“I can’t believe these were once my spectacles.” She shook her head.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and a breeze swept a few drops of moisture through the small shelter. The sensation reminded him of when he’d removed her shoe that day they’d gone walking.
He’d kissed her then.
He wanted to kiss her again.
Would that be foolish? He’d already ventured into territory that conflicted with his ideas about marriage. They’d be friends. They’d have children together.
He tipped her chin up and couldn’t help but smile at the questions in her eyes. God save him from her questions! “Friends?” he asked before she could even open her mouth.
She nodded slowly.
And then Marcus leaned forward. The top of her head barely reached his chin, so he had to bend his knees to lower himself enough that he could reach her easily.
Still holding her hand, he tracked her lips with his mouth alone.
When he finally captured it, she sighed.
Sweet. Soft. Giving. He drew a line along the seam of her lips.
They parted without hesitation.
Marcus didn’t kiss many women. And when he’d kissed women in the past, he’d had his hands on them, he’d explored their bodies, and pressed them up against his cock.
His fingers grasped Emily’s tightly as he turned his head to deepen this kiss. She allowed his tongue to explore along the lines of her pearl-like teeth, and the tender skin behind her lips.
Had he kissed her before? He had, surely, he had, but it hadn’t felt like this.
When her tongue slid along his teeth, Marcus opened his mouth to take even more of her. Her head tilted back farther but she met him in this dance.
Lightning flashed, and thunder boomed an instant later. He barely took heed when he felt mists of water from rain slashing through the air.
He finally dropped her hands and took hold of her face. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted to taste her everywhere.
Lifting her to sit atop the railing, he stepped between her legs. Her hands combed through his hair, along his neck. God, but he wanted her lips on him again.
Everywhere.
“Marcus.” She mumbled his name and then wrapped her legs around his waist. He pressed himself against her center. Not stopping himself. Not thinking. He reached under her gown.Softest damn skin in the world.A woman’s thighs. Emily’s thighs. He slid his hand higher until he found her warmth, her moist heat. She jumped and made a mewling sound.
“You like this?” He slid one finger along the plump skin. He wasn’t going to hold off for very long. Her desire was wet on his hand now. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. “Hold on to me,” he growled and then dropped to the ground, pulling her knees over his shoulders at the same time.
He pushed her skirts out of the way and dragged his mouth along the butterfly skin of her inner thighs. The scent of woman drew him higher, drowning out the rain, the thunder. Drowning out everything but for this woman.
He felt her hands on his head but did his sweet Emily push him away? Hell, no, she tugged him closer. He used his tongue on her and then his fingers. He flicked. He sucked. And he reveled in her coming apart all around him.
When he could ignore his own desire not one second longer, he pried her thighs from around his head and stood back up. By now, all he could think of was getting inside of her. Both their hands fumbled at his falls, and then he was free.
She felt so wet, hot, and tight.
One storm waged outside and another under the thatched roof of this tiny gazebo.
She met him, thrust for thrust. Magic, lightning, water, thunder, and warm, tight heat pulsing all around him. When he found his release, he nearly collapsed.
Marcus closed his eyes and pulled her head against his chest. He felt a little lost. Where were they? Her hair dripped down the heat of his chest. She was soaked.
“Emily!” He opened his eyes and tipped her head back, so he could see into her eyes. Water trickled down her face, her neck, and into the top of her dress. But she was… laughing?
