Page 100 of Lord of Fortune
He looked momentarily confused, his brows pitching over his eyes before realization struck and his pupils narrowed. “You want to be my wife.”
She nodded, unable to speak as emotion poured through her.
He lifted his hands to her face and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, dragging them down to her lips where they met in the center. She opened her mouth and drew them inside, her tongue sliding over the thick pads.
He inhaled sharply as his lids drooped. He pushed one thumb farther inside. She closed her lips around him and sucked hard. He slipped his free hand around to the back of her neck and began pulling pins from her hair. When the mass was loose around her face, she relinquished his thumb. And he immediately replaced it with his mouth.
The kiss was rough and desperate, a perfect expression for how she felt inside. If she couldn’t have this night with him—just one more time in his arms—she thought she might perish.
She wouldn’t, of course, and even thinking such melodrama was the height of idiocy. But she was helpless. He’d talked of her future, and right now, it was a dark, hazy unknown. Tonight, she wanted light and comfort, to bask in the knowledge of what she knew to be true—that Penn was the only man she’d ever loved, and the only man she ever would.
He explored her mouth with deep thrusts of his tongue and excited her with nips and sucks, tugging on her lower lip until she gasped with want. Then he began to strip his clothes away with great urgency. She helped, untying his cravat and unbuttoning his waistcoat.
She still wore her riding habit, which she’d put on after returning to the inn in Glastonbury. It, like the gown she’d brought and worn to Thaddeus’s cottage, could be donned and removed without the assistance of a maid. Since, of course, she’d left Culley at Hollyhaven.
When he went to the chair to remove his boots, she unbuttoned her jacket and tugged her arms free of the snug-fitting garment. After hanging it on a hook, she began to unfasten her skirt.
Penn had returned, clad only in his shirt and breeches. “Let me,” he murmured, covering her hands with his and working, effortlessly, to remove her skirt.
He helped her step from the fabric, then hung it on the hook with her jacket.
She drew her shirt over her head, and once more, he provided assistance. Again, he took great care with her clothing, hanging it up with the rest.
“You could be a ladies’ maid,” she said.
“Only yours.” He drew her against his chest and renewed their kiss. This time was gentler, slower. They took their time studying each other’s reactions and offering up new methods to drive the other to distraction.
She pulled away to tug his shirt up over his head. When she made to hang it on the hook beside hers, he said, “You needn’t take the same care with my things.”
She hung the garment and gave him a saucy stare. “I’m doing what a wife ought.”
“Amelia.” The word was part growl of desperation and part heartfelt plea.
She knew what he wanted. She wanted it too.
They moved more quickly, removing the rest of their clothing until they were bare to the other. He stared at her a long moment, as if he were memorizing every inch of her flesh. She thought so, because that was what she was doing to him. From the muscular plane of his shoulder to the flat expanse of his abdomen to the jut of his shaft to the slope of his thigh, she would remember him always.
She lunged for him, unable to be apart from him for another moment. He caught her against him, kissing her soundly as he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. It wasn’t far, and he laid her gently on the mattress before climbing up beside her.
She turned on her side and they lay facing each other. He stroked her collarbone and trailed his fingertips down to her bicep before cupping her breast. Sensation bloomed from his caress, making her breasts feel heavy and her sex pulse.
He lowered his head and licked at her nipple, softly at first, then he closed around her and sucked, just as she’d done to his thumb. She gasped and thrust her fingers into his hair, holding him to her. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. She clung to the moment, to the sensation, to Penn.
His mouth didn’t leave her, but his hand traveled down her side, leaving a trail of heat and want until he found her sex. He stroked along her folds, but their positions didn’t allow for her to open her legs. And she wanted to feel him inside her.
Pushing on his shoulder, she flattened him to his back and rolled on top of him. As she rose up, he was forced to relinquish her breast. He stared up at her with curiosity and intense desire.
“You seem to have a plan of your own.”
“Not particularly.” She’d never been on the top, but she knew it was done. “You’ll have to show me.” She straddled his hips and moaned as soon as his cock grazed her sex.
“Are you certain? You seem to be doing quite well on your own.”
She’d closed her eyes briefly, but now opened them again to see what she should do. He watched her, his eyes slitted, as he clasped her hips.
“It’s not all that different from riding a horse,” he said.
A laugh spilled from her lips in spite of the intensity of the moment. “I should hope it is. I don’t ever plan to ride a horse without clothing.”
