Page 61 of Mending the Baron's Sins
“Lay down,” he pleaded.
She did as he instructed, laying back on the bed, her dark hair spilling around her shoulder on the bedsheet. He bent over her, offering her one deep kiss before he moved down her body, kissing her neck and the open neckline of her chemise. He evennipped the inside of her breast, making her writhe in pleasure as an ache started between her legs. It was an ache that would only be satisfied by his touch.
He moved across her hip, then took hold of the chemise and, in one swift movement, flipped it up over her hips. She was shaking now for the want of the feeling, tipping her head back on the sheet and concentrating on his fingers.
They explored her hip and her stomach, then down to her legs. He took hold of her thigh and parted her legs, his hot breath hovering over her center. She leaned up on her elbows, watching him in fascination of what he was going to do next.
“Trust me?” he whispered, waiting, and not quite touching her yet, though he looked at her.
“You know I do.”
He smiled at her answer, then bent down.
The first touch she knew from a man was Horace’s kisses on her damp curls. He found her center, his tongue toying with the nerves there. The sudden and shocking pleasure was so enthralling, she couldn’t stay still on the bed. She writhed, her hands pulling at the bedsheets over her head. Horace had raised her thigh up over his shoulder, giving him full access to her as he entered her with his tongue.
He moved faster and faster, those kisses so strong that all she could think about was him and this pleasure. Nothing beyond that door mattered or even existed at this moment, just so long as he kept exploring her.
One of his hands moved from her thigh. His fingers slid up to where they were connected, toying with her, then suddenly, one finger slipped inside of her. It reached a part of her that she had only discovered existed late at night when she let her own hands wander over her body. Yet with Horace doing it, that feeling was much more intense.
He pumped his finger faster, soon replacing it with two, making her feel fuller every minute. He kept kissing outside of her, sending her body wild in pleasure.
She thrashed her head to the side; the pleasure peaking higher and higher as she realized she was ascending to some great height that had before seemed impossible to reach. He seemed to sense it in her, for he moved faster, his body curling over hers in his determination to pleasure her.
Then his hand moved a little to a new angle, and his wet open-mouthed kisses on her body drove her over the edge. She bucked in surprise as a cascading feeling crashed over her. She bit down on the bedsheets beside her head, determined not to cry aloud, despite her body’s longing to shout his name at the pleasure.
He kept moving throughout her wave, never once stopping in his pleasure building. When her body quivered, slowly coming down from its height, he eventually released her. He moved back up the bed, planting his hands on either side of her head and bending toward her, kissing her.
She could taste herself on him, though it only aroused her more. She wrapped her arms and one leg around, feeling his hardness pressed to his trousers. He moaned into the kiss before pulling back an inch.
“That is a taste of pleasure, Orla,” he whispered. “Believe me.” His eyes fluttered closed with temptation. “There is so much more I want to do, but I will not… I would not risk you in that way.”
He is avoiding getting me with child.
The care and kindness of such a resolution, despite their clear longing for each other, only made her heartbeat for him all the more.
“If that is just a taste,” she murmured breathy, “wow.”
He smiled with her and bent down to kiss her again.
Chapter 18
Horace outstretched a hand across the bed, but all he felt were the warm sheets. His eyes shot open, and he sat up at once, looking around the chamber.
She’s gone.
Orla was nowhere to be seen, but when he felt the sheets where she had laid, they were still warm. She couldn’t have long left his chamber.
Sighing heavily, he sat back against the bedhead, pulling the covers up around his body. He was tired now, yawning heavily, and he feared he might have pushed himself too much the night before, but he could not regret what he had done.
Pleasuring Orla, listening to her breathy gasps, had to be the most sensual and satisfying experience of his life. He just wished she had still been here when he had woken up. They could have talked through what they had done. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel this guilt swirling in his stomach.
He waited until a wave of exhaustion had passed, then reached for some water left on the table beside the bed. It was another of Orla’s mixtures. He downed the whole thing, leaving the bottle of laudanum untouched that Colm had left here on his last visit.That bottle had been sitting in the same place, untouched for over a week now.
Horace pulled on his trousers and his shirt, then reached for the bell pull. He was an inch from taking hold of the rope when someone knocked at the door.
“Horace? Horace! Are you awake?” Lavinia asked through the door.
He dropped his hand from the bell pull, frustrated to have his aim to see Orla again so thwarted.
