“I’ve been wanting to do that since you took off your shirt in that field,” she said, her lips against his ear.
“It is wise you didn’t or we would be doing this for all to see.”
She laughed her agreement before kissing him again, deeply, fully, without reservations.
Sarah was more unclothed than he, so Gavin had to help. After all, men’s fashions were more complicated than skirts and stockings.
As he explored her mouth, he unbuttoned his breeches. His manhood was a proud and ready being. He’d been waiting for years for this moment and he would no longer be denied.
Then Sarah took the lead. Ending the kiss, she took Gavin’s hand and led him into the bedroom. “Sit,” she said, gently pushing him toward the edge of the bed.
Gavin reached for her as he obeyed but she slipped from his grasp. Instead, she knelt in front of him. Her dress was unlaced and the bodice was dangerously loose and askew, revealing full breasts and a tantalizing glimpse of a nipple. He wanted to grab her by the arms and lift her up and on top of him. Instead, she took ahold of his left boot. She gave it a mighty pull and it slid down his leg. She reached for the other and did the same. Then she stood, holding her bodice in place with one hand. Ah, yes, she’d known where his eye had been the whole time.
“Let it go,” he whispered.
She pretended to hesitate a moment and then released her dress so that it fell to her feet. She had not worn petticoats or small clothes this morning. There had been no time for leisurely dressing and the thought that she had been so completely naked under her dress during the duel shredded Gavin’s last hold over himself.
He reached for Sarah and devoured her with his kiss as he brought her onto the bed beside him. Her hands held his waist, smoothed over his buttocks, pushing his breeches down. Gavin helped the best he could without losing this heady kiss.
Never before had he experienced this close connection with another person. Kissing Sarah was as natural and vital to him as breathing.
He rolled on top of her. Her legs—those long, lovely legs that had captured his imagination in the theater—opened to him, cradled him. He could feel her heat. He rose over her, placing himself against tight red curls. He was hard, beyond ready.
“Sarah—” he started, in this moment loving her so much, he needed to assure himself that this was what she wanted but she cut him off.
“Gavin, take me.”
And that is what he did.
His manhood knew where to aim. His body glided deeply inside as smoothly as if he’d been born to be there. Every pleasure sense pulsed with the joy of joining.
Sarah’s hand pressed upon his hip. Her body curved to accept him, and Gavin found himself buried within her to the hilt. She was perfect, magic, tight.
Instinctively, he began moving. She eagerly matched his rhythm.
This was what Gavin had been waiting for.
Over the years, he’d heard men brag. They’d been descriptive. And, of course, there were the poets . . . but nothing could have prepared Gavin for the complete happiness he experienced being in her arms.
Her heat enveloped him. Her legs held him steady. He had worried that he would need to hold back, to be gentle, but he discovered that she would have none of that. She met the force of his thrusts and whispered for more. “Please, more, Gavin.”
Angels could not sing such sweet music.
He felt her quicken. What a miracle a woman’s body was. She tightened, pulled, and then came the hotness of her release—and he could hold back no longer. With one last thrust, he experienced his own release. The intensity of the moment robbed him of reason.
For a solid moment, they became one.
Nor did he think that at last he was a man.
What nonsense. Gavin had never had any doubts about his manhood or his place in the world.
No, what came to his mind was how blessed he was to share this moment with Sarah. They were complete, whole, one.
From the point where his path had crossed with hers, he’d been aware of her. Now, he understood why.
Every path of his life had been leading him to her.
Sarah could not move. She could barely breathe.
