Reckless (Mockingbird Square 4)

Once more Margaret lay in her bed and stared at the ceiling. They had eaten supper before the fire, and retired to their separate rooms, and now she couldn’t sleep.

She wasn’t sure what she was doing. Today in the library she had made him admit he’d been overbearing in his behaviour, but that did not mean he was wrong. Being here, away from the turmoil of Denwick, she could see how awful her life had become. He was right when he said it was easier to see something once you were removed from it. She understood now how much she had dreaded rising each day at the vicarage, how the hours had weighed upon her shoulders, and how she had felt as if she would never escape.

Dominic had seen that and he’d helped her escape. She should thank him. She would thank him. He was sometimes irritating and overbearing … Well, often, not sometimes. But he could also be passionate when he wanted something—like her—and secretive too. He was many things and she loved them all.

She loved him. Did anything else really matter? They were here together and she was holding him at a distance while she continued around in circles. What on earth was she waiting for?

She loved him. She wanted to be with him. And suddenly it seemed ridiculous that she had denied herself for so long.

The next moment she was running on bare feet across the cold floor, and then her hand was on the door handle to his bed chamber.

The curtains were open and there was a moon. It shone upon the bed. As she moved forward, eager and a little afraid, she saw that it was empty. For a moment shock held her still. Had he left? Had he given up on her?

“Margaret?” She found him standing to one side of the window, as if he had been looking out, and he sounded surprised. “Is something wrong?”

“I thought … I thought …” she began, stumbling over her words.

He moved, and in the moonlight she saw that his hair was untidy, as if he had been running his hands through it in frustration or despair. He drew closer and she could see the longing in his dark eyes, and then he held out his hand to her.

She went to him, feeling her nightdress whisper against her legs, and her dark hair hanging loose down her back. She hadn’t even thought to put on her robe or slippers, she’d been so desperate to get to him.

“I’ve made up my mind,” she said.

His fingers closed hard on hers but he didn’t move closer. He was waiting and she hurried through the words she’d come to tell him.

“I want all that you said. The life together and the travel, and you. I want you, Dominic. Most of all, you. I love you.”

He let out a held breath and drew her close. His arms went around her, his body hard and warm against hers. He was still dressed in his breeches and his shirt was untied at the throat.

“I won’t ask you again,” he said firmly. “You’ve said yes and I won’t let you go again. Do you understand that?”

“Yes.”

This time it was Margaret who reached up to capture his lips with hers, tasting him, letting her tongue slide along the seam. She had dreamed of this over the past two nights and now she was here. He held her head and began kissing her furiously, as if he’d given up any semblance of control. Her heart was pounding and when his hands ran over her body, naked beneath the thin cloth, she felt flushed all over.

“I can’t be gentle,” he groaned. “Not anymore. I want you too much.”

And for some reason what he’d said was comforting rather than frightening. He wanted her with the same desperate need that she wanted him.

He raised her arms and tugged off her nightgown, throwing it to the ground, and she giggled. She went still as he stood and stared at her naked body in the moonlight. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said, his voice husky with desire. Still watching her, he stripped off his shirt and then began to undo his breeches.

Then it was her turn to stare.

Margaret was a virgin but she wasn’t such an innocent that she didn’t understand what they were about to do. Trepidation might cause her to hesitate, but when he ran his hands over her curves, it was desire that sent her to him, opening her mouth to his kisses.

Dominic lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bed.

In the moonlight her body was pale and beautiful, and every bit as desirable as he’d imagined. He bent to press his lips to her breasts, taking the hard little nub of her nipple into his warm mouth. Playing her with his tongue.

“Oh,” she gasped.

“Is that ‘oh’ good?” he asked, licking at her soft skin, tasting her and marking her as his.

“Very good,” she breathed. “Do it again.”

He chuckled, and obeyed. Soon he was exploring further, over her stomach and down in the warm, slippery place between her thighs. She writhed and arched her body as he used his tongue and his mouth on her, her fingers tangling in his hair as she sought to hold him where she wanted him.

She was close, so close, and he teased, holding back, keeping her wanting.