Earl of Sussex (Wicked Lords of London 0.50) - Page 22

The chemise sailed over her head and he made quick work of the rest of her clothing. She wasn’t even aware they were moving until her legs brushed the back of the bed. Shrugging off his own jacket and shirt, he lay her down. His lips once again kissing a trail across her body that left her blazing with heat. She whimpered and writhed, her body wanting more of him touching her, more contact within, deeper and stronger.

His fingers grasped her hips and then one of them floated to her inner thigh, reaching up and brushing her folds. Her hips bucked as his mouth continued to kiss lower.

Digging her fingers into his broad hard shoulders, she tried to think, attempted to reason out why they might not be as intimate as they could possibly be when his lips kissed between the juncture of her legs. A moan escaped her and her fingers dug into his hair as he brought her pleasure higher, until she could barely stand another moment and then it broke. She cried his name, her body twisting against him.

One of his hands still held her hip and he pressed kisses along her thigh. His voice was hoarse as he muttered. “Is that better, my love?”

“Mmmh,” she murmured. Her eyes drifting closed. The sun was just beginning to rise and she stroked his hair. “So good.”

He kissed his way back up her body as he chuckled. She sank into the mattress, a vision of being tucked into his side as they slept together. “I’m glad.”

As he moved to pepper her chest with kisses, she felt the hard press of his manhood against her leg. That was when she realized, she had found release but he hadn’t. He wasn’t denying her pleasure, only himself. Why? Was he afraid? Worried his feelings would change once they had been intimate?

But she didn’t ask. Talking was for later.

His lips had reached the sensitive flesh of her ear and as he suckled it, he slid his body off to the side, taking her with him as he rolled, pressing her against him.

“I’ve dreamed of sleeping next to you,” he whispered.

Her hand came to his bare chest, and then it drifted lower. “You did?” She kissed one of the hard ridges along his abdomen. She pushed those feeling of inadequacy away. She wouldn’t do this out of fear, only love. She wanted to be close to him, to show him how she felt.

Then, ever so gently, she slipped her hand into his breeches. She didn’t have to search far before velvety flesh met her fingertips.

His breath sucked in. “Tabbie,” he hissed.

“Pleasure isn’t just for me.” She loved him. She wanted to give him everything that he had given to her.

“I can wait. I’ve spent my life indulging. Now is the time for me to prove that I can give and not receive. I want that for you, Tabbie. I want to be the type of man who deserves your love.”

Her heart swelled with those words. “Love is best shared.” She wrapped her hand around his member because she was curious, but his sudden intake of breath told her he liked it too. “Now show me how to share with you.”

She watched his eyes narrow and dilate as he undid the laces of his breeches and pulled them down over his hips. His hand grasped hers and began a rhythmic movement that had them both panting with desire as their eyes locked. “Yes,” he groaned as she moved up and down his smooth skin, her hand barely fitting around his member. She wasn’t sure why, but the size of it excited her, left her more breathless, and before she thought about it, she slid down to place a kiss on its tip.

A moan ripped from his mouth, as his hand tangled in her hair. Sucking him deeper into her mouth, she relished the taste of him, the smell. The closeness it brought to pleasure him in this way.

His movements grew erratic as his breath heaved. And then he exploded, his seed filling her mouth. She wasn’t sure what she had expected but as she licked and sucked, nothing had ever felt more right.

She would have continued to worship him but his hand suddenly grasped her under the arms and hauled her up his body. “What was that?”

She gave him a grin as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I didn’t know it would be like that, but it was glorious. Will it be like that when we’re married?”

She felt him relax under her body and he tucked his head against her shoulder. “It will be even better.”

The journey to Gretna Green passed in languid bliss. They held each other, talked of the future, and of the past. Tabbie tried not to think of her family or what she left behind. Despite a strained relationship with her parents, she would miss them if they chose to cut her out of their lives. And her siblings? She loved them fiercely. Would they forgive her for leaving them?

She hadn’t had a choice. Well, actually she did have a choice, and she had made it. She wouldn’t look back now, but some of her old doubts continued creeping into her thoughts. The ones that worried Luke wouldn’t remain interested or faithful. And then where would she be without a family or a real husband?

But she pushed these doubts aside as she made her way down the plank, or at least she tried to. It was too late to change anything. She’d made her choice.

Besides, even if it were possible to change it, she wasn’t sure she could. She was hopelessly in love.

Luke found a hackney who took them directly to the nearest church. Though the ceremony could have been performed by a blacksmith, they’d decided to seek a church first. Somehow, Tabbie couldn’t break from that tradition.

Her stomach flitted with butterflies as they stepped into the sun. “We’re actually going to do this.” Her voice shook more than she had intended.

Luke eyed her. “Nervous?” He reached his hand for hers and gave it a squeeze.

“Isn’t every bride?” she gave him a bright smile, her lips stretched tight with the effort. “How are you?” Her voice was more genuine as she asked the question—concer

Tags: Tammy Andresen Wicked Lords of London Historical
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