She smiled at him.
He chuckled softly. “Are you enjoying looking at me?”
“And touching you, too,” she said and ran the palm of her hand over his chest. “You’re beautiful.”
“I am not beautiful, Loretta.”
“You are. To me.”
“You know that night, so long ago now, that we had dinner at Mammoth House? You were dressed in pale yellow. Almost the color of candlelight.”
“I will never forget that night.”
“When I walked in and saw you standing before the fireplace you looked like an angel to me. You still do.”
“I am not an angel,” she whispered.
“You are to me,” he said huskily, echoing her words, letting his fingertips glide easily from one side of her chest to the other, from the swell of one breast to the other, and down to her very sensitive nipples where he caressed her gently.
A tremor shook her body. Shivers ran along her spine, down her abdomen, to gather and settle between her legs again. She watched while he unbuttoned first one side and then the other of his trousers, letting the flap fall, revealing the bulge beneath his underclothes.
“Are you frightened?”
“I’m eager,” she answered.
“Then let me love you.”
He gently laid her on the blanket and stretched his long, lean body beside her. He rose on his elbow, letting his gaze drift down her face, and lingered over her breasts, drinking in the sight of her. A tremor of expectancy shivered through her as he looked at her with appreciation in his gaze.
“I’ve wanted this since the first night I met you.”
“So have I.”
He reached over and kissed her softly. His lips were warm, moist, and she knew she could kiss him forever. She wound her arms around his back, hugging him to her. Hawkrose over her, propping himself up with one hand, while with the other he grabbed her skirts and shift and bundled them around her waist. He found the waistband of her drawers, slid his hand around, and untied the sash. She lifted her hips and helped him slide the garment down her legs and off her feet, and kicked it away.
While he kissed her tenderly, passionately, his hand moved between them to the warm, womanly spot between her legs. He softly touched her most intimate part, tenderly caressing her. Loretta was powerless to do anything but enjoy the feelings he created inside her. He rubbed the center of her desire while he lovingly kissed her lips.
Her hands roved over his back, his shoulders, down his firm buttocks, and back up again over his slim hips and flat waist. She eased her hands around to his chest, down to his waist, and down to the band of his trousers, the hardness beneath them evident as she helped slip the garments past his lean hips. Hawk rewarded her with an eager moan and deepened their kiss.
Chills of sensations skipped along her spine. Desire as strong as waves crashing to shore tumbled through her, filled her, and fed pleasure all over her body. With his knees, he opened her legs, and then slowly, gently, yet firmly pressed his weight upon her and carefully, skillfully joined his body to hers.
His invasion was welcomed, tender, yet commanding. And only slightly painful.
He made love to her with a tenderness that calmed her. His movements were slow and sensual. He kissed her, stroked her body from her shoulder to the plane of her hip. She joined the steady rhythm of his hips meeting hers, and he moved so gently on top of her that she gave herself over to an indescribable pleasure that seem to shatter every sensation in her body.
She buried her face into his shoulder as an inexplicable explosion gripped her, speeding through her body before slowly fading into pleasant, languid ripples that wafted from head to toe. Whispering his name softly, she relaxed onto the woolen blanket, feeling as if all the breath had left her lungs.
Oblivious for a few seconds, she then heard Hawk’s breath quicken, felt him tremble. She raised her hips up to meet his demand until he shuddered with passion and a soft moan of pleasure passed his lips. His arms slid under her back and cupped her to him as he rested his weight upon her. Loretta smoothed her hands over his back, down to his buttocks, and up to his shoulders again.
For how long, she didn’t know, but they rested quietly until Hawk rolled to his side. He bent his head and kissed that warm, soft spot behind her ear and buried his nose in the length of her long, damp hair. With a gentle hand, he raked his fingers down her breast, to the curve of her waist and then over her slim hip and thigh.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Hawk slowly raised his head and smiled down at her. “I was wondering if you were ever going to get around to admitting that to me.”
She frowned. “For your information, and according to Sir Vincent, gentlemen are supposed to say the words first to the lady they are wooing.”
“I did.”
