Page 95 of Valour

Hester fell off the sled in her haste to drag Septimus to his tent, ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the crew.

“Get everything packed up!” she called. “We leave tonight.”

31

IN WHICH A NAME IS FORGOTTEN

She had to have him. Immediately.

Hester dropped her coat to the floor of the tent, along with her snow goggles and hat, then kicked off her boots. Septimus’s gear followed. She threw herself at him, leaping and wrapping her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles together like she’d never let go. He hauled her against him, his hands pressing into her ass. Their mouths met in a hard, blazing kiss. Heat prickled along her skin. She wanted to lose herself in him. If this was love, she wanted more. Wanted everything he had to offer.

She pulled the leather tie around his hair free so that it fell loose and dragged her fingers through the black strands. Oh God, he was everything she needed.

And then the world tipped as he dropped her to the floor and kissed his way down her jaw, down her neck, along her collarbone. Heat flared in her blood.

“Too many clothes,” she muttered, pulling his hips down into hers.

“It’s freezing.”

“I’m not cold.”

He yanked her jumper over her head, then swept his hands under her shirt, rough skin against the curves of her hips, and then the shirt was gone too. He let out a ragged breath that had her bucking her hips into him, and she made quick work of baring his top half. He flattened his body on top of hers, nipping her bottom lip, staring with such intensity into her eyes that she thought she might unravel at any moment.

“You’re incredible,” he said, smoothing his hands over her breasts.

She tipped her head back. “God, do that again.”

He did. She writhed under him, sure she would catch fire, that the ice would melt underneath her. And then he dipped his head, taking her nipple between his teeth and flicking his tongue.

She arched up. “Oh, yes. More.” She reached down and tugged the ties of his breeches, pulling them down over his hips, his undershorts too, kicking them down with her feet. She sucked a breath through her teeth when he pressed his hard length against her. A brightness in her chest flared. She saw it in her mind’s eye, blazing brilliantly.

“Hester,” he growled, and she sank into the way he said her name. Desperate, full of emotion. In two quick tugs her breeches were off, and her underwear quickly followed.

“Look at you,” he murmured against the skin of her stomach, sweeping his hands down her torso and then parting her legs, his eyes turning feral as he gazed down at her. Then he laughed, tapping a finger to her backside. “Septimus, kiss me here. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to follow up on this.”

The tattoo on her ass.

She sniggered, lifting her hips as he kissed the words and then settled her back down, his eyes darkening in shadow as he beheld her.

Hester hardly dared to breathe. It was as though every nerve ending stopped between her thighs. “Are you waiting for something?”

His lips curved, and he ducked his head between her legs, his warm breath hitting her, and she thought she might die, or scream, or both.

“Septimus,” she panted. “Please.”

He looked so damned smug. “It’s…odd, to hear you being polite.”

“Just fucking touch me already,” she growled.

“There she is.”

He licked her from her opening to that extra-sensitive spot, his tongue cleaving through her.

She groaned. “Hell, yes. More.”

He huffed a laugh against her, setting her teeth chattering with pent up desire. He dragged his tongue across her again, and again, and Hester closed her eyes and bucked her hips into him, moaning loudly.

“Shh, everyone will hear you,” he said, voice low.