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He ruthlessly lowered his head, plundering her mouth and feasting. It was a cold hard cynical kiss, one designed to punish her for refusing his invitation.
With only a token protest, she opened her mouth under his and allowed her body to tell him all the things she didn’t dare. The kiss that started harshly became softer and more seductive, seeking rather than demanding.
She moaned in the back of her throat and squirmed against his body, seeking relief from the desire which was now raging out of control in her body.
‘I want you,’ he rasped in her ear. ‘I want to enjoy you when I want to, not rushing around and hiding from prying eyes. That is the only reason I asked. Most of all I want you. Right here and right now.’
His lips trailed down her neck, making a fiery pathway. Pleasure rippled through her body as his hand roamed at will, sliding down her curves and caressing her over the heavy cloth. She silently wished that she hadn’t taken such pains at dressing this morning.
As if he could read her mind, he reached down and bunched the skirt. His hand slipped under her skirts and parted her drawers, finding her moist core. His finger slipped in, stroked and played.
‘I want you, too,’ she said between gasps. A delicious vista opened before her. He’d always taken the lead in their love-making, but this time she wanted to be the one to be in control and in charge. ‘I’m no longer a novice, but an expert. Allow me to ride you.’
Her hands slipped down his body and unbuttoned his trousers. His erection sprang free. She clasped it in her hand, feeling the velvet hardness. As he stroked her, she stroked him back, both of them using their hands to give each other pleasure.
‘I don’t know how much longer I can last.’ He eased her down amongst the high grass. ‘Ride me, Harriet. Ride me now.’
He lay back on the ground and she positioned herself above him, straddling his body. The moist tip of him nudged the apex of her thighs. She spread her leg wider.
Using her hand, she guided him to the very centre and slowly impaled herself. Rode him, controlling the movement. Up and down, going at her pace as he lay underneath her. She enjoyed the feeling of power, of bringing them to the brink and then slowing it down.
The weeks of riding had honed her muscles and she used them now to give him pleasure. Faster and faster until the wave crested, then crested again. Finally when she knew she could take no more, she clasped her arms around him and held him as he came to a shuddering climax deep within her, so deep it seemed like his seed was spilling directly into her womb. They were together, joined.
Chapter Twelve
Much later when they lay entwined in each other’s arms, Kit smoothed her hair from her forehead. It amazed him that he once thought Harriet had no passion within her. His desire for her had grown rather than diminished. ‘You are definitely an expert rider, now.’
‘No longer in need of lessons? I think I have learnt lots about being wicked.’ She stretched her arms above her head. ‘It has been absolutely delicious.’
His heart gave an unexpected pang. Lessons in wickedness? Was that all she considered this? He knew they had agreed that it would be a summer’s affair, but he had discovered that he wanted it to continue into the autumn and beyond. The thought shocked him. ‘No more lessons. The pupil has outshone the master.’
‘I shall take it as a compliment.’ She moved her arm and Kit heard a faint tear. She wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh, dear. More sewing.’
‘I fear our exertions have ruined your dress.’
She pulled away slightly. ‘It will mend and if Mrs Hampstead questions it, I will say that I acquired it riding. It is not less than the truth.’
A cold stab of fear went through Kit. ‘Has she questioned you before?’
‘No harm will come from today, I promise,’ she said, pulling her sleeve a bit and rearranging the material so the tear didn’t show as easily. ‘Mrs Hampstead will not enquire too closely. She never does. Discretion rules all. We are safe.’
Safety. He rolled over onto his back, moving away from her. His body protested at the sudden space. He wanted to linger and relax in her arms. He wanted her to go away with him, but she had refused and it still hurt. Staying here was the worst of all possible worlds.
‘There is always a chance of a slip. What then?’ He forced his voice to be cold. ‘A forced marriage? You know my feelings about marriage.’
‘There won’t be.’ Her cheeks stained bright red. ‘I’ve been careful.’
