Wildfire Kiss (Sir Edward 1)

“Humbled—why should you be humbled? Ah, grateful no doubt that we stayed behind to look after you. It is what decent people do,” Lady Jane said as she opened the door wide. She gave Corry a disapproving glance for not already having the door open more than a crack.

Miss Bretton remained placid in the face of her aunt’s glance, saying only, “Ah, Auntie, now that you are here … I shall go below and fetch Sir Frederick some lunch.”

“Yes, you do that …” Her aunt busied herself with shaking the drapes about and opening the window. “Hmmm. You need some air …”

Corry swallowed a smile as she looked at Sir Frederick’s horrified face and hurried off.

***

The duke tethered the horses to a nearby post and watched as they calmly grazed on the grass at their hooves. He turned to Babs and said softly, “It doesn’t look as though it will last …”

She moved in closer to him and allowed the spencer she had been holding around herself to drop to the old straw on the barn floor. “What doesn’t look like it will last?”

“You are a tempting minx and have no idea what you are getting yourself into, playing with me like that,” he answered gruffly as his glance ravaged her breasts and his finger reached and fingered her pert nipple.

“Oh, but I do …” she said as her hand traveled over his hard chest.

“Sweet beauty,” he whispered. “You should run.”

“I don’t want to …” she answered.

With that—with the look in her eyes, the sway of her body, the delicious scent that infiltrated his senses—he took her into his arms once again. His kiss this time

was driven with feral resolve. ‘Feelings and desires’ won out, and he was helping her out of her riding skirt … laying her down in the old straw around them … throwing off his own clothes, whispering words he couldn’t believe while moaning with hunger. “Babs … my sweet innocent … I want you beyond all other considerations …” He was out of his coat and waistcoat, his shirt flung aside, his boots finally off, and on his knees over her with his huge shaft at full attention.

“As I do you …” She glanced at his dancing cock with wide eyes and lay back with her full breasts pointed at him, her nipples hard, her body yearning.

He stared at her and then groaned as he bent over her and suckled at her pink buds until she arched with pleasure.

He moved over her, and his hard rod brushed up against her naked belly. She whispered with desire, a desire that drove him into a feral response, “Ah … I think you are as large as a stallion …”

He laughed and was filled with joy as she reached for his cock and touched it. His body trembled with heat and pleasure as she stroked it, and he said, “Hold it … yes, like that …” He put his hand over hers and taught her the motion he wanted.

“Beauty … sweet beauty …” He moaned as he pulled it away from her and bent to fondle her breasts and kiss her again. When his mouth moved off hers he whispered, “Delicious … you are the most delicious thing I have ever tasted … I want you … now …” He put his finger into the cleft between her thighs; she was dripping wet, and the knowledge thrilled him. He moved his finger to her nub and worked her until she was arching her back and bumping instinctively against his finger for more, and so he gave her more with yet another finger playing against her wet walls, finding the spot that made her squeal with delight.

As he worked her, she groaned with pleasure and pumped against his hand. He brought her to a shuddering climax and felt a satisfaction he had never experienced before. He was filled with joy—so much so, he nearly went off with her.

He controlled himself as he positioned the hard, throbbing head of his dick to her pink-lipped opening and rubbed it to the sound of her groans of delight. He found he wanted to please her and go on pleasing her; he wanted her, and wanted, and he fought back the word that came to his head over and over: mine—mine—mine.

It was a primal emotion he had not experienced with any other woman. She drew from him words he wanted to banish.

Instead, he was going to make this about lust, keep it about lust. He was going to ram himself into her, take her innocence quickly so the pain would be over in but a moment and then replaced with ecstasy. He had never before allowed himself to take a virgin, but this one was always meant to be his.

Why was he doing this? Why? Love? Was this love? It certainly was more than any other emotion he had ever experienced with any other woman …

The answer was there in his heart, because he knew, absolutely knew that Babs Waverly, minx of all minx, was the one—the only that he would ever … ever what? Yes, it had to be love. He didn’t want it to be—was it?

And then he was inside her. He felt her flinch and almost withdrew, but his little tigress clung to him and bucked into him and allowed her instincts to guide her even as he held her rump up and moved her with him.

She exploded again, and he allowed himself release, but when they were done shuddering in each other’s arms, he knew, he would never let her go … He would tell her … he had to tell her, and the enormity of what he felt left the words stuck on his tongue.

She looked up at him and said, “Oh, Nick … I … I should not tell you this …”

He stopped her. He didn’t want her to tell him first. He wanted to tell her, and he wanted to do it in his own way. “Wait …” he said on a husky sound. “Not now …”

He saw her lashes flutter, and something about the way she moved, the way she stiffened made him realize she’d misunderstood. She jumped to her feet like a hellcat and began dressing herself.

“La … but look … the sun is returning … I had better hurry before I am missed,” she turned to him and said, her chin up. “Thank you … so that is what it is all about.” And the next thing he knew she was out of the barn and mounting her horse.