“Olive,” he growled, almost in warning.
Impishly, she peeked up at him. “Yes, Phineas?”
“If ye dinnae stop looking at me that way…”
His threat trailed off, and she was suddenly feeling quite bold. Taking a step back, she reached for the hooks of her corset, glad it wasn’t so tight she’d need help getting out of it.
She wanted this. She wantedhim.
And here, in this small shed, with the rain pounding above them and the ghost of their failed excavation hanging over them, she meant to have him.
“Olive—”
That was as far as he got when the corset popped off. She took a deep breath, knowing her wet chemise did nothing to hide her body, and he groaned.
Then he was reaching for her, and she was pressed up against him, and soon, his mouth waseverywhere. Her lips, her throat, her shoulder, her?—
Her breasts.
Oh. Oh my.
The sensation of his warm tongue against her air-cool skin was almost more than she could stand. “Phineas!”
“Aye, love,” he growled. “I ken what ye need.”
And then his hand wasthere, between her legs, giving her exactly what she needed. He stroked her damp curls, and she whimpered and lifted her arms around his neck once again.
But that wasn’t enough. She neededmore. Her hips flexed, urging him on, and she lifted one leg to throw around his thigh, then his hip, trying to get closer.
The heavy bulge in his trousers was now pressed right against the place she needed it, and his skin was warm and smooth under her palms as she scrambled at him, trying to pull him even closer.
“I need— Phineas,now!” She knew she wasn’t making any sense, but hopefully, the man had some idea how intercourse wassupposed to go, because she was too overcome with need to draw him a diagram.
“Are ye— Olive, are ye certain?”
“Nowplease!”
With a groan, he quit protesting and allowed her to push him backward against the pile of canvas tarps.
They fell with anoof, but he cushioned her fall, the momentum of which only managed to push his hardness against her again.
As he shifted into a more comfortable position, she scrambled to her knees, pulling her chemise over her head with a triumphant flourish, leaving her completely nude, except for her spectacles. Which shewasn’tgoing to take off, because doing so would mean missing out on the sight of this glorious man reaching for the buttons of his trousers. She grabbed a handful of material and yanked everything down to his knees.
When his manhood burst free, already stiff and desperate and crowning with a bead of moisture, Olive gave a little sigh of relief.
Oh good, hedoesknow how this is supposed to go.
Smiling with eagerness, she met his eyes.
“Olive—”
She didn’t give him time to finish whatever he was going to say. Instead, she surged to meet him, throwing her arms around him, at the same time she threw one leg over his torso to straddle him.
His hands found her breasts, then his mouth closed around one nipple, and she mewed in desperation as his thick member slid along the cleft of her rear end.
Since his hands were occupied—excellently so—she reached between them and stroked herself. The simple movement nearly sent her over the edge. How many times had she done this, imagining him under her in this position?
Almost nightly since meeting him.
