“More than you can know.”
“Can I do better?”
He managed a chuckle. “Better could only be achieved withless, luv.”
“Less?” Her brow furrowed. Then arched up. “Ah. I think you mean…” Fingers flexed and extended, and the first button of his fall gave way. Then another. Hell. No,heavenbecause his cock sprang free, and her hand forgot hesitance, drew fingertips armed with lightning bolts down the length of his shaft, circling the head, exploring all the other bits.
“Emma,” he moaned.
“What now?”
He kissed her hard and said into the dark hollow of her mouth, “Take me in your hand.”
She did.
“Do not let go. But”—damn, difficult to speak, his body bucking to take control, his mind blanking out—“stroke.”
She did.
And he lost the kiss as he lost control, throwing his head back against the squabs, holding her neck from the back, searching for her breast with the other, loving her hiss and moan as he found it, flicked his thumb across it. When she arched, he bucked his hips, and when she followed the rhythm his hips set with that silken hand of hers…
He fell.
The lines of his powerful body, the thrust of his lean hips, the pulsing of his… his prick (though that seemed the entirely wrong word), the dark stubble on his jaw, and the firm curves of his lips as they broke and parted over her name—a sight of true beauty. His.
And feeling of pure power. Hers.
He crushed her to him, tumbling her backward onto the seat as he thrust his hips against her, buried his face into her neck. Falling. Falling. As he rocked into her over and over again, she hugged him more tightly. Him and her and this coach a little world, and if they never had anything else, they’d always have the sway and jolt of the conveyance, the buzzing of desire between them, the tugging of the hearts as string wrapped them up together neatly. A pair. Never parted.
No matter the risk?
She threw the question to the wind, held the truth closely as his thrusting hips and whispers of love in her ear drove the need she’d felt this morning higher, pushing her toward that edge she was coming to know so well, that edge she wished to know better.
Rocking against her, pinning her to the seat one last time, he shuddered, arching against her as he lifted his head to peer down at her. The storms in his eyes raged, but as his body softened and he collapsed atop her, rolling to the back of the seat and taking her with him so she lay atop him, the storms softened, light shining through the gray.
“Now you again,” he said wicked and low near her ear.
“No, now we are even.”
“I do not think that is how this game should be played.”
A game. Yes. Because all games must end. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heart beating, slower and slower with each breath he took. She could listen to it forever.
She must have left her heart behind in his chest when she pushed away from him and sat upright. She felt empty now.
He sat up, too, fastening his fall and hiding himself, then peeling off his greatcoat and jacket and tossing them to the other side of the coach. “I think most of it caught between my greatcoat and jacket.” He glanced at her, his hands resting orderly on his thighs as if she’d not just ravished him, the muscles in them tense, as if they were prepared to ravish her. “Do you know… bloody hell,” he mumbled, “how does one ask this… Do you understand the danger in this game? If I had been inside you just now, I would have… filled you with my seed, and—”
She threw an arm out toward him. “I know. I know that much from my mother.” Told in the most basic, animalistic of ways, more warning than education.
He took her arm, her hand, flipped it and kissed her palm, placing a chuckle there as well. “Do not be embarrassed. I’ve had much time to consider such matters since discovering my sisters’ reading habits, my mother’s reading habits. I think knowing has protected them. And I think it may have led to happy marriages. And… I’m glad for it. I wish for the same understanding for you and your sisters.”
“Is that why you’re so eager to teach me?” she snapped. Why did she feel so tense?
“Perhaps. Would you like me to continue?”
She would have said yes moments ago, but the shaking, breaking feeling was receding, and in its place a buzzing blankness. Tears lay close to the surface. She locked herself up tight against them.
He wrapped her up and hugged her against him as he leaned into the side wall of the coach. He stroked her hair and hummed a song, and she wanted to sleep, to wake still against him and do so the next day and the next and the next.
