He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. He savored her scent and taste. He had been waiting for this kiss with more anticipation than he’d realized. The feel of her in his arms brought him profound contentment.
“I cannot stay long,” she said while she nuzzled his neck.
“Then come inside with me now.”
“I do not think I should. It can’t be like last time. I can’t risk falling asleep. There are things I must do early tomorrow.”
I risk much. That was what she meant, as if he needed the reminder. Which he probably did, since in his mind he was already past these initial steps in claiming her.
“We will stay out here, then, if you like. The night is warm enough.”
“It is lovely here. I can smell the flowers in the bed beyond these trees. The breeze carries the scent to us.”
The only sweet scent he noticed was hers, familiar to him now and a part of her presence that he remembered while she was away.
“How did you get here?”
“I walked.”
He should have made arrangements about that first. It had been ignoble of him not to. Nor would Vincent or another footman have followed her this late. Their orders were to ensure she returned from Lady Farnsworth’s unharmed.
He pictured her being stopped on her way here by a constable who assumed she was a whore. “I will bring you home. You are not to walk through town at night anymore.”I will buy you a carriage and pair, and hire a coachman and footman to serve you.Stratton had been correct. Practicalities would demand bigger arrangements, no matter how casually this began.
“I would prefer you do not.”
“Then I will hire a hansom. Do not object. It is either that or I call for one of my carriages.”
She giggled. He felt her smile while she kissed him. “One of my carriages. I forget who you are sometimes. What you are. How astonishing this is, you and me here.” She caressed his face and peered at him through the dark. “I may forget what you are, but I will never forgetyou. Not ever. I will treasure the memories until I die.”
“There will be many more, starting tonight.” He kissed her hard, the way he had wanted to since he’d embraced her. Her response said the time for talk was over. Her quick fever matched his own. The breezes swam around them as they rose in the whirlwind together.
Joy. That was what he felt. That was the difference. He noted that vaguely while he released the tapes of her dress. She wore only short stays underneath, and her breasts rose above them, covered only by her chemise. She straddled him and pushed down the chemise herself. He lifted her hips and licked her breasts until her hips rocked with need. She clutched one of the folly’s stone supports behind the bench and urged him on with her cries and gasps.
He lifted her skirts. “Hold these.” She took them in one hand and steadied herself on the support with the other. He lifted her higher yet until she set her feet on either side of him. He sensed her astonishment and hesitation. Too soon, perhaps, but he could not stop now.
He caressed her mound, then stroked deeply. She looked down and cried her pleasure and shock. He touched her until she trembled and her cries turned desperate. Then he lowered her just enough so he could support her bottom with his hands and kiss the same flesh he had aroused with his fingers.
Desire owned him then, like a feral madness. He indulged himself until her scream of release almost undid him.
She dropped to her knees, flanking his lap. She fumbled with his trousers and tried to release him. He made quick work of it. She rose slightly, then lowered with a groan as they joined.
She moved on him, hard. Holding his shoulders, she circled and slammed furiously, creating unbelievable sensations and provoking a ferocious urge. He grasped her hips and pushed deeper yet while his consciousness darkened and the demand for a finish raged through him. Her escalating cries sounded around him while the cataclysm shook him to his essence.
* * *
She could stay like this forever, breathless and spent, sagged against his chest, surrounded by his arms. This was heaven, surely. While she lay on him in a stupor of sensuality, she knew such peace. Such bliss.
“I have let a house where we can meet next time.” His words, spoken near her ear, reminded her that it could not last forever.
She buried her face in his chest and swallowed the burn in her throat. He thought he knew who she was now. What she was. But he didn’t. It had been a mistake to come tonight. The lure had proved stronger than her courage to do the right thing.
Only one more time, she had told herself. Yet here she was, wondering if there might be another one more time. And each time she deceived him more.
What does a daughter owe a mother? She had debated the question all last night, appalled with herself but facing the cost of saving her mother squarely. Finally. A mother who had abandoned her. Did she owe her own life? Her soul? The possibility of tasting heaven with a man who, inexplicably, wanted her?
She did not know the answers. She only knew the questions had come too late. There could be no honesty now, not without explaining how she had used him to commit a crime.
She sat up and looked at him. She could not keep her emotion out of her voice. “There cannot be a next time. I cannot do what you ask. It would make me more dependent on you than I have been on anyone in years. Nor is there a future in such arrangements. They serve brief, passing affairs, and I think I will be the one to grieve when it ends.”
