Page 64 of Indecently Daring

“Anything, anything.” He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, too lost in the moment. “Please.”

She laughed. The sound made the fine hair on the back of his neck prickle. His skin lit with anticipation as she dropped to her knees.

Harry stared down at her, dazed and out of his mind with desire, as she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cock.

“God forgive me,” he muttered, and then choked as he felt the touch of her tongue, hot and wet, and—

His eyes flew open as a voice reached them from deep within the house.

“Oh, don’t you worry, Mrs Hogget. You get back to your dough. Temperamental stuff, dough. I’ll find the vicar, don’t you trouble yourself. No doubt he’s busy writing a sermon or praying, something of the sort, but he’ll just have to put it aside to greet his soon-to-be mama-in-law.”

“Lud! Mama!” Alana squeaked, scrambling to her feet.

Panic gripped Harry. Every trace of arousal vanished instantly as he cursed himself for an idiot. He was about to be discovered in about as damning a position as there was by her bloody mother! This was divine retribution for taking advantage of his fiancée. The thought occurred to him that he’d not been the only one taking advantage, but he pushed that aside, too much of a gentleman to consider it. All thumbs, he struggled in vain to fasten his buttons, then snatched up his shirt to cover the fact they were only half done, just as the door opened.

There stood Mrs Bonnie Cadogan, regarding him—the parish vicar—entirely dishevelled, bare-chested, with his shirt fisted in his hands, and her daughter beside him, holding her dress closed. He could only imagine what she thought of him.

“Well,” the lady said. “I assumed as much when you disappeared, Alana. A good job I came ahead of your father, or a right to-do we’d have on our hands. Reverend Martin, I assume?”

“Mrs Cadogan,” Harry croaked, utterly mortified and ashamed. “I am so dreadfully sorry. I can only—”

The lady rolled her eyes. “Oh, do stop looking so horrified, dear. I was young once, and I’m not dead yet,” she added, giving Harry an appreciative once over that made him blush to the roots of his hair.

“Mama!” Alana protested.

Mrs Cadogan snorted with laughter. “Don’t you Mama me, you wicked girl. I’m the only thing that stands between you and your Papa this moment, so if you want to marry this handsome fellow before your father murders him, I suggest you put yourselves to rights and do it quick.”

There followed a few moments of frantic rearranging, both Alana and Harry burning with embarrassment as her mother turned her back to give them a bit of privacy. Once they were decent again, outwardly at least, Harry dared to speak.

“Thank you, Mrs Cadogan. I can’t imagine what you think of me.”

The lady looked around and smiled at him, and for all that Alana must favour her father and uncle in colouring and looks, it was an echo of her daughter’s smile, filled with warmth and mischief.

“I think my daughter is a very persuasive creature. She takes after me,” she added with a saucy wink that only made Harry blush harder. “I’ll ask your Mrs Hogget to bring us some tea for Mr Cadogan will be here soon, I suspect, and we’d best try our best to look like butter wouldn’t melt, hmm?”

The lady went out again in search of his housekeeper and Harry let out a breath.

“Oh, my word,” he said with feeling, turning to Alana, expecting to discover her looking equally mortified, only to see her go off in a peal of laughter. Harry stared as she gave in to hysteria.

“It’s not funny,” he exclaimed, a little outraged. “If she’d been a bit quieter, or a few moments later—”

Alana howled, clutching at her stomach. “Oh, H-Harry stop it, I c-can’t breathe,” she spluttered.

Harry scowled at her, and Alana caught sight of his face, which was apparently terribly funny, for she went off in whoops again.

“How you can find this amusing, I don’t know,” he grumbled.

“B-Because Mama knew,” she said, gasping for breath. “That’s why she was talking s-so loudly, to warn us.”

Harry considered this and realised she had a point. “You don’t think she hates me?”

“Oh, Harry,” Alana said fondly, moving to him and kissing his cheek. “If I love you, Mama will love you too.”

Harry’s breath caught. “You love me?” he repeated, hardly daring to believe the words.

“Harry Martin, I may not be a virginal bride, but I hope you don’t think I go about doing things like that with people I don’t love,” she said crossly.

“No! No, love, I only….” He huffed out a breath as he saw the devilry twinkling in her eyes. “Little wretch. You’re going to tie me up in knots, aren’t you?”