If You Were Mine (Cavendish Mysteries 1) - Page 18

She moaned softly as he eased her legs apart before settling himself in between them. His probing fingers searching and finding her slick heat. Raising her hips in mute appeal she was rewarded as

his finger moved deep within.

Her body was slick with sweat, every nerve taught and quivering in readiness as she lay open to his delectation. Anything he demanded of her now she would readily give. Instinctively, she opened her legs wider to allow him access and cried aloud as his mouth rubbed over her nipples again and again.

“Please Dominic,” Isobel gasped, unsure what she was asking for but knowing only he could give it. In answer to her plea she felt the broad head of his shaft at her opening. Her body stretched to accommodate him until she was certain she could take no more. Sliding her fingers into his hair she held on to him as he placed random kisses around her flushed face. Her eyes met and held his as he gazed softly down at her while claiming his place inside of her.

Isobel had only experienced sensations like it the first time they had made love in Squire Benedict’s loft, the night before his departure. Deep inside her abdomen an aching void tightened until she thought she would burst. Her tight nipples, buried wantonly in his chest hair, furled in delight at the teasing of the coarseness until she thought she would scream. She had never in her life felt so close to anyone before and loved the sensation of being this close to Dominic once again.

As their bodies rocked in rhythmic splendour, for Isobel the world exploded into a myriad stars as her body gave into the sparkling glory of her release. Dominic’s groaned aloud in response to her scream of delight, unable to withstand the onslaught of her inner tightening gave himself over to his own release. Isobel could feel the warm heat of his release deep within and her body immediately clenched tighter around him.

“Oh God,” Dominic groaned stunned at the sensations being inside her was creating. Never in his life had he ever experienced such satisfaction making love to any of his previous lovers. Indeed, before Isobel, he was certain he had never truly made love to a woman. That was just sex. This was something far deeper. For several seconds, he lay panting and replete above her, his head resting next to hers upon the pillow as he tried to get his stunned senses under control again.

Words seemed unnecessary as they lay in each other’s arms while their bodies cooled. Sometime later, Dominic had the presence of mind to cover them over with the covers, eyeing his clothing briefly before deciding to remain with her for a while. Mentally shrugging he settled down beside her. Viewing the cattle could wait.

Isobel had fallen asleep again. He wondered if their loving had been too much for her, but couldn’t find it within him to regret it. If necessary she would just have to spend a few days longer in bed. Stifling a smile at his wayward thoughts, and her reaction should he put forth such a suggestion, he gathered her gently into his arms. Placing a tender kiss on top of her head, he sighed lovingly as she instinctively nestled against him with a sigh. With a wave of contentment he had never experienced before, Dominic fell asleep.

“I am here to see the master.” Peter entered the hallway as the Butler opened the massive front door. “Please inform him Peter Davenport, Lord Harlec has arrived.” He brushed snow off his breeches before removing his cloak. It took him several moments to realise the Butler hadn’t moved an inch. “What is it man, is Lord Havistock not here?”

“Oh yes sir,” the Butler stammered, clearly uncomfortable about something. He had seen the riders approach and had recognised Mr Sanderson riding alongside the tall gentleman now before him.

He also recognised Lord Harlec when he saw him, and was fully aware the lady upstairs was indeed his sister. “I am afraid the Master is somewhat busy sir, but if you would like to follow me I shall ensure cook prepares you a tray of food. I am sure after your long journey you must be hungry.”

Peter’s brows rose as he eyed the rapidly retreating back of the Butler. “Wait!” he bellowed, his handsome features contorted with a harsh frown. “Where is Lord Havistock?” His concern rose when the Butler became increasingly vague.

“I am afraid he is out on estate business Sir. I shall inform him of your arrival, as soon as he is free.” With that Manvers quickly spun on his heel and made for the library, surprised when the latest arrival to the household made no move to follow him. Instead, somewhat startled he heard the heavy thump of his booted feet heading up the stairs.

“Please Sir, you cannot go up there,” Manvers protested loudly moving as quickly as he could to catch up.

Peter paused. “My sister is here is she not?” One haughty brow arched in condescension.

“Yes, Sir,” Manvers replied noncommittally.

“Then take me to her. I wish to see her forthwith.” Peter guessed that she was still in her sick bed. He had spent the entire journey trying to come to terms with Sanderson’s missive that his sister was indeed alive, although was in dire straits having suffered significant and life-threatening illness. Having been held up by the significant snowfall, frustration now ate at him. Nothing and nobody, especially an evasive Butler, was going to prevent him seeing the evidence with his own eyes.

“I am afraid she is still resting. She has been quite poorly.” The Butler panted behind him as they ascended the stairs. Manvers wondered how he was going to persuade the gentleman to leave his sickbed visiting, or how he could forewarn the Master of the imminent arrival.

“I know she has been significantly ill, that is why I wish to see her now. Are you going to take me to her or do I have to search this place?” Peter asked, not bothering to hide his impatience with the Butler’s evasiveness. His instincts warned him something was amiss, and he had a vague notion that that might be. Without hesitating, he spun on his heel and took the remaining stairs two at a time, striding down the corridor toward the master suite. He had visited Dominic’s house on more than one occasion, and was fairly certain he could remember the layout.

However, he wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him as he opened the door to the master suite.

“Bloody hell Dominic, what the hell have you been doing with my sister?” he all but bellowed, pushing the door open angrily until it banged against the wall with a thump.

In reality, he knew he should be extremely angry that Dominic had compromised and thoroughly disgraced his sister. Inwardly, he was delighted. Not only to see she was indeed alive and relatively well, but ensconced so comfortably with the man who would make her his wife, and would give her the utmost protection against Rupert.

Keeping a mock frown on his face, he stood in the doorway and watched as Dominic pushed himself sleepily onto one elbow.

“Do you have to shout?” Dominic grumbled with a yawn. Isobel stirred sleepily beside him, and he pulled the covers higher to protect her modesty.

“Isobel!” Peter chastised, watching with delight as his sister’s beautiful blue eyes sprang open in shock. She was indeed very much alive and recovering well if the pink blush staining her cheeks was any indication, Peter mused fighting a smile.

“Peter?” It took all of Dominic’s dexterity to prevent her blushes when she immediately sat bolt upright in bed, wide awake. “Peter? Is that really you?”

“Yes, you can be bloody sure it is me, darling Sister. Get yourself presentable, I shall be back soon and then I want some answers about your behaviour, my dear.” He turned around to head back into the corridor before pausing and turning around to face them. “From the both of you!” he added, with a glare towards Dominic.

As he turned away, Peter closed the door behind him with a firm click and broke out into a grin. He could get used to playing the stern older brother, he mused, giving the shocked Butler a wink as he passed. If playing the outraged protector rushed those two in the bedroom to the altar, then he needed to put on the performance of his life. He paused beside Manvers.

“Do you know something Manvers? I do believe I am famished. Do you think cook would be able to prepare me a plate of something?”

Tags: Rebecca King Cavendish Mysteries Historical
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