“A week can be a long time when one is careful to make use of every opportunity.”
She twisted her neck and caught his wicked glance trained upon her breasts. Immediately he raised his head, took a few strides and called ahead, “How far to our destination?”
“Perhaps twenty minutes,” Araminta called back, breaking her conversation with Edgar in order to glance over her shoulder. With a provocative look at Stephen she curved her lips into her most seductive smile. “We’ll be well fortified when we reach the lake.”
“I certainly intend to be,” Stephen murmured when he dropped back, sliding his hand around Sybil’s right buttock as Araminta turned back to Edgar. “I intend to take you into the forest, my lovely Lady Sybil, and find some delightful little dell so that you can have your wicked way with me. I’d wager you’ve never rutted under a clear blue sky or a canopy of trees, have you?”
Sybil felt the blood roaring in her head as he turned her towards him, but whether that was because of his coarse language or the sudden desire that slammed through her, she couldn’t say. His hand was now rubbing itself insinuatingly up and down the valley between her breasts. Heat rose between her legs, and at the same time she longed for the adventure he promised, she also shied away from it.
“I hope there will be strawberries and cream,” Stephen called out.
He grinned as Hetty’s chirpy, “I picked them myself this morning,” rang back. Touching his lips to Sybil’s ear he said, “Hmm, not as tempting as you, Lady Partington. Goodness, you look...skeptical?”
Before she could respond he’d taken her by the wrist and whisked her off the path and in amongst the trees.
“Gracious, Stephen, what are you doing? You can’t possibly mean—”
Her shock was cut short by his mouth upon hers as he pushed her up against the trunk of a very broad elm. But her objection died in her throat as his tongue parted her lips and his knee
parted her legs. Sensation quickly engulfed her as his erection, large and insistent, pressed against her stomach.
They were shrouded by foliage, a little uphill from where they could see the party wending their way farther down the path.
He dragged his mouth away from hers just long enough to say, “They won’t miss us for just two minutes and you’re the first to agree we must make hay while the sun shines.”
Already he’d hiked her skirts up about her waist while she was fumbling with his breeches, excitement roaring through her veins. She thought she’d die of it, for never had she been so gratuitously wicked or risked so much.
But by God it was worth the risk, she thought as she inserted her hand through the opening of his breeches and grasped his member, hot and heavy.
He exhaled on a small sigh, his own hands busy, turning her so that she faced away from him, braced with her two palms above her head, the rough bark against the sensitive skin adding another layer of sensation.
“Oh,” she gasped, as he stroked a finger along her slick entrance before positioning himself. She tensed, readying herself at the tentative touch of the tip of his member against her highly sensitized skin before thrusting out her bottom to impale herself.
The suddenness took him by surprise and he gasped, his fingers working all the harder to bring her to a rapid climax that would coincide with his.
He filled her completely, his thrusts deep and even, his breathing growing increasingly rapid as he rested his chin upon her shoulder and his pleasure took over. Yet still he pleasured her and Sybil felt again the extraordinary sensation of rising to a higher plane, and yet higher, until suddenly the earth seemed to stand still before she shattered around him.
He collapsed against her and she had to cling to the tree to stop them both from sliding down the rough bark into a heap at the base. Though that was eventually what did happen.
Laughing, he raised his head from her stomach and gave her a smacking great kiss when she was least expecting it.
“Lord, that was good,” he said, rolling over and grasping his still oversized, pulsing member to slide back into his trousers. “And the others won’t even miss us.” He extended his hand and pulled her up. “Was that good for you, Lady Partington?”
Sybil couldn’t help herself. She giggled. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself so much, Stephen. For what it’s worth, I did too. Your enthusiasm is worthy of the most ardent schoolboy.”
To his credit he didn’t pout, nor did he release her hand. Instead, he scratched his chin and regarded her quizzically. “No one has ever likened my prowess in any arena to that of a schoolboy.” He grinned and she knew he was joking when he said, “The jades and misses I’ve made up to have been infinitely more complimentary than that.” He took her hand and led her back to the path.
“I shall take that as a compliment.”
His mouth quirked. “Actually, you should be exceedingly flattered, Lady Partington. I find you and your lovely creamy body far more exciting than any of the jades I’ve had the benefit of knowing.”
“I’m not sure if that really is particularly flattering, Stephen.”
“Well, you’re not setting out your wiles to entrap me. You’ve offered me a proposition—which is entirely to my benefit —and we’re cramming as much fun into the next few days as we can. I can’t remember ever having had such a jolly good time.”
She walked beside him, enjoying his complete honesty, happier and more carefree than she could remember. “I certainly never have.”
Stephen squeezed her hand as he glanced down at her. “Six more days, Lady Partington. Six more days,” he reminded her. “You’re more daring than you look, I’ll grant you that. Let’s see how daring you really can be.”