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“Oh, I don’t mind being your subject, lass. In fact, I rather like it. I can hardly resist kissing you when you’re writing so diligently on that clipboard. And you know what’s absolutely irresistible?” he murmured, running a hand down her hair and looking into her eyes. His tone was playful, but his eyes had turned blue.
“What’s that?” she whispered.
“When you check your watch and chastise me for being late.”
“You’re horrid!”
“Let me show you just how horrid, lass.”
He kissed her, and she couldn’t resist kissing him back, couldn’t resist moving closer to him so she was all but in his lap. His mouth teased and nipped and seduced her until she could barely catch her breath and every part of her body was on fire. She felt his hands on her legs, pushing her nightgown up and over her head, leaving her naked in his arms.
His mouth wandered then, tracing her shoulder and the slope of her breast. Then he laid her down and made her writhe when he kissed the flare of her hip and the sensitive inner flesh of her thigh. She opened for him immediately when he moved to kiss her sex, his tongue bringing her to climax almost too quickly. And as she lay, catching her breath, he stood and stripped off his clothing.
She watched him, enjoying the look of him in the sunlight—the broad chest and slim hips, the long legs, and that hard member jutting from between them.
“Do I frighten you?” he asked, catching the direction of her gaze. In response, she held out her arms.
He covered her with his body, his weight warm and welcome. He kissed her again, and she wrapped her legs about his waist. His manhood slid over her slick opening, and she arched to take it in. He held back.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m fine,” she said, running a finger down his cheek. He was so beautiful like this, his hair falling over his forehead and his gaze so intent on hers. “I want you, Callahan.”
He kissed her again and entered her slowly. “Tell me if I hurt you,” he said through clenched teeth.
But she didn’t feel pain. This time was different than the last. She knew to relax, to take him in, to move with him. He moved slowly, sliding deep and angling his hips until he found the point at which she gasped in pleasure.
“There?” he murmured.
“Yes.” Her fingers dug into his back as his muscles bunched with the control it took to move so deliberately. Her legs tightened on him, and she looked into his eyes and found his locked on hers.
She loved him. She felt it more in this moment than she ever had, and yet she knew she couldn’t say it. Not with words. So she said it with her body. She found his rhythm and copied it, she pulled him close, she sighed his name right before her body soared with another climax.
He exhaled sharply and moved deeper, allowing her body to take what she wanted. When she sighed with contentment, his hands fisted in the sheets beneath her.
“Forgive me,” he said and thrust hard several times then pulled out and spent himself, the warm seed pooling on her belly. He rolled off her and tried to catch his breath, his hands still roaming her body almost absently. “I don’t even have the words for that,” he said, his voice gravelly. “I barely have the strength to rise and clean you.”
She smiled at him. “I don’t want you to move. Stay right here.” She kissed him, and his tongue tangled with hers lazily. Then he pulled away and rose.
“Don’t move. Hold that thought.” He poured water into the basin and wet a towel. She admired his taut buttocks as he stood at the washstand. He brought the cloth to her, swabbed her belly then cleaned himself. A moment later he was beside her again, pulling her into his arms.
“Now what?” she asked, her hand exploring the breadth of his chest.
“Don’t tempt me, lass. Move your hand much lower, and I might get ideas.”
Her hand slid to his belly. “What sorts of ideas?”
“The sort you will most definitely enjoy.”
***
WHEN HE FINALLY SLEPT, heavy and warm beside her, she lay awake and stared at the expanse of blue visible through the porthole. He hadn’t lied. Her entire body was still thrumming with the pleasure he’d given her. She felt loose and content, but she didn’t want to sleep. For the moment, he was hers alone. All too soon they would be back at The Farm, and then he’d no longer be hers. He’d take his money and be gone. He’d never made her any promises, and she’d had no illusions.
And still she’d fallen in love with him. And it would hurt to let him go, but she couldn’t show it. She didn’t want his pity or his guilt. And since she couldn’t have his love, she’d take what he had given her and make this moment last as long as she could.
***
CAL HAD NO EXPERIENCE with horses or driving and not enough blunt left to hire a private coach at any rate, so he was open to the suggestion when Bridget suggested they take the mail coach to northwestern England.
