A Rose for Major Flint (Brides of Waterloo)

‘It is irresistible. I only have to think of macarons and I start to giggle.’ Her stays joined the pile of clothes leaving her in her shift. ‘Does no one ever tease you?’

Adam stopped in the act of hauling his shirt over his head and just looked at her.

‘No, I suppose not.’ She sat with her chin in her hands, admiring him as he stripped. ‘The wound in your side is better.’

‘I heal fast.’

Not used to being teased, will not admit to being hurt or tired… Co-existing with this man as a husband was going to be a challenge. And he was tired now.

‘May we nap?’ Rose asked, stretching out on the bed. Tactics, my girl.

‘I am perfectly—’

‘Only, tomorrow my courses will begin and that makes me tired and my back aches rather.’

‘Ah.’ He lay down on the bed next to her, over six feet of naked, muscled masculinity.

Rose took a firm grip on her desires and snuggled against his side, her head on his chest. ‘Just half an hour.’ She curled her arm round until she could stroke the angle of his shoulder and neck and he put a big, warm palm against the small of her back and rubbed gently.

The tension went out of him so suddenly that for a moment she was frightened. Then she realised he was still breathing, long, slow deep breaths. His body was limp, more relaxed than she could recall it had ever been during the night she had slept in his arms. He was asleep, thank goodness. Rose smiled and let herself slip into a light doze.

*

Adam woke swiftly. One moment he was relaxed beside her, his breathing deep and rhythmic under her ear, soft snores stirring her hair. The next his body had come alive, small muscles flexed, his breathing was lighter, the fingers of the lax hand lying on her hip curved into a caress.

Rose pressed her lips to his chest and kissed the smooth skin under the ruffle of hair.

‘How long have I been asleep?’ He wrapped his arms around her and shifted so they were nose to nose. His whole body was awake now, she realised, conscious of his erection against her stomach.

‘An hour, I think, not much more.’ She let her hand stray downwards and smiled at his hiss when her fingers closed on the length of him. ‘You are very awake now.’

‘Stop it.’ He made no move to still her hand.

‘Why?’

‘Because you will be sensitive at this time of month and you are making it very difficult for me to resist you.’

‘How do you know these things?’ Rose demanded, planting both hands on his chest to push up and look into his face.

‘I’ve lived with the kind of women who make their feelings about ill-timed male attentions very clear. And I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘Perhaps if I was in control,’ Rose mused as she came up on her knees and then straddled him, her thighs closing on the narrow hips. ‘Last night was…illuminating.’

Flint growled and reached up to cup her breasts.

‘Oh, those are tender!’ She caught his wrists, one in each hand, and pushed them back above his head. ‘Keep your arms there.’

His eyes narrowed, but he clasped his hands together and lay with his arms stretched above his head. Rose wriggled, provoking another growl, then found the right angle and let him slide inside an inch. ‘Keep quite still,’ she ordered, seized by a heady feeling of power. Between her thighs she felt his hips flex, as though she was riding a horse bareback, but he did not thrust.

Cautiously Rose began to rise and fall. She was exquisitely sensitive and knew Adam was right to be wary of hurting her. But like this the sensation was bliss and to watch the effect it was having on Adam was almost as arousing as the feeling of him within her, the leashed power at her command.

His eyes were closed now, his hands gripped the bedhead rails as though to stop himself falling, he was shaking with the effort not to surge into her. She bent down, her nipples grazing the coarse hair on his chest, and kissed the hard line of his mouth.

Adam gasped, opened to her, his tongue thrusting into hers with a desperation she had never experienced before. He broke the kiss, his head turning on the pillow in a kind of desperation. ‘Rose, for pity’s sake.’ His hair was dark with sweat, the muscles in his arms corded with effort. Inside her she could feel him becoming larger as the muscles gripping him began to tighten and she felt sensation build, focus.

She closed hard with her thighs and began to move fast, shallowly, finding the exact angle that tightened the notch of her pleasure higher and higher. Then it broke, she shuddered, clung to him. ‘Adam, yes, now.’

His hands came down, gripped her hips, lifted her so his desperate thrusts were shallow. One, two, three and he shouted, arched his back and came apart beneath her.