His hands tightened as he moved deeper within her. He controlled the pace, lowering her onto his shaft with tortuous slowness. The heat of her was amazing. She was so warm and so tight, it took conscious effort not to explode. He wanted to be fully inside her before he gave in to the pleasure.
He eased himself in farther, and her legs tightened around him.
“Am I hurting you?” he whispered against her neck.
“A bit. It hurts, but it also feels . . . oh, Jack.”
His fingers had found her engorged nub, and he caressed it lightly until she was squirming against him. Her nails bit into his shoulder as she pressed to get closer, closer. But he held her back, wanting to spare her as much pain as possible.
He slid his finger over her again, and he felt her tense around his hard cock. “Jack,” she cried, and this time when she bucked against him, he allowed it to happen. He plunged into her, burying his shaft deep inside. He heard a gruff shout mingled with her heaving cries and realized he had made the sound.
He couldn’t help it. She felt so good. Grasping her buttocks again, he embedded himself deeply. She moaned, and he had enough presence of mind left to ask, “Am I hurting you? Did I hurt you?”
“Yes, but don’t stop. It’s a good hurt . . . oh, Jack.”
He withdrew and plunged in again, the sharp contrast between the cool water and her explosive heat bringing him to climax all too soon. He thrust deeper, and her warmth enveloped him, tightened around him, and with a shout he let go.
He poured himself into her, his orgasm so strong that he couldn’t stop a growl from escaping his lips. He lowered his mouth to her neck, biting her gently, leaving a small red mark.
She was his now.
She was still naked when Jack carried her back to the stable. He left their damp clothes tossed over a wooden fence to dry. They both needed new garments, and he’d have to go into Gretna Green to secure the necessary funds and supplies to see them back home.
He settled her on one of the blankets spread out over the straw where they’d slept the night before. She stretched, her glorious body tempting him once again. But he knew it was too soon for her, so instead of taking her into his arms again, as he would have liked, he said, “Tired?”
Eyes half closed, she murmured, “Mmm-hmm. Come lie with me.” Her voice was low and sultry, and the sound made his chest tighten. She opened her arms to him, and it was an invitation he couldn’t resist.
Just lie beside her, Jack, he told himself. But as soon as his leg touched hers, she rolled over and embraced him. Her limbs tangled with his, and he felt himself growing hard again.
Corn, he thought. I’ll think about corn. Or potatoes.
She snuggled her cheek on the curve of his shoulder, wrapped one arm around his chest and looked up at him.
“Jack?”
Stew and potatoes. Potatoes with corn . . .
He glanced down at her, at those big sapphire eyes peering up at him. “Go to sleep,” he said. She blinked. “But it’s the middle of the afternoon.”
Damn. Good point. “We’re leaving tomorrow.
You need your rest.”
“Fine.” She snuggled into him again, her long lashes brushing against his neck when she blinked. He could smell her, that sweet feminine scent taking him unawares. Making his hands itch to touch her. He licked his lips, and he could still taste her.
Potato pudding. Cornmeal . . .
“Jack?” she murmured, and then yawned.
Thank God.
“Sleep,” he repeated.
“I will. Jack?”
Bloody hell. “What?”
“That was wonderful. In the pond, I mean.”
