He grins at me, and I run my thumb lovingly along his high cheekbone and thread my fingers through his hair. ‘And you’re so pretty, Miss Lizzy,’ he murmurs, tracing my lips with his tongue while sliding a hand up under my T-shirt to cup my breast. As we kiss and he feels my nipple, moulding it with his fingers, fireworks explode in my brain. Heat plumes down my body, a plumb line falling directly between my legs. I groan a little and reach down to touch his silky hardness.
‘I wanted this on the moors,’ he murmurs, emitting a small gasp and a moan as I stroke his full length with my hand. ‘It was difficult ... to keep my hands off you, but you were with ...’
‘Don’tsay his name!’
‘All through the night, I couldn’t stop thinking ... about what I wanted to do.’
‘And what was that?’ I kiss along his jawline, his sweet musky scent driving me wild. I want to consume him.
A pause as he sucks on my earlobe, then a whisper in my ear: ‘To take off your top and your knickers. Can I now?’
‘God. Yes. Please,’ I groan and sit up. He lifts my T-shirt over my head and cups my breasts, kissing each reverently.I lie back; and he eases my lacy G-string knickers over my hips, down my legs, and off. I’m thoroughly aroused from his husky whispers and feeling his cock. So when his cool finger trails up my inner thigh and touches my hot, swollen clit, it’s electric. I moan as he licks and blows on my neck and massages me lightly with his fingers, tears of relief rather than sorrow now collecting in my ducts.Fuck, it feels so good, and I want him to feel good too.
Dain groans in pleasure as I swirl my fist over his wet, slippery head and up and down his shaft.
‘God.’ He arches into me, and my legs fall open shamelessly as he rubs me harder. Moaning as heat spirals in my groin, I rut against his hand, unable to control myself, as he kisses my lips, my neck, my breasts and our hands stroke each other.
‘Lizzy, oh yes, oh god,’ he pants, along with several other choice expletives, as I fondle his tumescent cock. I have to laugh; there’s definitely no chance of him being a vicar with that mouth!
He sucks on my nipple hard, and I start to unravel, groaning as two of his fingers play with my clit and stroke my entrance. ‘I know you’re not a Huntingdon,’ I pant, opening my legs wider. ‘But I give you permission to take full advantage of me now.’
Dain’s fingers slip in and out of my wet pussy while he rubs my clit slowly with his thumb. ‘Uuuuh, god, Jesus,’ I moan, almost delirious, as electricity starts swirling up and down my limbs. My hips buck under his hand, seeking ultimate pleasure. My orgasm explodes from the epicentre of my core, waves of ecstasy fanning out all over my body. ‘Oh yes, oh yes.’ I grind my pussy into his hand, riding his fingers, begging him to keep going as I quickly stroke his cock. Moments later, he swears and cries out, his release flowing like honey over my hand.
Panting and shuddering in the aftermath, he holds me as the wind howls and icy rain patters against the windowpane. All hell could be breaking loose outside, but I don’t care. I’m where I’ve always wanted to be, lying in Dain’s arms, sated—my inner tempest soothed.
Chapter 22
Oh! I saw a light, and I thought a ghost would come.
(Charlotte Brontë,Jane Eyre)
I wake alone in a cold room. There’s no sign of Dain. Was last night a dream? The only signs that it wasn’t are that I’m lying in bed naked and Dain’s candle has burnt down lopsidedly and dripped a puddle of wax on the nightstand. But where is he? Hopefully, he isn’t having regrets ...
To my relief, he appears, smiling beatifically in his pyjama bottoms while juggling mugs of tea and a dinner plate piled high with toast.
‘Ey up chuck,’ he says in a strong Yorkshire accent, and I laugh, pulling the sheet up so my boobs aren’t on show. He deposits the plate of toast and cups of tea on the nightstand, shoving the candleholder out of the way. ‘The heating’s come on, but it’s still freezing. So I thought we could have brekkie and stay in bed until the house warms up.’
‘Good idea.’ I’m loving the way he’s acting like it’s an everyday occurrence to wake up together. I relax my tense shoulder muscles ...Everything’s OK.
Dain hops back into bed and slyly tucks his cold feet under my warm calves, making my shoulders stiffen again. ‘Flipping heck! Your feet are like blocks of ice!’
He hands me my Brontë mug and proffers the plate of toast. ‘Hehe. Payback for the sleeping bag when I had to cradle your glacial body.’
I take a slurp of hot tea and a bite of strawberry-jam-laden toast. ‘Well, if you hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t be here now, warming up your icy trotters,’ I say, waving my slice of toast at him.
Dain’s smile falters. ‘I was scared to death I was going to lose you that night, so we probably shouldn’t joke about it.’ He shakes his head. ‘I still have awful flashbacks.’
‘OK, we won’t talk about it,’ I say hurriedly, feeling contrite. But I can’t resist adding, ‘Though I note my potential demise didn’t stop you from wanting to get me naked!’
‘Well, you’d warmed up by then ...’
After breakfast, Dain is in no hurry to leave; and we lie in each other’s arms, cuddling and chatting about nothing. At some point, his pyjama bottoms come off again, and we can’t seem to stop kissing or caressing each other.
‘I should get up,’ I groan, feeling too pleasantly full, warm, and aroused to believe that I will.
Dain licks a speck of jam off the corner of my mouth. ‘I’m well up,’ he jokes. ‘But yes, I know you’ve got an important meeting with your supervisor.’ He sighs, playing with a lock of my hair. ‘I also have to tackle a tricky scene with Azalea and Nathaniel.’
‘Oh?’ My interest piques. I’m looking forward to reading this book.
