“An astute observation,” remarked Paul, wiping his face clear of the icy cold blast.
“Isn’t it lovely?” She all but danced out onto the steps, her arms wide, her face upturned. She’d always found snowfall to be entrancing, especially when she was a little girl. “I recall the first snowflakes…such excitement there was. So many happy memories.”
Heedless of the slick coating, she hurried down the front steps, while Paul closed the door and cautiously followed her. “Watch your step,” he called. “It’s slippery.”
And indeed it was. She lost her footing on the last step, skidded sideways, tripped and ended up with her bottom stuck in one of the small bushes edging the stairs.
Paul hurried down to extract her from the privet. “There now, I did warn you. Are you hurt?”
She laughed as he struggled to pull her free, and shook her head. “No, no, I’m quite uninjured. My dignity suffered a bit of a bump and I may have dented the bushes…” she retrieved her muffler and wound it around her neck. “That’ll teach me to over indulge in brandy.”
He held her steady as she brushed off the back of her cloak. “Your dignity looks quite presentable to me.”
“You’re too kind, Mr. DeVoreaux.”
“Call me Paul? I just fished you out of the shrubbery. We have shared the back of a wagon with Chillendale ale. I believe those two instances, as well as others, make us friends.”
Harriet caught the warmth in his gaze. “I’d like that, Paul. But only if you call me Harry.”
“Not Harriet?”
“Letitia calls me Harry. It was a good name for a maid. And now it feels as if it’s special, some sort of connection I’ve not enjoyed until now. So no, not Harriet. Harry.”
She was so sincere, so delightful as she turned her face to his and earnestly explained why a simple nickname meant so much to her, that Paul, already charmed by this young woman, completely forgot himself.
He whispered “…then Harry it shall be,” and kissed her.
*~~*~~*
When James’s mouth found her tender woman’s flesh, Letitia let out a surprised squawk. She was so close to screaming that her lungs heaved, but some sort of restraint held her back from the howl that hovered in her throat.
It was without doubt the most exquisite, surprising, unexpected and erotic moment of her entire life.
She’d read about such things, of course. But actually feeling it, sensing James’s tongue darting over and around and between places that had turned into a mass of glorious tingles…well it was beyond words.
My writing will never be the same.
The thought flashed through her mind as James’s teeth grazed a particularly arousing spot, and she found herself parting her legs even wider, a lascivious invitation to him to carry on doing exactly what he was doing.
His hands slid upward, cupping her buttocks, lifting her into the perfect position for his mouth. She felt the strength of his forearms beneath her thighs, an added strangeness that heightened her awareness of their nakedness.
She reached downward, letting her hands touch his hair, feel the strange hardness of his skull beneath the warm skin. He nuzzled, murmured sounds of pleasure, tongued her more hungrily—each a tiny advance into unknown waters.
She was as wet as the ocean already, but James didn’t seem to care, lapping at her folds with enthusiasm.
It was all so new, so…unexpected.
Every inch of her body seemed to come alive, the slightest brush of air brought a tiny shiver with it, and the feel of the sheets beneath her bare back reminded her that there was nothing between her and this world of sensuality to which James had brought her.
He was slowly but surely driving her upward, toward that crest she knew would take her over the edge and bring her moments of exquisitely breath-taking oblivion. The signs were all there and growing…the shorter breaths, the tightening of her muscles and the flood of sensation emanating from that tiny spot he’d been caressing so tenderly with his talented tongue.
She shuddered from it, from the onslaught of so many sensory shocks at one time. Her toes curled, her fingers scrabbled to hold on to the linens and her spine began to bow as he held her fast, refusing to let her move away from his mouth.
“Yes,” he hissed, a whisper against such sensitized flesh. She shivered again, her buttocks clenching within his grasp. “Come for me, Letitia.” He growled as he licked her hard, an upward stroke that hit beneath that magic place with a force that sent lightning darting through her body. Her breasts felt swollen and full, aching a little, and erotic awareness of her own body shattered through her like a massive wave breaking against a cliff.
“Let it happen,” said James, moving back and rising to kneel between her parted thighs. His fingers kept up the sensual massage and she knew she was powerless to resist.
“God,” she groaned, her head moving from side to side, her body writhing as darts of arousal shot through every muscle, every inch of her. She was riding a wave, lifting her higher, higher—and higher still…
