Page 52 of Lady Frederica and the Scot Who Would Not
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” she replied.
Was it? He had a burning need to rectify that. He’d been so busy avoiding her this week, but in this moment, he wanted to ensure she understood how wonderful she was. He leaned down and slid his hands up, up, up her back, savoring her silky skin under his fingertips. He didn’t stop his pleasurable glide until his hands rested on her heavy breasts. He cupped them and started to gently stoke her flame by circling her nipples with his fingers so that her need would match his when he took her.
“Good God, that feels good,” she moaned, pressing her breasts harder against his hands.
He followed the clues she was giving him, continuing to lavish attention on her breasts with gentle circles and tiny pinches, and as he did so, he kissed his way up her spine. His chest seemed to expand with each kiss he gave her.
He used his left knee to nudge her legs farther apart, and then he reluctantly released her left breast to guide his cock to her entrance. Heat met the tip. “You have to be the best thing I’ve ever felt,” he said, sliding his now-free hand around her hip and through her soft hair to find the spot he knew would make her more than ready. She gasped as his fingers parted flesh and settled on her pleasure point, and then he began to stroke her. Each moan from her brought his own lust closer to the edge. “You’re so wet and ready, Freddy,” he said, his voice now ragged from trying to hold back from taking her.
“I am ready,” she panted. “Take me, Gabriel.”
“Not yet,” he replied. “Soon.” He wanted to bring her almost to completion before he did. He delved a finger inside her, nearly crying out as her quivering flesh tightened around him.
“Gabriel Beckford,” she growled, “if you don’t enter me right now, I will never allow you to do this to me again.”
He chuckled at that, withdrew his finger, and pressed his mouth close to her ear, even as his gripped her hips and slid slowly in her. “Liar,” he whispered as unspeakable pleasure washed over him, consumed him, and stole all his thoughts except one: she was his.
With that in his head, he slid in and out of her, the friction and her tightness making all his muscles coil and demand to be released. She pushed her bottom back toward him, and he could see her hands gripping the coverlet. When she threw back her head and screamed and her body clenched around his cock, he found his release in an explosion that threatened to bring him down upon her and drive them both flat against the mattress. He smacked his palm against the bed as he filled her with his seed, and never, never had he felt closer to another person in his life. It stole his ability to breathe and then left him trembling.
It took him a moment to gain control, but when he had, he withdrew from her, and she turned to face him. “Do you know what I’d like to do now?” she asked, smiling shyly at him.
“What?” he asked, fighting the way that simple look from her made his heart squeeze. But it was useless in this moment.
“I’d like to lie in bed and while away the remains of the morning with you.”
He should say no, yet he found himself motioning to the bed, and when her eyes lit up, he could not make himself regret or question it. Together, they climbed into bed, and he stretched out his arm to allow her to lay her head on his chest. As she settled against him, slinging her leg over his, placing her hand on his heart, his throat constricted and his breath became trapped in his lungs. It could be like this with her every day if he let it. Unless, that was, he lost her.
He gritted his teeth, unwilling to ponder the question he still had no answer for. He wanted simply to enjoy this one moment. She was like the sun warming him when she was near. She was so achingly lovely. He trailed his gaze down her back, recalling his hands on her smooth skin, and then his gaze wandered over her rounded hip and her calf. She had the most alluring calves he’d ever seen. In fact, she was the most beguiling woman he’d ever met. She was a free spirit in a world where conformity was prized.
“Are you staring at me?” she asked, turning her face up to his.
“Mm-hmm,” he answered, reaching over and tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear.
Her eyes shimmered like the color of a dove’s wings. “The hue of your eyes reminds me of the doves that I could see out of the one window of the room Blythe and I lived in with our mother.”
A sad look settled on her face. “How did she die?”
“From poverty.” He didn’t intend on expanding. Hell, he’d not intended to say as much as he had, but Freddy’s eyes shone with such sympathy that he said, “We were poor, and I couldn’t earn enough money to keep us warm and fed.” He didn’t know why he’d told her that. He’d never spoken of it to anyone other than Blythe. “I watched her waste away in front of me. I sent Blythe out every day to sell flowers so that she wouldn’t have to watch her die.”
“Oh, Gabriel.” She touched his cheek before simply laying her head back on his chest. “You’ve been protecting people all your life, haven’t you?”
“I’ve tried.” He didn’t say more. To say that he’d failed would invite more conversation, more revelations, and he’d already said more than he’d intended. And yet, a lightness touched him now.
They lay in silence for a long time, and Freddy traced her fingers back and forth over his chest as heaviness creeped into his limbs and his eyes closed.
“Gabriel?”
He struggled to make himself open his eyes, but when he looked to her, she was staring up at him with a hopeful look. “I’d like to start every morning like this, doing what we did earlier, exactly as we did it.”
She wanted him to say she could stay, but if he said that, he’d be lost to how she made him feel. There was no way he could keep her out if she was here every day. He wasn’t even sure he was keeping her out now. His heart took on a different cadence when she was near, but he couldn’t say the words she wanted to hear. Not yet.
Instead, he reached over and stroked a hand down her cheek. “You were right, and I was wrong.”
Her brows dipped in confusion. “About what?”
“You’re most definitely a Freddy.”
For Freddy, the next month went by in a blur of secret meetings with Blythe and Huntley where they relentlessly went over every detail of what could go wrong if and when Hawk agreed to meet her. She also had daily lessons from Gabriel before he’d leave for the club each morning and stay there all day. Freddy didn’t love that, but at least he was returning home at night before she fell asleep.
