at the realization that he would be hers to savor from now on.

As the barge turned into the center of the river, the kiss grew more frantic. Her eyes closed and her mouth sealed to Kit’s, Rose wrenched his surcoat off his shoulders and pushed it down his arms. The vessel rocked, threatening her balance, and he grabbed her to hold her upright, laughing into her mouth.

“Now,” she said against his lips, working him closer to the bed. The barge settled into a more gentle rocking rhythm, but wind whistled through the shutters, igniting a similar storm in her blood. She shoved his long waistcoat off, her hands going blindly to his cravat as his fingers went to her stomacher. She burned, she ached. The tiny cabin seemed endless as she inched him toward the bed, their mouths still locked in that breathless caress. She turned them both, ready to sink to the mattress the moment she felt it behind her knees.

But what she bumped into was higher. And harder. She put a hand back, feeling wood. She twisted in dismay, her eyes flying open. A wedding feast for two was spread on a gorgeous carved mahogany table surrounded by six matching chairs.

There was no bed. “Where the devil is the bed?”

“Hmm?” Deprived of her lips, Kit kissed her throat instead.

“The bed. The bed is gone.” Disappointment dulled all the exciting, stormy sensations. “Kit, there’s no bed.”

He raised his head and blinked, then shrugged. “We’ll make do.”

What? Would they lie down on the floor? “I don’t see how—”

“Trust me, sweetheart.” Seemingly unperturbed, he dropped her stomacher to a chair and untied the bow securing her laces, bending again to kiss the valley between her breasts.

Beneath his hot mouth, her flesh prickled. She swayed and closed her eyes. “You’re right,” she suddenly realized. “Position Five could work on the table.”

He jerked upright. “Position Five?”

“From I Sonetti. Here.” She turned and shoved dishes away from the edge. “Sit here.”

“Here?”

“Here,” she said, pushing him into place. She backed up to him and raised herself to sit on his lap, moving her legs to either side of his knees and wiggling herself close. “Hmm.” She leaned forward a little, angling…”Yes, it can work!”

His laughter burst out behind her.

“What?” she asked, half twisting on his lap.

“It may work, but it’s not very romantic.” He swung her around to sit properly sideways, then leaned her back against his arm. “There. Now I can kiss you.”

She wanted more than kisses. “But we cannot—”

“Trust me, sweetheart, we can.” When she opened her mouth to protest again, he covered it with his fingers. “Trust me.”

Well, she had little choice, did she? When he replaced his hand with his mouth, she sank into the embrace, trusting. And trembling. His lips seemed made to fit hers, and the storm overtook her again, just that easily.

He spread her bodice wide and toyed with her aching breasts, slipping a hand up under her gown. But she had no taste for leisurely play. The barge rocked, and the wind whistled, whipping her senses.

“Now,” she murmured, “show me now.” When he failed to respond, she nipped his bottom lip. “Now.”

He laughed again. “And to think I feared you’d never come to my bed.” He set her on her feet momentarily while he pulled out a chair, then sat and turned her to face him, drawing her down to straddle his lap.

Leaning back, he reached beneath her skirts and quickly unlaced his breeches. “Isn’t this better than facing away?” he asked, drawing her near.

She sucked in a breath, feeling that exquisite need where her body pressed against his, where she could feel him straining against her.

“I can kiss you,” he pointed out before taking a long minute to demonstrate, leaving her lightheaded. “And touch you.” As his fingers teased her breasts, she squirmed against him below. “And hold you.” His arms went around her to pull her close.

“Yes,” she gritted out, “I can see the advantages. Now, can you show me how it will work?”

His hands went to her hips and raised her a little. Then he lowered her, slowly, slowly sliding into her.

She felt herself stretching, accommodating, welcoming him into her body. She sighed and then gasped when she felt him him slide out and back in, felt the storm rising in her blood. And then they moved together, that urgent heat building, a rush of heady sensation that threatened to sweep away all thought.

As his mouth met hers, she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, pulling it up, shoving her hands underneath to grip his heated flanks. Her breath quickened. The searing need built until it seemed unbearable, until she couldn’t move fast enough, until the storm finally burst, a swirling maelstrom of pleasure that had her shaking uncontrollably. When she might have screamed, he took the sound into his mouth, and she felt his own low cry echoing inside her.

Somehow, Kit had become her world. If she could crawl inside him, she would. She contented herself with slumping against him, sweetly drained, reveling in the feel of his arms crushing her close as she waited for her heart to calm, her breathing to slow. So they could start all over again.

She would never get enough of him.

The gentle sway of the barge was soothing. As the blood stopped pumping in her ears, the wind seemed to whistle less fiercely, and the gentle strains of the violin seeped through the shutters and filled the cabin with peace.

The calm after the storm.

With her ear pressed against Kit’s chest, she could hear his heart thumping. “‘You are filling me,’” she quoted softly, “‘thrilling me, and I could stay seated here for a year.’”

His satisfied hum vibrated through her. “Nice,” he murmured.

“That was from one of the sonnets,” she admitted, opening her eyes. Sconces on the beautifully paneled walls held flickering candles. She raised her face and kissed Kit’s chin. “I Sonetti didn’t show this position.”

“Forget I Sonetti.” He reached around her to fill two goblets from a

Вы читаете Rose
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату