If You Were Mine (Cavendish Mysteries 1) - Page 17

“How severe were your injuries?” Isobel’s tone softened as she considered his lying in a foreign country, badly injured with no easy way of returning home other than a moving and swaying ship.

Dominic stared at her solemnly for several minutes clearly battling something within. Isobel began to wonder if he would just ignore her question until he suddenly stood up and moved toward the door, closing it soundly with his booted heel. As he approached the bed, he began to ease off his jacket.

Stunned, Isobel watched closely, her temperature rising as he slowly unravelled his cravat before placing it carefully with his jacket at the end of the bed. Slowly, he undid the ties of his white shirt, pulling the edges out

of his riding breeches before swiftly pulling it over his head.

Despite the blush that marred her cheeks, her hungry eyes roamed the broad expanse of flesh that greeted her. His shoulders were indeed wide and firmly muscled. His broad chest was matted with a coarse dark hair that tapered downwards over the rippling muscles of his abdomen.

“Oh Lord,” Isobel gasped silently to herself as she shifted uncomfortably on the bed. She itched to reach out and touch him. Her eyes slowly traced the large length of puckered flesh that ran from under his rib cage around and across his abdomen below his navel.

Pulling the covers from her legs she eased upwards to sit on the side of the bed, her eyes locked on the puckered flesh of his stomach. Her eyes flickered upwards to find him watching her closely.

“Does it hurt?” she whispered softly, her gaze dropping back down. Gently, her fingers touched the flesh higher upon his ribs, pausing briefly as he sucked in a startled breath.

“No,” His voice sounded strangled yet another reassuring glimpse of his face revealed a tension that had not been there before.

Her touch feather-light continued downwards following the trail of the rugged and puckered flesh as it crossed him. His breathing had increased yet he made no move to pull away. ilence settled around them as she boldly explored him.

“God Isobel, you unman me.” Dominic choked as her lips feathered across his flesh. His treacherous body immediately responded to her nearness. With the kisses she was bestowing upon him, he was so hard and ready, he thought he would burst. If only she didn’t look down at the thick bulge of his breeches, he mused silently wondering if he had the strength to move away.

“You must have been in so much pain.” Isobel’s voice held only a touch of sadness for he would have considered it condescension should she be overly sympathetic to his endurance. Her lips reached the end of his scar directly in line with his belly button. Unable to withstand any more of her curiosity, Dominic slid his hands into the thickening mass of her hair and tugged her face upwards until she was looking at him. Her lips were pink and glistening; tempting him to taste and savour what was on offer.

“We can’t do this,” Dominic offered. Everything within him screamed at him to ease away. She had been so poorly, and was only just getting back to full health. In a valiant attempt to capture her attention, Dominic caught her hands on his and held them still, waiting until her eyes met his. He could see the questions in the beautiful blue depths, and mentally cursed as he felt the first cracks in his self control begin to form.

“Isobel, we mustn’t do this, you are too poorly,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers for several moments in a silent plea for understanding.

Isobel didn’t know whether to hit him, or kiss him. Drawing back, her gaze slid over the broad expanse of muscle on his chest. Her fingers positively itched to slide through the crinkly hair and see for herself if it really was as soft as it looked.

“Dominic, please?” she whispered. Although she was tired, she wasn’t that ill. She had spent several weeks doing nothing but rest. Her energy levels were getting better with each day, and if she had to lie in the bed next to the man who held her heart in his hands for any longer, she would not be held responsible for her actions.

A bigger man would have manfully withdrawn and re-donned his shirt. Dominic knew she already had command of his heart. He ruefully acknowledged that his body appeared to be hers too, if his immediate response to her nearness was any indication. His manhood ached with the need to relieve the pressure that was building beneath his breeches.

“Kiss me,” she demanded, pushing herself onto her knees upon the bed. She could sense his hesitation; his silent battle with his need to protect her, and his desire for her.

Before he had left for Norfolk several months ago, she would have been aghast at such wanton behaviour. Now, having endured life with everything familiar and dear to her cruelly snatched away, she had learnt to savour every opportunity. She wanted that opportunity now. She wanted him.

Sensing his hesitation, and with a boldness that surprised even her, she slowly slid her palms upwards across his chest, delighted at the hiss of his breath between clenched teeth at her progress. Emboldened by the fact he didn’t move away, Isobel slowly explored the dips and hollows of his chest, smoothing, seeking, committing each ripple of muscle and broad expanse of tanned flesh to memory as she traced the broad width of his shoulders. The need to reach upwards brought her face closer to his until she could feel his hot breath upon her cheek.

She moaned aloud as his hand tightened in her hair, tipping her head backwards to reveal her neck. His questing lips sought and found the long column of her white throat, his hot tongue laved the hollow at the bottom with his hot tongue. Her breasts tingled with anticipation as she brushed against his masculine heat.

“Isobel, we have to stop my darling,” Dominic groaned, placing tiny kisses upon her jaw. Inwardly, everything screamed at him to tumble her backwards and take what she was offering. The gentleman within him; the warrior; the protector; didn’t want to put any demands on her already recovering body.

“More please Dominic, I need you.” Isobel was unable to restrain the surge of recklessness that swept through her.For months, she had thought he was out of her reach, belonging to another. Since he had left for his secret mission her body had ached to feel his possession once again. She had cried and grieved for everything she thought she had lost. Now that she had it back, she was determined to savour every second of their time together.

“Isobel, you tempt me so.” Dominic tipped his head backwards to gaze blankly at the ceiling as she began to trail kisses upon the sensitised skin of his chest. His chest hair crinkled beneath her questing lips. Every nerve within him was quivering until he thought he would go quietly mad.

He drew her head upwards, and gently swept his over hers. His mouth was hot and demanding as his tongue probed deep into the moist recesses of her mouth. His hands shook when he slowly drew the long nightgown over her hips, breaking the kiss only long enough to pull it over her head and toss it carelessly onto the floor, before tumbling her backwards onto the bed and following her down.

Isobel moaned softly as the sensitive tips of her breasts brushed the coarse hair of his chest. Moist heat pooled between her thighs causing her to shift restlessly against the growing emptiness within her belly. She needed him to ease the ache. Only he would do. Gasping at the delicious sensations he was creating, she arched her back in mute appeal as his lips moved lower. Everything within her shook as his lips caught and teased the sensitive nipple, laving it carefully until she thought she would go quietly mad. The tugging sensation low in her tummy tightened as the moisture between her legs built.

Somehow he had loosened his breeches and broke away from her long enough to kick them off along with his boots before resuming his place upon the bed.

Sliding a hand along the slender curve of her side, he caressed the satin smooth skin from her shoulder to her hips, revelling in the warm softness. She shifted restlessly as his hand began to explore her flesh. Tugging his head upwards her lips explored his wantonly making him groan with delight.

“We need to slow down darling.” Dominic’s voice was a hoarse whisper in the silence of the room.

“No, I need you Dominic. Please don’t wait,” she gasped rubbing her breasts against his chest. Her hands swept down the length of his sides, desperately tugging him closer. As he complied, she felt the rigid length of his manhood against her thigh and paused. Curiosity drove her to look down at the large shaft, moist and glistening in readiness. With a shy glance upwards she gently trailed a finger down the silken heat, delighted as it quivered in response. Dominic groaned at the delicious sensations her curiosity was causing but knew he could not withstand the torture.

Tags: Rebecca King Cavendish Mysteries Historical
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