Closer. More. Please.
As if she’d spoken the words aloud, Harrison parted his mouth and flicked his tongue against her lips. She opened for him with an urgency that would have shocked her a week ago. His mouth was warm and slick, and the kiss deepened, their breathing harsh as they each struggled for air. It was as if they were still in the gazebo, picking up exactly where they left off last night.
His hands slid to cup her backside and he pulled her flush to his front, her hips crashing into his, and she could feel his erection, hard and impatient, against her. It was impossible to remain still. She was feverish, burning alive, with every part of her growing more frustrated and needy as the kiss wore on.
He broke off to press openmouthed kisses along her jaw, her throat. He sucked hard on the sensitive skin at her pulse point, and pleasure arrowed straight between her legs. Releasing her, he murmured, “I want to mark you, even though I shouldn’t. Make it so that everyone knows you are mine.”
The idea appealed far more than it should have, considering she had been engaged to another man this morning. “Only if I may mark you in return.”
“God, I would love nothing more.” He nipped at her bottom lip, and the delicious sting of his teeth caused her to shiver. “But it’s hardly necessary. I have always been yours.”
Speech proved impossible after a declaration like that, so she kissed him instead, slower this time, and he let her, his hands holding her steady as she explored his mouth. Her tongue swept over his plump lips, then she nibbled and sucked until his breathing hitched, and then he was diving into her mouth, taking over with bold strokes and deep kisses until she whimpered. Everything in her strained toward him, her pulse pounding in her ears like a drumbeat.
Why had she never known it would be like this between them? So necessary, so utterly perfect. Desire clawed and scratched inside her, more forceful than she’d ever experienced during her own explorations. His hands were everywhere, coasting over the places within reach. When he palmed her breast, she arched into him, eager for more, but all this clothing . . .
“Shall we go to the house,” he panted against her mouth, “where I may do all manner of wicked things to you in a proper bed?”
She thought about the house, with its impersonal coldness and disapproving shadows. A place he hated, one that held no kindness or hospitality. It hardly seemed fair of her to contemplate staying there, and besides, they were here, in the spot where he’d dreamed of her. Dreamed of them together. “No. We should stay.”
“But . . .” He cast a quick glance at the divan, as if weighing the tiny piece of furniture against all the things he longed to do to her. “Are you sure?”
She’d never been more certain. “I don’t need a bed, but I will need help out of this gown.”
The side of his mouth hitched. “That I can do.”
Spinning her away from him, he set to work on the tiny buttons at her nape, unfastening them with brisk efficiency. The air in the carriage house was warm and filled with the songs of crickets and cicadas from outside, a familiar and fitting backdrop to their wedding night. He said nothing as his fingers plucked and moved, both of them breathing hard. She started to unfasten the buttons at her wrist, though her progress was slow and unwieldy.
“Goddamn it,” he muttered. “So many buttons.”
Finally, he loosened the dress enough to slide his hands inside, around her corseted waist and up to her chest, where he covered her breasts. When her back met his front, his erection nestled into her backside and she inhaled sharply. He surrounded her, sensation everywhere, and she pressed closer, rocking her pelvis into his.
Harrison hissed, his fingers tightening on her chest before turning her around, where she saw the raw need on his face, the flush to his skin. There was a wildness in his eyes that hadn’t been there a moment ago, but a vulnerability, too. “I don’t know if I can be gentle with you,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
“I am not fragile.” She held up her wrist in a silent plea for help.
The buttons on her wrists were quickly undone and he lowered the gown to the floor. She untied her petticoats, letting them fall, as well.
Then she stood in her corset, shift and drawers in the middle of the floor, and though nerves bubbled in her stomach, she made no attempt to hide herself. If this had been anyone else, she’d likely be terrified. But she wasn’t shy with Harrison, never had been.
He took his time looking her over, his hands gliding over the curves still hidden by whalebone and cloth. “My God, you are gorgeous.” Stepping behind her, he plucked at the corset strings, loosening them, until the heavy piece could be removed. Her breasts were average-sized, but right now they were full with longing, the nipples tight points behind her thin shift. When he took the flesh in his strong hands, shaping and caressing her, she let her head fall back onto his chest, her lids drifting closed, as the pleasure sizzled along her spine and down between her legs.
Her shift came off and his hands caressed the bare skin of her breasts, shooting a jolt of electricity to her core. His touch turned rougher, his hot breath in her ear, and he squeezed with delicious pressure. Then his fingers went to the tips where he teased her nipples, pinching them, and she gasped. “Harrison.”
With a growl, he dug his hard shaft into her backside. “I have waited a lifetime to hear you say my name like that.” His palm traveled south until he reached the juncture of her thighs. “Hmm, your drawers are soaked.”
“I guess that means you’ve kissed me properly.” She raised her arms and twined them around his neck, curving her body to his. She felt so comfortable with him, as if nothing she could do would shock or disappoint him.
His fingers delved inside the cloth until he found her center, where she was swollen and slick. No hand but her own had ever explored here, and she loved the feel of his calloused fingertips as he traced every part of her, from the outer lips to the entrance.
“You’re so perfectly wet,” he murmured against her neck. “I cannot wait to taste you.”
He continued to pet her, avoiding the one place that ached the most, and she could hardly stand the teasing. “Please,” she heard herself say as if from a distance.
“Get on the divan.”
Though his voice was steady, his breathing was not, and his reaction emboldened her. She walked to the divan, knowing he watched, knowing the heels of her short boots angled her backside higher. When she turned and perched on the divan’s edge, bare from the waist up, his gaze was bright and hot, hungry and full of adoration. She felt even more powerful than she did on the tennis court. Deep down, she knew that Harrison, her closest confidant for most of her life, would always protect her.
I wondered if you could ever want me as much as I wanted you.
At the moment, the answer was unequivocally yes.
Never taking his eyes off her, he shrugged out of his black evening coat and dropped it to the floor. He yanked on his bowtie, unfastened his vest. Collar and cuff links were next before he removed his dress shoes. In just suspenders, shirt and trousers, he stalked toward her, hair askew from her hands and lips swollen from their kisses. “Lie back.”
Was this it? Was he going to prepare her, then mount her? Nellie had assured Maddie she would enjoy it, and she knew Harrison would never knowingly hurt her. Unsure, she reclined and forced her limbs to relax.