“Th-that’s not embroidery,” she stammered as he slid his tongue into her mouth, cutting off further arguments. The thin muslin she wore revealed curves that he wanted to explore intimately.
“It isn’t?” He hardly cared that they were in the garden where anyone could happen upon them. “There’s a gamekeeper’s cottage not far from here,” he suggested. “Though I might have destroyed it.”
“What are you doing, David?” she murmured against his mouth. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, and she looked utterly desirable.
“Showing you all the attention you should have had when I was otherwise distracted.” He nipped at her lips. “I’m not very good with words.”
“You’re better at actions,” Amelia agreed. She leaned in and kissed him softly, and the touch of her mouth was a physical reassurance. He crushed her in his embrace, and the warmth of her arms broke through the ice of his solitude. He wasn’t used to her unreserved affection, but his lonely soul reveled in it.
“If you hadn’t been there this past week, I would have lost myself,” he admitted. Pressing a lock of her hair back, he added, “That’s what a real marriage is, Amelia. Loving someone enough that you don’t run from the worst moments.”
“Why did you keep pushing me away?” she whispered.
“Because I was afraid of how much I’ve come to love you. I felt like I was dishonoring Katherine by letting myself feel again. I should have known it would be impossible to stay apart from a woman like you.”
The need to touch her again was a visceral force, pulling him closer. He hardly cared where they were—he wanted to push away the shadows of death and hold fast to this woman. He lost himself, kissing her hard until their tongues mingled.
“Stay with me,” he commanded.
She lifted her green eyes to his. “Convince me.”
The glint in her expression only magnified the urge to be wicked. “All right.”
He sat and pulled her onto his lap, keeping her legs sideways. He caressed her spine, his hand drifting to the edge of her skirts.
“David, no. I didn’t meanthat. Someone might come and see us.” Her face had gone crimson, and he fumbled with her skirts until he could reach beneath them.
“They won’t see anything,” he swore. “And if they do come, all they’ll discover is a wife seated upon her husband’s lap.”
His words were like a match, flaring a pulse of need within her. Amelia was torn between curiosity and horror that he would indeed make love to her in the garden. Her fears came to fruition when his hand reached beneath her skirts, rearranging them over his lap. He found the seam of her intimate opening, brushing against her curls. She was shocked by the way her wanton flesh responded to his touch.
“David—”
“What?” He caressed her intimately, exploring her sensitive opening with his hands. She was taken aback by the way he was coaxing such a reaction. “It’s no different than what you did to me in the coach that night, on our journey here.” He invaded her with his fingers, and she suppressed a moan of pleasure. “You offered yourself to me on the day I destroyed the cottage. I’m simply going to accept your invitation now.”
Her body was melting against his fingers, achingly wet as he found the nodule above her opening and began to rub it.
“You’re being very wicked,” she whispered, her hands digging into his trousers.
“But you love me anyway.”
Yes. Yes, I do.
With her skirts covering his lap, no one could see what he was doing. They were utterly alone, and the thought of him taking her right here was shocking.
“Do you want me now, Amelia?” To underscore his words, he began entering and withdrawing from her with his fingers.
“Yes.” She was drowning in sensation, lost with the way he was touching her. She leaned down to kiss him hard, trying to arouse the same feelings in him.
She did love this man, no matter that he’d isolated himself in the past. At this moment, he was giving her his undivided attention, and she could hardly bear it.
He shifted his hand a moment, and at first, she didn’t know what he was doing. Then she realized he’d unbuttoned his trousers and had freed his erection. Against her wet flesh, she felt the hard length of his shaft.
“W—we shouldn’t,” she breathed. “Anyone could come and see us.” But she pressed against the arms of the chair, lifting slightly until he could fit himself inside her. The moment he was buried within, she felt another surge of need.
A shattered breath caught her, and she couldn’t resist the urge to squeeze his length. Not only did he pull her hips tightly to him, but he murmured in her ear, “God, I love it when you do that.”
He urged her to lift up and sit on him again. The sensation was breathtaking in a position she’d never tried before. Though it took her a moment to find the rhythm, she grasped his shoulders and pressed herself against him.
