Page 84 of Single Desire
“Irish?”
“Aye?”
“Do you wish to see that which you touch?”
Maura flushed crimson.
“Yes, I see that you do.”
Her jaw dropped as he proceeded to strip naked before her.
“Your grace,” she stated primly, “you display a dreadful lack of modesty.”
“Perhaps you should join me, then.” He tugged her upright. Nimble male fingers began to dispense the buttons on her bodice. Her gown was soon tugged from her shoulders and deposited on the ground. Petticoats, stockings, and shoes were tossed on the pile.
She was now as naked as he. And he had dropped to his knees before her. “Alec,” she whispered. Faith, but it was difficult to talk with his tongue tracing slow, tantalizing circles around her nipples. She gulped. “We are here in the open—”
He tugged her down to her knees as well. They were face-to-face now. Her hands climbed to his naked shoulders.
His ran his tongue over the graceful arch of her throat. “So we are.”
Maura could barely think. “Perhaps,” she said weakly, “the boathouse—”
“The next time, Irish.” His mouth closed over hers.
Beneath the pleasure of his kiss, her breath began to fray. Her tongue dueled with his. Conscious thought was abandoned.
“Maura,” he said raggedly. “Touch me, love.”
He dragged her hands to his chest. Maura slid her fingers through the dark mat of hair there, then explored the binding contours of his shoulders, twining through the dark hair on his nape. Her fingertips glided over the tautness of his skin, relishing the texture. She didn’t want to think. All she wanted was to lose herself to the moment. Lose herself to sensation. Lose herself in him.
She was hazily aware of Alec tugging them down. She lay on her side, as did he; the grass was warmed by the sunshine, while she was warmed by him.
His fingers tangled into dark fleece, stroked sleek, pink folds. He found her dewy, damp and ready.
He rolled to his back.
His hands caught her hips. She sucked in a breath, for now she straddled his thighs. His shaft was poised at the very heart of her, his crown embedded in sleek wet curls.
His features were taut with need, his eyes blazing and brilliantly blue.
“Tempt me,” he said thickly. “Tame me. Take me.”
He brought her down upon his swollen shaft. Impaled, her lips parted in shock. Alec’s hand closed around her hips. Helifted. Guiding. Harder, faster, until she caught the rhythm. And then she was panting. Churning.
It was heated. Blistering. Exquisite. Fever scalded her blood. She braced her hand on his chest and rose above him. Riveted by the sight, she couldn’t look away from the place where they joined. Her hips tilted again and again. And again and again he pierced her, filling her with himself, driving deeper with every hungry, soul-shattering plunge. Her sheath clung tight around his swollen flesh.
Alec gritted his teeth. She was melting him. Into him. Around him. “Yes, Irish. Oh, yes, that’s the way.”
He caught her against him, clamping her tight. Her eyes squeezed shut as she shuddered spasms of release. His…
And hers.
Later in the day, Alec closed the door to his study. Maura had declared her intention to nap before tea. He briefly entertained the notion of joining her, then thought better of it.
The rules had changed. The game had changed. Making love to her had changed everything. He didn’t want to push her. Somehow, he must convince her to stay.
He didn’t want her to leave.
