He caught sight of Honora laid out on the pile of pillows and blankets the staff had arranged for them like a scene from some exotic bower. She lay at ease on her side, her head resting on one outstretched arm, the smooth skin of her arms bare and sun-kissed.
Silas had left to check on his men watching the perimeter. There had been no further signs of trespassers, but it wouldn’t do to let down their guard.
As he walked closer through the long grass, he imagined himself a centaur stalking an unsuspecting nymph, his gaze lingering on the soft, lush curves of her body.
A body he had thoroughly explored more than a few times since that night when they finally succumbed to their desire.
She was asleep if the slow, even fall of her shoulders was any indication. A book lay open and forgotten at her fingertips, her lips parted invitingly, and Silas imagined Honora was dreaming of something sweet and innocent.
The position enhanced the generous swell of her hip, the tempting dip of her waist, and that perfectly rounded bottom on display for him as her dress twisted around her thighs.
Fuck, she was beautiful.
He had thought about it often in the past.
Clever and kind and quick to laugh. Slanting hazel eyes sparkling with promise.
But sometimes, at moments like this, Honora was also just simply the most desirable woman Silas had ever laid eyes on.
Looking at her, his breeches were already straining with the world’s most painful cockstand.
What was wrong with him?He was almost a decade older than her. A trusted family friend.
And, God help him, he couldn’t keep his hands off of her.
Silas slowly stalked across the meadow, approaching her sleeping form, his heart flipping with that most tender of emotions.
It was pointless to fight it.
He loved her, he wanted her.
He couldn’t imagine going back to his life without her in it.
He knew she felt something for him, it had always been there, in her eyes. He had just refused to acknowledge it.
When all this was over, Silas vowed he would stop at nothing to convince Honora to marry him.
Make sure he could keep her in his sight all day long and then wrap her safe in his arms at night.
Silas knelt slowly behind Honora on the blanket, his body clamouring for him to take her, right there and then.
Oh, it would be so easy to lift those white muslin skirts and fit himself behind her, part her legs and thrust deep, watching her face as she awoke from sleep with her body already responding.
He tracked the slow rise and fall of her chest, admiring her lovely face as she slept deeply under the shifting shade of the trees.
He must have disturbed her slumber, for she sighed drowsily, rolling half onto her stomach and rucking her skirts up around her calves before settling once more.
Her bottom was even more tempting from this new angle.
Silas couldn’t help himself. He reached out and stroked a hand up her leg, smoothing his palm over the snowy white stockings and up the back of her thigh, lifting her skirts higher as he fingered the satin garter ribbon that teased him there.
Honora made a sensual little sound deep in her throat but didn’t stir.
Inflamed, hungry, Silas pushed the skirts up higher to her hips, exposing the crease where her thigh met her arse.
The sight of all that smooth, creamy white skin sent his lust skyrocketing, his breath growing short as he palmed the full weight of her bottom in his hand, squeezing the plump flesh softly as Honora sighed, her eyelids fluttering.
He leaned over her, kissing her hair and whispering in her ear.
