The Governess Club: Sara

Of course she wouldn’t. Not when it might ruin her chances with the Goddamn Bloody Vicar. Nathan felt his lips flatten into a hard line. So be it. He would let her go. He had known that his time with her was limited; there was little sense in trying to negotiate for more. It was clear that she ready for this charade of an affair to be over.

But not before he was ready. There was still at least thirty minutes before their destination and he intended to make the most of it.

He reached over and grasped her waist. Her mouth opened into an “O” but she did not have time to react before he pulled her over to his side of the coach and onto his lap.

“Nathan—”

“Be quiet,” he ordered and pulled off her bonnet. The woman had imprisoned her glorious red curls in a tight bun, but he managed to get his fingers into it, pins falling to the floor.

“Nathan—” she tried again.

“I said be quiet.” This time he added his kiss to the command.

His lips roved over hers, pressing his tongue into her mouth. She opened eagerly, her fingers stroking the back of his neck. He delved into her warmth, drawing in into his body as much as possible. Now fully familiar with his kiss, her tongue parried his, creating a dance that set his blood to boiling. Her arms moved to wrap around his neck, pressing her body closer to his.

Nathan could feel her round breasts against his chest, despite the layers that separated them. He reached down and cupped one, trying to massage it. Christ, too many layers, Primordial Nathan whispered in his ear. Without hesitation, Nathan unlaced her dress until it sagged open and he could gain access to her flesh.

Sara pulled back from the kiss and he took the opportunity to plant kisses under her jaw and down her neck. His goal was clear. “Nathan.”

He heard her acceptance in her sigh. His hand pulled her dress down, exposing her shift. He made short work of that and within moments he had her nipple in his mouth. Her head fell back and he found he had to support her with his arm to keep her breasts where he wanted them: close by for his attention.

Little moans and sighs escaped her as his tongue circled her nipple, the rough texture teasing it into tightness. The mound tightened against his face, swelling and pushing up, offering itself to him.

Nathan switched to her other breast and gave it the same adulation as the first. Sara’s fingers wove through his hair, holding him right where he wanted to be. His free hand pushed up her skirts, freeing her legs and guiding her to straddle his lap.

Sara’s hands clasped his face, tilting his face. This time it was she who took possession of his mouth, she who controlled the kiss. Her tongue touched his and flitted away, teasing, coming back and stroking it more thoroughly. She rubbed their pelvises together, his hard cock pressing against her clitoris, riding against him, thoroughly in command of their pleasure.

Oh Christ. This was the Sara he had been waiting to see all week.

She pulled away from the kiss, leaving a breath between their lips. “Touch me. You know where I want you to touch me.” She kissed him again, slow and sweet.

There was no thought to resisting her. She had embodied the Nymph he had dreamed of for all these weeks. His hand disappeared under her gray dress and moved to the juncture of her thighs, his fingers seeking the wet heat emanating from her. His fingers found the slit in her drawers, touching her wetness and finding that spot he knew she loved.

She moaned against his lips when he pressed down and circled her clit with his thumb. Sara broke the kiss and put her forehead against his. Her eyes were shut in a focused grimace, drawing out all the pleasure she could from his hand. Nathan stroked her labia with two fingers, coating them with her juices before inserting them up her passage.

Another moan, a groan actually. She opened her eyes and looked at him, their gazes inches apart. She filled his vision, the passion in her eyes riveting. He loved seeing it, loved the way she responded to him. How would he fill his days if he had no chance of seeing this again?

No chance of loving her again.

Nathan pulled back, feeling the coach wall hit his head. He loved her. His Nymph.

Her eyes closed again and her head fell back, exposing her neck to him. He leaned forward and kissed her pulse, sucking on the rapid beat. “Nathan,” she gasped.