Page 60 of Mending the Baron's Sins
“This way.” He pulled on her hand again. They shot out of the back of the rotunda, through a door much smaller than the front one. They hesitated in the darkness, hidden behind the pillars of the building until they were certain that George and Esther had crept into the building. Then Horace pulled on Orla’s hand another time. They ran across the garden together on their toes, trying not to make a sound.
They burst back into the house through a side door, the two of them laughing together softly.
“Shh,” he urged, though he still laughed himself as he closed the door.
“I cannot help it,” she whispered. “Aye, I’m too happy.”
“I know what you mean.” He laughed and walked out of the room, still holding onto Orla’s hand, for she could not think of letting go. “Well, maybe I am wrong. Maybe George and Esther are about to give into temptation after all.”
“Do you think?” Orla halted and glanced back, biting her lip. Her curiosity piqued and a heat shot through her. How she would love to know what such an experience would feel like.
“Ah, the curiosity,” he whispered, turning back to face her. “Have you never had a taste of it, Orla? Never had a taste of being made love to.” He linked their fingers together.
“Never,” she murmured, now utterly breathless as she stared at him. “But you… well, I’ve heard you have had much experience.”
“Nothing wrong with an experienced lover, is there?” he said with a self-mocking laugh. “At least I know a way to please a woman.”
“And what would you do?” she begged to know. “If… if you had not made me that promise the other day in the cemetery.”
“Orla,” he said her name in a deep tone. “Don’t tempt me.”
“You could just… tell me.” She couldn’t stop herself now. She longed to know. All walls between them seemed to have come down in this clandestine meeting. “What would you do?” She stepped toward him as he did her, turning his lips down to hers.
“I’d make sure you had your pleasure. I’d adore every inch of your body.” His eyes wandered up and down her body, but he did not touch her. That look alone made a wet feeling spread between her legs. “I’d make sure you were dithering with the want of a release before I gave it to you, perhaps not pleasuringyou with my hand, but this… instead.” He had paused longed enough to lift his hand to his own lips.
“Oh.” She gasped. “My Lord–”
“Horace. My name is Horace, Orla.”
“Horace,” she whispered, the two of them leaning toward one another. “Show me. Please.” Her voice shook with the want of it.
He blinked, and for a second, she was sure he was going to say no. Her chest ached, fearing his rejection, then he lifted their hands that were connected. He turned her hand over and kissed the inside of her wrist, the softest and most fleeting of touches, their gazes maintaining a connection at all times.
“I’d give you anything you ask of me,” he whispered against her skin, then turned.
He towed her through the house, their hands still connected. On the back staircase, they walked up the edge of the steps, trying to avoid making any sound at all. As they reached the landing, he moved faster, pulling her all the way to his chamber.
Once inside, the fire had burnt down to soft embers in their grate. It was the only light in the room, though he sought to correct that. He pushed the door shut and lit another candle, placing it on the mantelpiece, and then turned toward her,taking her waist in his hands. That simple touch alone made her stomach flip excitedly.
“You can stop me,” he whispered. “At any time, stop me.” He almost pleaded with her to do so, but she had no intention of stopping him.
“We both want to know more, don’t we?” she asked.
He closed the distance between them. His kiss was sudden and strong, reminding her what it had been like to feel his lips on her before in that carriage. There was no hesitation at all as they took hold of one another. His fingers splaying across her waist as her hands gripped the shoulders of his frock coat.
He bit her bottom lip playfully, and she parted her lips, giving him full access to her. He dominated her mouth, so strongly that she was soon trembling with wanting to know more of this feeling. She pulled at his frock coat, trying to tear it from him.
He released her just enough to pull the coat off, though he didn’t stop kissing her, then he reached for her gown, unlacing it at her back quickly. The laces knotted in his frenzy to get access to her, and they pulled apart, laughing together at their own impatience.
When the knots were undone, he turned her around, so she was facing away, and he could slip the gown hurriedly down hershoulders and arms. He teased her with more touches all the way, kissing the back of her shoulder and her neck.
He took hold of her stays next and untied those laces, flinging the corset away across the room. The passion with which he moved, the speed, made Orla feel utterly desired. She wished to be consumed completely by the fire that he was creating in her.
When she was in nothing but her chemise, he backed her up toward the bed. She was still pulling at his waistcoat, desperate to get more access to him. She fell back onto the bed, just as he reached for the waistcoat. He tore it off his body, popping some of the buttons out of place, then reached for his shirt next, tugging it over his head and throwing it to the side.
Breathless, Orla reached up toward him.
He was regaining strength all the time. The pale beauty of his body was now coupled with an increasingly toned chest. She ran her fingers over him, admiring him, indulging in the way he tipped his head back and a moan escaped his lips. It was as though her touch intoxicated him, as much as his did to her.
