Page 30 of Hers By Summer’s End

His mouth twitched. “Perhaps.”

“Well, then. Allow me to be helpful.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice into a clear invitation. “I’d rather take you home with me.”

Giggles burst from Cecelia’s throat as she led Drew through the darkened foyer, moonlight guiding them to the spiral staircase.

“Quiet,” he admonished, so close on her heels that his breath stirred the hair at her nape. “I don’t want your mother to hear us.”

“She’s far away,” she whispered. Her hand glided along the polished banister as she turned, her cotton skirts rustling against his corduroy pants. Her hands found the great expanse of his chest, sliding over his pounding heart to link around his neck. “All this feels rather fantastical, wouldn’t you say?”

His hands encircled her and, at this new difference in their heights, settled around her hips. One hand rested across the swell of her bottom. He squeezed gently, and she gasped as lust turned her thighs to jelly.

“Entering your bedroom at night has indeed been one of my fantasies.”

His low rumble sent a delicious shiver down her spine. God, she wanted him. How absurd that a few weeks ago she had thought herself perfectly capable of resisting him, had determined they could never be more than rivals. She leaned down to press her lips to his, savoring his taste for an instant before pulling back.

“Let’s hurry,” she said unsteadily.

They rushed up the staircase, the thick carpet swallowing their footsteps, then down the hallway to her bedroom. The door swung open on silent hinges. They slipped inside, and the moment he was clear of the door, she shut it and turned the lock. She moved to her escritoire and lit the brass table lamp. For one suspended moment, Cecelia simply stood there.

Drew was in her bedroom, in the most private corner of her world. And he was there because she had asked him to come.

She followed his roving gaze, her pulse fluttering as he took in the intimate details of her bedroom. Her slippers beside the bed. Her cream silk dressing robe flung carelessly over the chaise lounge. The stack of botany textbooks on her escritoire, Barnes’ Plant Life bookmarked with a hairpin. The small porcelain bowl on her bedside table, cradling the petals he’d given her.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” he admitted. “I’m so incredibly happy to finally be here.”

Her eyes closed briefly, nearly undone by his words. “Remove your clothing,” she whispered. “I want to see you.”

His boater hit the floor before she’d finished speaking. His coat followed, then his vest and necktie. She watched with delight as the man who had become the center of her world revealed himself to her.

“You’d better start as well,” he said gruffly, his eyes burning as he picked open the buttons of his shirt. “Or I won’t be held responsible for any ripped seams.”

She plucked the pins from her hat and tossed it beside his. Then she undid her shirtwaist, sliding it free to reveal her corset cover. That, too, joined the growing heap on the floor, followed by her skirts and petticoats. She became increasingly aware of his eyes upon her. Not merely looking, but watching, an expression of awe on his face as if he could scarcely believe this was happening.

Then the last barriers fell away.

They stood naked before each other, utterly exposed, taking one another in. He was thick and powerful, broad in the chest and heavy through the thighs. His large frame pleased her; it mirrored her own. Her gaze slid down his padded abdomen to the nest of curls at his groin. His member was dark and thick and jutted toward her.

She took an unsteady step forward. She wanted him to plunge it deep inside her swollen, needy core. To make her moan and writhe on his girth, make her world shatter as he had already in the greenhouse.

“I need you,” she whispered, raising a hand that trembled. “Take the ache away.”

He lunged toward her, wringing forth a gasp as their bodies came into contact, his skin flushed and rougher than she’d expected. Her hands roved, learning the pattern of his body. He shivered beneath her touch, his grip tight on her hips. His prick was hot against her belly, and she rolled her hips, cradling him as best she could.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against her neck. “So wonderful. So…so everything.”

She guided them to her bed, the mattress dipping as they fell upon it. His legs tangled with hers as they found purchase in the slippery sheets. His lips rained kisses down her chest, reaching her pebbled nipples. The flat of his tongue swiped across one peak. She gasped, her head falling back.

“Do that again,” she breathed.

He took one aching nipple into his mouth and lashed it with his tongue. He rolled her other nipple between his fingers, each gentle pinch sending lightning bolts to her soaked core. Her legs moved restlessly.

“I want you inside me.”

He released her nipple with a wet pop and groaned. “I didn’t bring anything to prevent consequences.”

She fumbled for the handle of the drawer in her nightstand. She tugged it open, removing a package she’d bought the day after the greenhouse for just in case. She held the condom up. “Will this work?”

“Oh, thank Christ.” He levered himself up and opened the package with unsteady hands. She watched curiously as he eased the condom over his swollen girth. “I need to fuck you so badly.”