Page 44 of Twelve Drummers Drumming

This was too much, too much pleasure surely that one person could experience. His teeth grazed her nipple, and she almost shouted out in desire. Where they were was forgotten, what was expected of them was forgotten—there was only this experience, this moment, this paradise.

Releasing her breasts, Hugh returned to her mouth, demanding her tongue with his own, worshipping her as his hands moved to her hips, adjusting their position so that they met with his.

It was impossible for Jemima to ignore the pooling of heat moving toward her secret place, and a dark longing was starting to build there.

She recognized it. It was the same desperation she had felt last night with Hugh’s hardness between her thighs and his fingers stroking her secret place.

She did not understand it, but she welcomed it, all the same, giving herself entirely to Hugh and the incredible joy he drew from her.

Unbidden, untaught, Jemima drew one of her legs up and over Hugh, and he moaned in her mouth. The kiss became, if possible, more passionate, and Jemima reached for his shirt, desperately trying to pull it off, yearning for more contact than she was already given.

Madness, she thought wildly. It was madness coursing through her veins, not blood—surely that could be the only reason why she was unable to contain the way she felt about Hugh every waking moment she was around him.

The fierceness of his face, the fiery stare he so frequently fixed upon her; there was no one his equal, no one she had ever encountered before who even started to compare.

Hugh broke their kiss and wrenched his shirt off over his head in one fluid motion.

“Are you ready for this?” he said, his voice jagged in the quiet of the room. “Because there is no going back from this, Jemima. Once you have experienced this, there is no going back.”

“I have no wish to go back,” she said, panting with desire. “I want you.”

Hugh smiled, and the ache between her legs grew urgent.

“Now, Hugh,” she said, reaching for him, “I want you now.”

He needed no other invitation. Moving down once more above her, Hugh returned to satiate his appetite for her breasts, Jemima’s eyes closing in uncontrolled pleasure.

But Hugh was doing so much more than that. Jemima was not consciously aware of it, too busy delighting in the adoration of his lips, but his hands moved slowly toward his breeches, unbuttoning them to release—

“Hugh,” Jemima said weakly, “Hugh, what are you—oh!”

Her voice was suddenly cut off by the movement of his hand from the outside of her thigh to the inside. His hand rested there, her thigh quivering under the unexpected touch.

Jemima squirmed slightly, but Hugh kept his hand still, her movements not distracting enough to stop him from kissing her neck.

“Hugh…” Jemima moaned. She wanted more, so much more—she wanted what he had given her last night. She was already enjoying more sensuality than she could ever have dreamed of. Surely there could not be more intimacy than this?

Hugh’s hand was no longer static; instead, it moved gently up her thigh until Jemima shouted out as unexpected jolts of pure lust sparked from the fingers that had lightly brushed over her curls.

“Oh, Hugh,” she whimpered, arching her back so he could take in more of her breasts, trying to keep her bottom still so she did not interrupt whatever glorious thing he was doing with his hand.

“Hush,” Hugh lifted his face so that he could look into her eyes, “I am about to take you somewhere you have never been before. Just lie back and enjoy this.”

Jemima nodded, but it was difficult not to cry out as his fingers once more brushed the warm and sensitive skin in her secret place.

“Oh, God, Jemima, you are so wet.” He dropped his head as if overcome.

Jemima did not have the breath to answer him. All she could do was lie back as instructed. His fingers circled around her heat, becoming wet from her, then soft strokes became harder, stronger, more rhythmic. Jemima twisted her hips as she felt herself starting to be carried away by something deep inside her, and Hugh smiled.

“I love you,” he said, and then he spoke not one word more, dropping his mouth to her breasts.

Taking a nipple into his mouth, he tortured her. The combination of his mouth exploring her breast and returning to her mouth whenever her cries grew too great, and his hand moving steadily over and into her secret place…it was causing her whole body to be flooded with pleasure as she had never known.

It was too much surely—and yet with each passing moment the pleasure grew. She was nearing something, something akin to the peak she had felt yesterday, and though she was desperate to get there, she wanted to enjoy the journey just as much.

“Hugh,” she moaned wildly, “Hugh, I love you!”

But he had no reply for her, unless she counted the sudden increase in speed. He seemed unable to stop himself, and Jemima was glad because the hot pooling feeling descending to her secret place was starting to make her vision darken.

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