Page 42 of Her Magnificent Mistake
He wouldalwaysdesire her.
He’d been strong enough to pull away then, knowing there was no future for them.
He’d been strong enough…well, not to stop touching himself, but to prevent himself from marching into her guest bedroom and demanding she take all her clothes off.
Today, though? Now?
She loved him still.
She’d never stopped loving him.
She’d never abandoned their relationship because he was unworthy, she’d never run off to marry a man because her brother had touted his virtues. Bull had suggestedHawkas a suitor, and Marcia had agreed!
And she loved him! That, more than anything, made his cock throb in need.
“Hawk,” his woman gasped, arms around his neck, kissing his jaw, his lips, grinding her pelvis against his hardness, it was a wonder she had enough breath to speak. “God,yes, Hawk!”
With a groan of surrender, he kicked the door closed and fell against it, pulling her with him.
Marcia wore a light jacket over her cream blouse, with a wide belt and a skirt full enough to hike up the burn. It was a perfectly respectable, if informal, costume. Right now, though, all he could focus on was how much he wanted itgone.
As if she could read his thoughts, Marcia dropped her arms from his neck—without breaking the kiss—and shrugged her jacket off. It was a move full of wriggling and huffing, of breasts heaving against him and all thoughts leaving his mind, and when he peeled the garment from her shoulders and tossed it aside, she groaned in approval and snaked her arms around his sides to pull him closer to her.
With the door at his back, Hawk dragged his palms across every inch of her he could reach. Across her shoulders, down her arms, around to her arse to squeeze it. She gave a needy little whimperand ground her hips against him, cupping his hardness with her warmth.
And Christ, was he hard. It was as if finding out she still loved him was almost all that was necessary to make him come. They weren’t even naked yet, and he was in very real danger of soiling his drawers.
With that thought, he bent over her, kissing down her throat, as he went to work on the buttons on her blouse.
More nakedness, yes, that would help.
It wasn’t until she moaned and arched against him that he realized what he could feel, and why he could feel it—and froze. “Marcia.” He was all but panting for her now. “Ye’re no’ wearing a corset?”
Batting his hands away impatiently, she allowed her fingers to fly down her buttons. “I only brought my good corsets—I was trying to look sophisticated, seductive, remember? I thought that was what you wanted.” She smiled shyly at him as she tugged open her blouse. “I did not think to bring my sports corset, and I hardly wanted to hike Pook’s Glen in tight bindings.”
“Bless ye,” he groaned, reaching unbidden for her tits. As his hands closed around them they both groaned again, Marcia’s head dropping back in bliss.
Through the light cotton of her chemise her nipples tightened, and he brushed them roughly with his callused thumbs.
He was suddenly desperate to taste them.
Still holding her, he twisted them both, untilMarciawas the one pinned to the door by him. In ten years he hadn’t forgotten whatshe liked—how could he?—and thank Christ she liked it as rough as he did.
Lady Marcia Calderbank was the only woman who could match his coarse tendencies in the bedroom. He liked to dominate, to pound, to possess, and she met him toe-to-toe, taking everything he could give and more.
Now Hawk used his strength to his advantage, lifting her by the waist and thrusting his hips forward, pinning her to the door with them so his hands would be free to caress, to squeeze.
Since she was now dangling from the door, her tits were closer to his mouth—and he wasted no time. He bent forward and captured one in his mouth, quickly soaking the cotton of her chemise and teasing her nipple.
With a thrumming whimper Marcia struggled to kick free of her skirts, then lifted her legs to wrap around his hips. This meant his cock, already throbbing against his trousers, was nestled right where it wanted to be.
Aye, there were quite a few layers of material between them, thanks to her petticoats, but right now, his cock didn’t mind.God, this felt good.
Unconsciously he flexed his hips, thrusting upward against her warmth, and she matched him with a welcoming moan.
Her fingers dug into his hair, holding his mouth against her, even as he switched to the other tit. Her chemise was soaked through now, becoming wonderfully transparent, and he scraped his teeth over her nipple once, twice, causing her to buck and moan.
And Marcia wasn’t a passive participant,och nay. She ground her cunny against him, her breaths coming in desperate little gasps. One of his hands reached beneath her thigh, holding her arse up…his fingers creeping closer and closer to that sweet warmth, despite the cotton between them.
