Rose huffed a laugh. “That would be my mother.”
Thomas stilled, slowly releasing her, his expression grim but bemused. “So maybe I’ll hold off on the coach whip,” he muttered. “But she’s wrong and damned wrong.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, brushing away some of the tears. “I wanted your first time to be comfortable, with mounds of pillows, without the rush of a clandestine meeting in an office. In a special place—”
“My own place.”
“Yes.”
“Like an apartment.”
His eyes narrowed. “What apartment?”
“My special place,” Rose repeated, trying to keep her shaking voice even. “Like an apartment you would arrange for me.”
Thomas took a step backward, his eyes widening in recognition. He rubbed one hand over his mouth. “Dear God in heaven, no wonder you slapped me.” He shook his head a moment. “So my offer the next day—”
“Was startling.”
A grin flashed across his face. “No doubt.” He closed the distance again, taking both her hands in his. “Dearest Rose. I meant Newbury Hall. Your ownhousehold. As mywife. In my own idiotic way, I was trying to propose to you. To save our first time together—your first time—for our wedding night.”
“I may have never been with a man, but I’m not a blushing debutante either. I did not want to wait.” She swallowed hard. “I wanted you. I want you.”
Thomas searched her eyes, then released her hands. He shook his head once, then with a sudden lunge, he scooped Rose up in his arms, curling her against his chest.
*
Rose squeaked asThomas snatched her up, throwing her arms around his neck for security. “Hold on tight.” He relished the feel of her body against his. While she was not a rail-thin debutante, he held her easily and she fit neatly against him.
Rose growled. “Thomas, put me down!”
He grinned as he headed for the stone bench. “No.”
“I’m too heavy. Put me down!”
“You are not heavy. Stop saying that.” He sat down on the bench, snuggling her onto his lap. Shifting her slightly, he leaned his right arm, which was around Rose’s back, against the armrest of the bench. His left hand tucked her hips against him, then he moved it to cup her jaw and turn her face to his. “Look at me, Rose.”
She did, her arms still around his shoulders. “I do not want to hurt you.” Her words held less stridence, more affection.
“You will not. I am more healed than not.” His thumb stroked her cheek. “You want to be with me as much as I want to be with you. Yet it has felt as if the entire world has conspired to keep us apart. And it’s still doing so. I want one afternoon to be ours, and I think you do too, or you would never have brought me here.”
She nodded, pressing her face into his palm, and Thomas thought his chest might burst from the flush of desire he had for her. He shifted slightly as his arousal moved south, his erection swelling against her buttocks. His lips brushed hers once... twice. The third time he tugged on her lower lip with his teeth, stroking it with the tip of his tongue. A quiet mewl sounded in the back of her throat, and Thomas deepened the kiss, his mouth parting, his tongue dipping between her lips.
Rose curled her fingers into his hair as she arched up against him, pressing her breasts against his chest. Her mouth opened and he sought his fill, exploring deeply as his hand slipped down, his fingers gliding along the length of her neck to the edge of her bodice. The modest cut of her day gown hid her breasts, but he cupped the outside, his thumb grazing over the tip. He could feel her nipple peak through the cloth, and he pinched it between his fingertips. Her hips twisted, her legs parting beneath her skirts.
Thomas paused in his explorative kiss to whisper. “Will you let me touch you?”
Her smile held a languid sensuality. “I thought a rake didn’t ask.”
“A rake may not ask his mistress. He does ask his wife.”
Rose’s eyes darkened with desire. “Wife.”
He kissed the tender skin beneath her ear. “You will be mine.” His left hand drifted down below her hip, where he began to gather pull her skirt up, slowly exposing her calf. His fingers slid beneath the layers of fabric, tracing gentle patterns on her silk-covered thigh. She watched his face, her mouth slightly parted, as his hand moved up toward the heat of her core. Her breathing grew shallow and rapid as one finger, then two, found the opening in her drawers and pushed the cloth aside. He stroked the skin beneath softly, his fingertips pressing within, slowly opening and exploring the tender, moist folds.
Rose’s eyes fluttered shut and she moaned, her hips tilting up, pressing into his hand. He watched a blush spread over her chest and neck as he drew firm circles around her entrance, steadily increasing the pressure, finally slipping one finger, then two inside. With a breathless groan, her back arched and her head leaned back as he spread her, adding a third finger to his rhythmic thrusts. Her entire body tensed and began to shiver.
That’s when he pressed his thumb over the taut, swollen bud at the top of her sex. Rose jerked hard, her eyes flying open as he stroked her. “Thomas!” Her hands clutched his shoulders, as if holding on for dear life, as her hips bucked hard against his hand.
“I have you. I will not let you fall. Let it take you.”
