For once, her inability to bear children was a benediction. For once, it was not a crippling source of inadequacy. This coupling would be the first in her life that wasn’t fraught with the hope that she’d finally conceived.
Townsend groaned at the sensation of her soft breasts against his chest. “We have a bargain then.”
“Yes.” She gripped his face with both hands. His skin was warm, the slight shadow of beard, grown in since his morning shave, was prickly to her touch. “Now stop talking. Unless, of course, talking is what you do best.”
Amusement glimmered in his hot gaze. “Oh, I shall be most happy to show you what I do best.”
She uttered a sound of surprise when he suddenly swooped her off her feet, his hands cupping her bottom as he lifted her straight up against his body. She’d lived long enough to recognize that the powerful attraction she felt for this man, the intense physical connection that throbbed between them, was precious and rare. She might not find it again. She wasn’t going to squander it.
Carrying her across the room, Townsend buried his face in her breasts, mouthing the tender globes, sucking her nipples feverishly through her dress.
Leela cried out, arching back, reveling in the sensation. “Hurry.”
“Such an impatient girl,” he teased, clearly delighted by her enthusiasm. He stumbled into the table. Her bottom came down on its surface with a hard, clumsy plop. He sucked the tender skin where her neck met her shoulder. His prickly skin chafed her throat. “I do hope you’ve put that dagger of yours away.”
Impatient, she pulled at the placket of his trousers. “This is the only sword I’m interested in at the moment.”
“Damn, woman.” A surprised hum of approval came from deep in his throat. “I like a lady who knows what she wants.” He pressed himself into her seeking hands. He was hard and bulging, straining against the fabric. He helped her work through the buttons, their fingers entangling as they hurried to free him. His erection sprang out, pointed and eager, and she stroked the long smooth warmth with a kind of reverence that was alien to her.
“Ah, yes.” He breathed, undulating his hips into her hand, a pleased grimace on his face. He pulled back and reached for the hem of her dress. She lifted her hips to allow him to draw the thin garment over her head and toss it aside. The cool air prickled Leela’s bare skin.
He gently laid her back. But she remained propped back on her elbows so she could watch his mouth trail down her neck and farther still until he reached her breast and took a tip into his mouth. It was a stunning sensation. But she was distracted by his hand sliding to the place between her legs. He paused and she sensed his surprise at the hairless skin he found at the apex of her thighs.
“So smooth,” he marveled as he stroked her.
Leela flushed, her entire body hot. In her frenzy, she’d forgotten that he would discover she was different down there. That she’d sugared her private area, never expecting anyone else to discover it. “Among my mother’s people, it is common for women to remove all of their body hair.”
“How intriguing.” His fingers feathered over the smooth folds between her legs.
He would think her a heathen now. English women did not remove their most private hair. Modesty alone would not allow for it. Reality set in. A sick feeling slithered into her stomach. This interlude was indecent. Disgusting even. What was she doing here?
Leela awkwardly attempted to sit up. “If you do not care for it—”
Hunger flared in his eyes. “Oh, I most certainly do care for it.” Kneeling before her, he pressed a gentle hand flat on her bare belly to keep her in place, and bent his head to brush his lips against her smooth slit. “Allow me to show you how much.”
Chapter Three
Hunt marveled at the erotic feel of his tongue against the silky hairless folds.
Up until this moment, he’d found nothing more enticing than that small bush between a woman’s thighs; the sight of intimate hair always added an element of mystery and allure to any coupling. But now, his prick throbbed with anticipation to delve into this new unexplored territory.
Everything was bare to his gaze, the beautiful pinkish folds blatantly open to him, velvety against his cheek. He tasted her, relishing her earthy essence, flicking his tongue against her most sensitive point, eager to drive her wild. Never before had he been so intent on giving a woman pleasure. She bucked and moaned under his tongue, making his prick swell and throb, greedy to be inside of her.
She hummed deep in her throat and pressed herself against Hunt’s tongue. He obliged her, sucking more ardently yet remaining gentle, using his fingers to play with her, to drive her to the edge. It did not take long. Venus tensed, convulsed and cried out. He pressed one last wet kiss against her glistening mons and smiled. Pure animalistic satisfaction pumped through his veins.
Hunt sprang to his feet, desperate to be inside her. Yearning and need twisted through him. He pulled her plump bottom to the edge of the table, where the soft firelight illuminated her bare Junoesque form—a strong silhouette of lush breasts, a curved waist and womanly hips.
There was nothing delicate about her and that enticed him. She was all woman, unapologetically so. Her hair had come loose, the glorious waves framing her face and beautiful breasts like a satiny halo. She stared at him through hazy eyes, her high cheeks flushed, her lips moist and slightly parted.
The sight of her bared body, warm and open to him, drove Hunt to madness. Her skin all over was that same smooth bronze delight, silky and hairless everywhere. Holding her hips up to receive him, he plunged inside of her, wildly and absent of any finesse, stroking furiously. The sensation of her insides caressing his prick was unlike anything he’d experienced with Georgie. Or any other woman.
She moved with him, crying out softly. He used his fingers to coax her to completion. Within him, the pressure built, contractions rocked his groin. He wasn’t going to last. When he felt her stiffen, he let himself go, shouting some incoherent utterance of satisfaction as he released into her. Shooting his seed into this woman filled Hunt with a level of relief and pleasure that he hadn’t thought possible.
He took a few moments to catch his breath before leaning over to press a kiss against her soft belly, relishing the salty sweet scent of skin and femininity. Her hands caressed his head to pull her to him. As he settled between her breasts, an unexpected rush of tenderness engulfed him.
Hunt rarely allowed himself to be driven by physical impulses. He knew the damage such thoughtlessness could do. His late brother had followed his destructive urges enough for the both of them. But this evening, Hunt lost himself in this alluring woman who’d suddenly appeared in his life like some heavenly gift. As if destiny had brought them together for this one night.
Her skin was satin against his cheek. Unable to distinguish the erratic pounding of her heart from his own, Hunt reconsidered his need for order and distaste of surprises. He feathered his fingers over the tip of her beautiful breast and watched it peak for him.
Embracing the unexpected certainly had its merits.
Struggling to catch her breath, Leela stared up at the wooden nubby ceiling and absorbed what she’d just experienced.
She investigated the heat of his body against hers—the gratifying pulsations between her legs, the noisy rush of blood in her veins, the pounding in her ears. Townsend’s rumpled hair felt surprisingly soft against her fingers. She delighted in the sweet press of his weight against her body, not minding in the least the hard surface beneath her head and back and hips. His moist tongue flicked back and forth against her nipple, toying with it. She could feel the impact of his ministrations between her legs.