This was a big mistake. The two of them here all night long, with one mattress to share. He could see trouble coming. Even now with her sitting there, her huge hazel eyes staring at him, her plump lips begging to be kissed. Were he a gentleman, he would spend the night in the rickety stable with the horses. Anywhere except next to Miss Priscilla Cochran with the full curves, golden brown hair, and warm smile.
Trouble? Hell he was in as deep as a man could go.
He removed his coat and settled cross-legged in front of her, and took a bit of the meat in his fingers. Priscilla tilted her head back, the smooth pale skin of her neck teasing him, aching to be kissed, nibbled on. She slid a piece of peach into her mouth, and he watched, fascinated, as her throat worked to swallow the fruit. Then she smiled at him and licked her lips. Were he not so absolutely sure she was an innocent, he would think she was bent on seduction.
“Try a peach; they’re good.” She held out a glistening slice to him. Instead of taking it from her hand, he leaned in and sucked the piece from her fingers. She gasped and pulled her hand back. He took her hand in his and sucked the end of each of her fingers. He turned her hand and placed a small kiss on the inside of her wrist, noting the pulse beating frantically.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
He studied her under shuttered lashes. Her breathing was erratic, the pulse in her neck beat a matching rhythm where he still held his lips against her wrist. “You can’t still be cold. Take your coat off.”
She licked her lips and unbuttoned the coat. She took her hand back and shrugged off the garment. “It is rather warm in here now with the fire going.”
“Oh, yes, darlin’, there is a fire going.”
“What do you mean?”
He held his
hand out, aware that the outcome was inevitable. He’d known since Priscilla stepped off the mail coach and fell at his feet in the mud that this moment would arrive. “Come here, Priscilla.”
She rose to her knees and shuffled over to him. “What?”
He grabbed her hand and tugged, until she landed on his lap. His head slowly descended and his lips covered hers. She tasted sweet and spicy from the combination of the meat and peaches. He swept his tongue into her mouth, his fingers busy pulling her hair free of the sensible bun. Once he had it undone, he ran his fingers through her hair. “Like silk,” he murmured, inhaling its sweet scent.
Tilting her head, he rained kisses over her cheeks, eyelids, jaw, and neck. He nibbled on the sensitive skin under her ear. “There’s only one mattress,” he whispered as he ran his tongue over the outside shell of her ear. “We have to sleep together to keep from freezing.”
His hand crept up her body, and his fingers unbuttoned the front of her dress.
“You can’t do that,” she moaned, not convincing anyone.
“Shh. Let me feel your skin. So soft. So sweet.” His head dipped and he kissed her collarbone, pushing the dress off her shoulders until the bodice landed in her lap. He stared in her eyes as he unhooked her corset. Separating the pieces, he removed the garment as Priscilla took a deep breath.
“I don’t know why you women wear these things.”
He slipped the straps of her chemise off her shoulders, revealing her perfect breasts. Plump, dark-tipped nipples, already pouting, aching for his mouth. He accommodated her.
She wrapped her hands around his head, making small mewling sounds that drove him further over the brink. He eased his hands around her slender back and moved her closer, the span of his hands almost covering her entire back. He kissed his way up her chest to her jaw and back to her mouth. He anchored her face with his hands and turned her head to deepen the kiss.
He’d had his share of women over the years, but never had he burned like this for a woman. Everything about her surrounded him, the scent of lemons, her soft touch, her whimpering sounds, the sweet and salty taste of her skin. His fingers wrapped around her hair, fisting the locks.
“God, I want you so much.” About to explode, he craved her with a raw desire that consumed him. He wanted her underneath him, naked and crying his name as he took her over the edge, to be the first—and only—man to teach her about the pleasures to be had between a man and a woman.
Priscilla swore all her bones had melted. Were she required to run for her life right now, she would die on the spot. Mitch’s hands were everywhere, as was his mouth. Just as she thought she couldn’t take any more, he would move his hands and mouth from one place on her body and torture her in another spot. She was restless, unable to sit still. Her clothes felt restrictive, as if she needed to tear them off.
Instead, she unbuttoned his shirt, tugging it off his shoulders. Once his shirt was loosened, he yanked the bottom from his pants and tossed it aside. Then he eased her down on the mattress and leaned over her body, once more suckling her breast as he teased the nipple on the other one, rolling it with his fingers. She shifted and moaned, tossing her head back and forth.
“Darlin’, I have to see all of you. Help me with your dress.” He shifted and tugged the garment over her hips and down her legs, dragging her bloomers with the skirt, leaving her in only her stockings and half boots. Instead of embarrassment, she relished the heat in his gaze as his eyes ate her up from the top of her head to her feet.
The flames from the fireplace cast a glow over the room, bathing them in the warm light. Sweat beaded Mitch’s forehead, and her heart pounded as if it would jump from her chest. Unknown feelings raced through her body, making her aware of places she never thought of.
Her breathing was so erratic she wasn’t sure she would ever draw another deep breath. He slipped her half boots off and stretched out, settling alongside her, braced on his elbow. His hand ran over her curves. “You’re so beautiful.”
His fingers drifted up the inside of her leg as he studied the movement.
“Mitch.”
“Yes, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”