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There had been a sense of ache, of craving deep in her jaw for so long she had forgotten it was there, but the kiss satisfied it in a way no cake ever could. She could barely savor each brush of his lips for each time she received, she only wanted more.
How silly it had been of her to worry for years that she would never know the proper way to kiss, how naturally it came to the pair of them, to drag her teeth over his lip, to push forward and recede as he returned the motion to her. It reminded her so entirely and abstractly of a wave, a current that broke upon the beach, to withdraw coyly before meeting the sand again, to break, and break, and break...
The familiar feeling of lightheadedness starting to creep up over her was what made her break the kiss. She had dove into the kiss with all she had, and no thought to ever stop.
Diane wasn’t sure when they had turned around, but when she stumbled back a few inches to breathe, her shoulders met the bark of a tree.
The suddenness of the kiss had ambushed her, and when they parted, she wasn’t altogether sure where it had left them.
Diane blinked several times. Liam, the man she couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with for more than a moment, who held himself in a standoffish and unreachable manner, had kissed her.
Though she watched Liam’s chest rise and fall with heavy breaths, the way his mouth was red and kiss-swollen, it seemed somehow, quite inexplicable.
Just as inexplicable as why he wanted to stop her wedding, why he had gotten in the carriage with her, why a joke about them getting married would upset him.
She blinked a few more times, and finally saw the way he was looking at her.
Oh.
A new wave of heat stole up her skin, retracing everywhere his hands had held her, where his body had pressed to hers, and everywhere her body wanted to be touched.
It seemed almost impossible to conceive, that all this time she had been trying not to lust after him, he had felt similarly towards her.
She had never suspected. In all her careful eyeing, looking at only a piece of him at a time, she had clearly overlooked something she wouldn’t ever have been prepared to see.
Now that she looked up and held his gaze, his eyes were dark with want.
Diane swallowed. No one had ever looked at her like that before. There was no trace of crooning pity for the unfortunate girl with the weak constitution.
She flattened her back against the wide tree trunk behind her.
This was happening. This was really, truly happening. If all went happily, she was going to be ruined shortly.
And thoroughly.
This time she would steel herself better: the thought of any ruinous act with Liam would no longer cause her to faint, she had decided. At least, she hoped there would be no more fainting. She didn’t want to interrupt this moment for anything less than a hurricane.
And until then, she was going to enjoy herself.
Diane stood on her tiptoes, putting an arm around his neck, her hands tangling in his long hair, messing it up again. She surged into another kiss, claiming and coaxing him closer to her.
Their second kiss quickly blended into their tenth kiss. Then there was the first time his hands found the curve of her bottom, the first time she could touch his chest as much as she wanted, the first embrace that had the blood rushing to her nethers in an ever-increasing need to be touched. Soon it became too much to count firsts, only explore further and further. There was only half a thought to wonder if she was doing any of it right, a worry pushed to the side with how good it felt to do as she wanted.
“We shouldn’t,” Liam groaned, breaking away, as if his cravat wasn’t undone and his vest unbuttoned from her eager exploring.
Diane glanced to the garden entrance. Narrow as it was, the entrance was not as good as a locked door and a private room. “Because anyone could see us?”
Even as she said it, the thought was its own kind of thrill, furthering her own arousal.
Liam shook his head, hesitating. “I can’t be the one to ruin your future.”
“I’ve already ruined it myself,” Diane said back, pausing only to cup his face in her hands, bringing him to look at her. “And I can’t begin to tell you how much I’ve wanted...”
Diane trailed off. There was too much behind that thought— every glance at Liam she had stolen, every time she had touched herself late at night and tried to imagine a hand other than her own, every time she’d despaired that her husband would think her unable to have a proper marriage.
She swallowed. Perhaps it was enough to say, “I’ve wanted.”
Liam clasped a hand around hers, leaning into her palm, his eyes warm and soft. He let her pull him into another kiss, soft at first. It quickly grew more fervent, and when she was too breathless to kiss he drew his mouth along her neck, her jaw, her collar.
