* * *
Piper stared at Connor, stupefied by the question. Marriage had become an evil word to her after what had happened. The institution equally vile. Thinking about it now in the terms Connor presented, it became something of a revelation.
Her mother couldn’t coerce her into marriage if she were already wed. More importantly, she’d be free of Rutledge forever. All the darkness and woe set behind her in favor of a brighter future.
Married.
Safelymarried.
Piper slipped from his embrace and absently considered the food on the table, choosing a scon. Taking a nibble, she thought about it. Why hadn’t she considered it before?She’d passed the age of consent according to British law. She couldn’t inherit yet, but she could marry where she pleased without anyone’s permission.
The answer was obvious. At seventeen, while well-learned, she hadn’t been worldly. Moreover, it hadn’t been logic that had driven her actions. It had been a mere lick of common sense akin to that a person might experience in a burning building.
Flee. Save yourself.
When she dreamt of love and companionship, or imagined that bright future with someone to love at her side, marriage never entered her mind. The institution, in and of itself, had been indelibly linked to her ordeal with Rutledge. Equated with consenting to liberties that long roused horror.
Even when she’d suspected the pleasure of a physical union…even when Connor had proven the joys of ardent passion, she’d never contemplated the possibility.
Now, there was more than the gratification to be found in the arrangement to consider.
There was salvation.
“Have I shocked ye into silence?” he teased, though his voice was oddly strained. “It isnae a terribly farfetched idea, is it?”
Piper glanced over her shoulder and found her voice. “In the sense that I’d never pondered it before, yes. However, the idea does hold some merit.”
“Only some?” He sauntered toward her in slow steps, a devastating grin on his lips. “No’ great merit?”
Shaking her head, she brushed the crumbs from her fingers, gasping in surprise when his arms slid around her to cup her breasts. The length of his body melded to her back. The solid beat of his heart rocked her. His growing erection nudged her bottom, and Piper froze.
He nuzzled her neck, and opened the belt of her robe, pushing it to the side. Caressing her bare bottom, he bowed against her until she was bent over the table.
A jolt of panic struck. She straightened abruptly, slamming the back of her head into his chin. “No!” She calmed herself. “I want to see you.”
Turning, she wrapped her arms around his neck, fusing her nearly naked body with his. This. This was what she wanted. Connor and no other.
She drew his head down, expressing the depth of that desire. Urging him to show his. He squeezed her so tight it took her breath, as did his kiss. Deep, devouring. Tasting both tart and savory.
“Will you make love to me now?” she asked. “All of it?”
“Aye, lass,” he crooned. “I will make ye mine.”
His. She liked the sound of that. Regrettably, it couldn’t be him she wed. He was Harry’s brother-in-law, after all. Even if they ran away together, someday he’d want to come back to his family. There’d be no hiding from her brother then, but what would it matter? She’d be safely marr—
“Oh,” she gasped as his clever fingers slipped between her legs driving out all logical thought.
Connor grinned inwardly as she cried out. Head thrown back, she clung to his shoulders. He took advantage, burying his face in the crook of her neck and biting gently.
She yelped sweetly, his vocal lass. By God, she was gorgeous in her passion. Embracing it fully. Never denying a moment of it no matter how far he pushed her. He slid his fingers between her wet folds, teasing her silken flesh, while she gasped and whimpered in his ear. With his free hand, he cupped her breast, kneading gently. Then rolled her taut nipple between his fingers. She called his name, her nails digging into his back.
Each wanton cry laid him bare, each needy thrust of her lithe body fed his lust until he throbbed with an urgency of own. The sound of his own harsh breaths drowned her out.
“Oh, God.”
She was close, bloody close. As was he. She writhed against him, hands gripping the edge of the table. Scooting her bottom up on it to spread her thighs wide. Inviting him to take her.
And he would. He needed her. Had to have her.
