Page 112 of In Search of a Husband
He was desperate for her, the cockstand in his trousers beyond uncomfortable, but he didn’t wish to rush this. Didn’t want to miss this moment with her because he hadn’t thought he would ever have a second chance. However foolish he had been…
No, not foolish. Headstrong. Stubborn.
A damned eejit.
Kate pressed her chin against her shoulder, meeting his eyes with hers, full of want and something else altogether.
Reassurance.
Or maybe it was comfort.
All he knew was the same feeling ran through him like a jagged dirk, leveling him.
She was his, but it wouldn’t be good enough.
Duncan had gone after her because he had been too proud or afraid or whatever damned feeling it had been that stood between him and that marquess.
As if he had been threatened by such a man when he knew where her heart had belonged.
Romantical.
“What’s funny, darling?”
Gabriel pressed his lips to her temple, never wishing to look away from her, but he needed her mouth against his. He needed her fire.
Katherine Bancroft was a woman who possessed him body and soul and burned, forcing him to see that for once he had settled into a life he thought controlled by a small amount of years, forced to be spent correcting the wrongs of others.
When in actuality, he had a life to discover and make his own.
And she had taught him that. This beautiful woman…
He spun her around and cradled her face in his hands, bringing his lips down to hers, desperate and crushing. Not gentle. He would take her apart in pieces, in slow touches and rough caresses.
She opened her mouth to him, his tongue pressing against hers,tasting the sweet wine they shared when they returned home and saw Finn settled with the surgeon to help settle their nerves.
Kate whimpered against his mouth, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it down his shoulders.
He winced, pain searing across his chest.
Her lips, so soft, so…
It was maddening.
They broke apart, and she tossed his shirt to the floor beside them.
“Gabe.” A sigh laced with need. His very favorite sound. And yet he didn’t wish to stop kissing her, half afraid he would discover this was all some twisted dream.
“Let me feel ye, lass,” he moaned. He reached and brushed his hand against the warm, damp curls between her legs. She pressed against his touch, whimpering as he parted her with his fingers, and stroked the bud at the top of her cleft.
She backed away from his touch suddenly, retreating toward the warm fire. She grabbed a blanket from the bed and tossed it to the floor, then pointed, waiting for him to join her.
Kate undid the falls of his trousers and released his cock, taking it in hand.
Gabriel tossed his head back and moaned.
Time.
He wouldn’t let it control his life any longer, but this with Kate? He wished to savor her and take her quickly at the same time. To rut her like a wild animal, driven with the need to know she was safe and his and wouldn’t leave.
