Page 54 of Pursuing Mr. Mattingly

“Proper, I’ve found, is much overrated,” he murmured and slipped a hand up her spine to tangle in her hair.

“Indeed.” This time, she initiated the kiss, and all too soon the embrace grew heated. Over and over, she plundered his mouth, sought out his tongue with hers, for that thrust and parry of a French-style kiss was one of her favorite things to do with a man.

Oliver, as was his wont, refused to be a passive participant in any of their embraces. He broke the kiss merely to drag his lips down the side of her throat. When he followed the cut of her bodice, she trembled in his hold, and with a smug chuckle, he took one of her taut nipples into his mouth and worried it through the thin fabric of her dress. The other he rubbed and rolled until her back arched and she writhed from his erotic attentions.

“It’s unseemly for a woman my age to enjoy carnal relations this much,” she managed to gasp out as her head lolled onto one shoulder. The evidence of his desire rubbed against her center, and it only served to ramp her need.

“Nonsense.” He delved a hand beneath her skirting and seconds later, those questing fingers were between her splayed thighs to play at her sensitive button. A chuckle left his throat when she uttered a moan mixed with a sigh and curled her fingers into his lapel. “Physical pleasures can—and should—be enjoyed at any age. And if I had the honor of growing old with you, I could guarantee we would have indulged long after our hair turned gray.”

With a tiny cry, she claimed his mouth in a savage kiss while he continued to rub that nubbin for all he was worth. It took next to no time for her to fall over the edge into bliss with a soft-pitched cry; perhaps that spoke to his skill or the fact that she enjoyed these times all too much, or perhaps her body, changing as it grew older, was more inclined to hit release sooner.

It mattered not, and temporarily she went blind and deaf as waves of sensation rushed over her. Finally, Sophia sagged into his chest, and as his arms once more went around her as he held her close. The race of her heart, the sudden strike of heat that enveloped her body, the contractions that rocked her core all worked into ushering her into a state of exhaustion where she wanted nothing more than to lie down and rest.

No doubt the end was drawing near, but now, in this one moment, she didn’t care, for she had Oliver and he had her.

Eventually, she stirred. “Shall I return the favor?” Teasing him beyond the edge was another of her favorite things.

“Not just yet.” He pressed a kiss to her damp forehead. “We both know that Hannah will return shortly, and I’d rather not appear in such a scandalous position.”

That tugged a smile from her. Already, he doted on the child. “Then tonight.”

“Most definitely.” His grin was dazzling as she eased from his lap and into a standing, though wobbly, stance.

“Good.” A sense of lightheadedness plagued her, but with a shake of her head and a few practice steps, the feeling passed. Worry knotted in her belly. How many days—hours—did she have left to her? “Since I’m overheated, I’m going to stand at the creek’s edge, perhaps splash some water on my chest and face. Then we’ll do justice to Cook’s picnic.”

“Be mindful, love. It would only take one misstep for you to have a fall.”

“I will.” Good heavens, the heat on her skin made her want to rip off her clothes and jump into the waters merely to cool herself. Couple that with the unrelenting exhaustion that had steadily built over the last handful of months, and it became something of a concern. Where they the final symptoms of her diseased heart? Was that what her father had felt shortly before his demise? With those thoughts floating through her mind, Sophia moved to the creek’s edge.

Hannah, please come back soon. I want to see you one last time before I go.

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