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Authors: Carole Mortimer
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softened. “I believe it is, yes.” He held out his arms.
Darcy felt not a moment’s hesitation as she moved gingerly into those waiting arms. Or from crawling completely into Ranulf’s lap. The chair protested at this extra weight as she buried her face against the solid safety of Ranulf’s chest and began to cry. “When the carriage tipped in that way, I felt sure we were both going to die,” she choked out between sobs.
His arms tightened about her. “You are safe now, Darcy. I will not allow any more harm to come to you.”
Darcy had a feeling Ranulf was promising to keep her safe from much more than the accidents befalling him.
Which made her cry all the harder. These past few months had been the worst of her life. Only Ranulf, seeing him again, being with him, had succeeded in bringing light into that darkness.
She now clung to him unabashedly, needing his warmth and comfort.
Which was why it took her several minutes to realize the hard and throbbing length of Ranulf’s arousal was pressing against her bottom…
Darcy felt none of the revulsion she had experienced when she became aware of Cecil Sugdon’s arousal in the same way two days ago.
Instead, an answering heat and pleasure suffused her body, causing her breasts to swell, and she could feel the tips tingle and harden as she slowly raised her head to look at Ranulf’s face.
His gaze was a deep dark green as it met hers, his cheeks flushed as his arms tightened about her waist. “Darcy…” Her name was an aching, questioning groan.
Darcy answered that question by lifting her arms up about his shoulders and placing her mouth against his. She needed the solid reassurance of him. To be as close to Ranulf as he would allow her to be.
He deepened the kiss as he turned her so that she now lay back against his arm, the rickety chair giving another protesting groan. His tongue slipped questioningly along the closed seam of her mouth before plundering the heat inside the moment Darcy parted her lips beneath his.
Heavenly.
A pleasure and heat Darcy wanted more of.
She offered no resistance as Ranulf unfastened several more of the buttons at the front of her gown, allowing the warmth of his hand to slip beneath that material to cup one of her breasts over the thin material of her chemise.
She arched up into that hand as it began to squeeze and knead her swollen flesh. Her fingers tangled in the hair at Ranulf’s nape as he pushed her chemise aside to grasp and roll her bared nipple between his fingers and thumb.
Darcy craved that closeness. To be closer still.
She offered no resistance as Ranulf broke the kiss and his lips caressed a path down her throat to her now completely bared breasts, gasping as she felt the heat of his mouth envelope and then suckle deeply on one of her exposed nipples. A river of hot pleasure coursed through her body before settling, concentrating achingly, between her thighs.
“Please, Ranulf…” she groaned as that burning ache became unbearable. “I need… Oh please, I need!”
She felt the cooler air on her legs and the warmth of Ranulf’s hand against her skin as he slowly pushed her gown up. That hand gently parted her legs before his palm cupped the mound between her thighs, fingers seeking and then entering the slit in her drawers.
Darcy groaned softly as those fingers stroked along the swollen entrance to her channel, the slick juices wetting them, before they centered on that erect nubbin above.
Caressing.
Stroking.
Pressing.
Lightly squeezing.
The deeper and longer suckling of her nipple into Ranulf’s mouth.
His teeth abrasive against her engorged flesh.
The increasing rhythm and speed of that stroking between her thighs.
The pleasure was unimaginable.
Utterly consuming.
Darcy lifted her hips to meet each of those caresses, knowing herself poised on the edge of one of those pleasure/pain explosions she had experienced only once before in her life. While dreaming of Ranulf.
This was no
Darcy felt not a moment’s hesitation as she moved gingerly into those waiting arms. Or from crawling completely into Ranulf’s lap. The chair protested at this extra weight as she buried her face against the solid safety of Ranulf’s chest and began to cry. “When the carriage tipped in that way, I felt sure we were both going to die,” she choked out between sobs.
His arms tightened about her. “You are safe now, Darcy. I will not allow any more harm to come to you.”
Darcy had a feeling Ranulf was promising to keep her safe from much more than the accidents befalling him.
Which made her cry all the harder. These past few months had been the worst of her life. Only Ranulf, seeing him again, being with him, had succeeded in bringing light into that darkness.
She now clung to him unabashedly, needing his warmth and comfort.
Which was why it took her several minutes to realize the hard and throbbing length of Ranulf’s arousal was pressing against her bottom…
Darcy felt none of the revulsion she had experienced when she became aware of Cecil Sugdon’s arousal in the same way two days ago.
Instead, an answering heat and pleasure suffused her body, causing her breasts to swell, and she could feel the tips tingle and harden as she slowly raised her head to look at Ranulf’s face.
His gaze was a deep dark green as it met hers, his cheeks flushed as his arms tightened about her waist. “Darcy…” Her name was an aching, questioning groan.
Darcy answered that question by lifting her arms up about his shoulders and placing her mouth against his. She needed the solid reassurance of him. To be as close to Ranulf as he would allow her to be.
He deepened the kiss as he turned her so that she now lay back against his arm, the rickety chair giving another protesting groan. His tongue slipped questioningly along the closed seam of her mouth before plundering the heat inside the moment Darcy parted her lips beneath his.
Heavenly.
A pleasure and heat Darcy wanted more of.
She offered no resistance as Ranulf unfastened several more of the buttons at the front of her gown, allowing the warmth of his hand to slip beneath that material to cup one of her breasts over the thin material of her chemise.
She arched up into that hand as it began to squeeze and knead her swollen flesh. Her fingers tangled in the hair at Ranulf’s nape as he pushed her chemise aside to grasp and roll her bared nipple between his fingers and thumb.
Darcy craved that closeness. To be closer still.
She offered no resistance as Ranulf broke the kiss and his lips caressed a path down her throat to her now completely bared breasts, gasping as she felt the heat of his mouth envelope and then suckle deeply on one of her exposed nipples. A river of hot pleasure coursed through her body before settling, concentrating achingly, between her thighs.
“Please, Ranulf…” she groaned as that burning ache became unbearable. “I need… Oh please, I need!”
She felt the cooler air on her legs and the warmth of Ranulf’s hand against her skin as he slowly pushed her gown up. That hand gently parted her legs before his palm cupped the mound between her thighs, fingers seeking and then entering the slit in her drawers.
Darcy groaned softly as those fingers stroked along the swollen entrance to her channel, the slick juices wetting them, before they centered on that erect nubbin above.
Caressing.
Stroking.
Pressing.
Lightly squeezing.
The deeper and longer suckling of her nipple into Ranulf’s mouth.
His teeth abrasive against her engorged flesh.
The increasing rhythm and speed of that stroking between her thighs.
The pleasure was unimaginable.
Utterly consuming.
Darcy lifted her hips to meet each of those caresses, knowing herself poised on the edge of one of those pleasure/pain explosions she had experienced only once before in her life. While dreaming of Ranulf.
This was no
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