His hands were on her hips, and he swept one around to cup her bottom, to pull her closer. She seemed to read his thoughts and lifted her skirts, gathering them in her hands until her stockinged legs were in view. Then she climbed into his lap. She spread her legs wide, knees resting on either side of his body.
James placed his hands on her hips, but Lucy seemed to want more.
She reached back to grasp his hand, then pulled it around until it was between them.
“Touch me,” she whispered. “Please, James. I want you to.”
This woman could ask anything of him, and he would give it. Anything she wished for, he’d gladly provide. A command would have worked as well as her whispered plea, but the rasp of need in her voice was what undid him.
That need was raw, demanding, and he understood it. He felt it as deeply as she did.
So whatever resistance he’d held on to, whatever cautions rang in his mind about the future and how he couldn’t be enough for her, melted away.
There was just him and her, and this moment.
He wouldn’t take her in a carriage. She deserved much more care and tenderness than that. But he could give her pleasure.
Sliding his hand against the warm fabric of herdrawers, he found the slit, pulled together with a satiny ribbon that gave way with the slightest tug.
Lucy shifted above him, pressing her heat against his hand, her body tense and yet so very soft.
“Breathe, beautiful.”
A ragged chuckle and a flash of her smile made him smile too. When he sensed her body relax a bit against his, he slid his fingers through the damp hair at the apex of her thighs.
She hissed at that in a way that made him instantly hard and aching.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
“Never even crossed my mind,” he told her as he pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her throat. At the same time, he inched his finger along her slit. So wet and hot against his skin.
She was everything he’d ever dreamed of, and somehow, she was here in his arms. Trusting him with the most intimate of explorations.
“No one has ever touched me like this. No one has ever kissed me. I wanted it to be you. I will always want it to be you.” She moved against him then, arching so that he slid his finger into her. He loved feeling her explore what she liked as she bucked tentatively against him.
“That’s it, sweetheart.” He slid another finger inside and she let out a gasp that made him hesitate.
“More,” she said almost petulantly.
“More, love.” He kissed her, took her lips, danced his tongue against hers. Their hungerwasn’t gentle anymore, though he stroked her only as quickly as her bucking hips urged him. Then he used his thumb to find that sweet, tender spot that made her tremble. He stroked at her slick flesh and wished he was using his tongue rather than his finger. Dreamed of being able to give her that pleasure too.
“Oh, James.” Her hands were on his shoulders, then in his hair, gripping his nape. “James,” she repeated, then held her breath for a beat before she broke against him, heat drenching his fingers, her body shuddering in his arms.
He held her tight, kissed her cheek, her forehead.
“That was better than I imagined,” she whispered in his ear while he stroked a hand up and down her back.
“Imagined it a lot, did you?”
“More than is proper, I’d say.” She still sat in his lap, her head resting against his shoulder, her lips just inches from his neck.
“There’s more.”
“I know, and I wish you’d show me.” She let out a throaty laugh, and he felt it in his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her then, wishing the same. Hoping that the little haven they’d found in this carriage, in each other, wouldn’t be torn completely apart by what came next.
“I could”—she yawned and let out a sigh that seemed to melt her further into his chest—“fall asleep like this.”
