach. Just when she was getting frustrated, he braced a foot on the facing seat, changing the angle of penetration. It did something to her. Hit a spot.
“That’s it, my love. It’s coming. Don’t fight for it. Let me bring it to you.”
She knew he would. His fingers brushed against her nub, and she exploded. Again. Falling apart. Destroyed by the pleasure that only he could bring forth. Throughout the cataclysm, she had just enough consciousness to notice his grimace, the tightening of his body, the spasms of his member inside her as liquid warmth flooded her.
She collapsed against him. Boneless, spent, and happier than she could ever remember being. His strong arms held her tight, his member still inside her. She was in no hurry to disengage, and neither was he. His mouth skated along her temple, creating a constellation of kisses.
Well, she would never in her life be able to take a train again without remembering this ride.
CHAPTER 31
THEY DESCENDED FROMthe train at Wareham at half past noon. The coach he had arranged was waiting for them, ready to bring them the rest of the way to Ludlow Cove.
The first sight of The Marlowe confirmed that the cozy seaside inn was everything he had hoped for and more. Nestled against the rugged cliffs that bracketed the beach, at the end of Lulworth Cove high street, the inn, with its half-timbered facade, whitewashed walls, and intricate black beams, oozed charm and rustic elegance. Perfect for an idyllic tryst.
A hearty, middle-aged man spilled out of the inn’s heavy oak door to greet them.
“Mr. Sinclair?” he called to Gabriel. “We have been expecting you and your wife. I’m Mr. Marlowe, the innkeeper. Come in, come into the warmth. My boys will take care of your luggage.”
Gabriel helped Hannah to descend from the coach and led her down the flagstone path to the inn’s entrance. He ignored her questioning glance at the name the innkeeper had called him, and also their marital status. They had not discussed it, but it was obvious they would have to travel as husband and wife. No decent establishment would have them otherwise.
Ushered by the enthusiastic innkeeper, they entered a reception room with low ceilings adorned with rough-hewn wooden beams and a roaring hearth at the heart of the main hall. The room would have felt dark and heavy, but a row of leaded windows framed by diamond-shaped panes faced the sea andfiltered sunlight into the cozy interior, casting warm, dappled patterns across the polished wood floor.
A plump, rosy-cheeked woman came out of a back room to greet them with a wide smile. Mr. Marlowe introduced her as his wife, and before Gabriel could introduce themselves, she launched into an enthusiastic greeting.
“Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair! A pleasure to meet you. It is an honor that you have chosen our humble inn to spend your honeymoon. We will do all in our power to make your time here unforgettable,” she said with a knowing smile that had Hannah blushing.
She threw him another questioning gaze, and he grinned in response.
“We are delighted to be here, Mrs. Marlowe,” he replied with a charming smile.
“But come, come. You must be tired after all that traveling. Let me lead you to your rooms.”
She turned and put a hand over her mouth before announcing in a theatrical whisper, “We have assigned you the very best room in the inn. It has a wonderful view of the sea, and it’s at the end of the corridor, for privacy,” she added with a saucy wink.
Hannah was in danger of self-combusting with her blushes, but he was having great fun with Mrs. Marlowe’s frank conversation.
