What She Craves. Lacy Danes
in a tight-fitting coat, left little to the imagination. Her breath hitched at sculpted thighs encased in tight buckskin breeches. A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard, envisioning those legs tangled in hers.
A very fit, attractive, and well-muscled man stood before her. God, he was much taller than she remembered. Her memories…oh. Her eyes closed. His fingers as they slid up her skirts and into her wet folds, making her tremble in such a way she thought she would die.
Kenny gently stroked her arm and with his thumb traced circles in the fabric of her sleeve. Her nipples ached, pebbled hard, wanting the circular motion.
His hasty departure from his aunt’s after a summer of friendship and flirtation and his last words “I will bed you one day, dear sweet Hannah” slid through her mind.
She stared at his breeches where his erection bulged. He didn’t even try to conceal his arousal. He journeyed to the summerhouse today to have relations with his friends. He, like her husband, was a rake, with a bad enough reputation that she had heard of his adventures.
A deep rumble of a laugh came from him, and his erection twitched beneath the leather of his pants. Her cheeks grew warm, but she was unable to pull her stare from the bulge. All she wanted was to touch that ridge. God, she was mad.
“Let me tickle you, my sweet,” he said as he slid his finger beneath her chin and raised her eyes.
Eyes blazing with need met hers. Her sex clenched and she groaned. His words, the same he used all those years ago. She bit her lip. Her body knew the promise in those words. But what if she was as bad as her husband claimed? Kenny had been with many women since their encounter…
“Hannah? Please…” His voice, filled with raspy desire, caressed her nerves. She needed to be touched, and who better to touch her than the man who initiated her to the act of coitus?
“Yes, Kenny, touch me. Touch me.”
2
Deeds
Hannah slid her hands under Kenny’s coat as he pulled her to him in an embrace that turned her limbs to pudding. His strong muscled arms squeezed her, burying her face into his waistcoat and crushing his starched white cravat. He smelled the way a man should—clean spice soap, leather and sweat, or arousal. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and her body trembled. She inhaled again and sighed. It didn’t matter that this was scandalous, she yearned for him to touch her, and he was willing to oblige.
“This way.” He released her from his hold with a groan, laced his gloved fingers with hers, and pulled her along the riverbank. Reaching the grass pasture, he pulled her up the grassy slope without saying a word.
What a striking man. As a boy, he was handsome, but now he possessed the power and presence of his father. Only a powerful man would contemplate slighting him.
Her sister, Louisa, wrote once to say she sighted him at a ball. The gossips were all a-wag about his exploits. Apparently, he was very selective about the women he propositioned, and when he did find a lady he fancied, he would make her an offer of only one night.
His brown hair blew in the slight breeze and stood at awkward angles. Her knees weakened, and she wobbled. He looked like a god, Hercules or some such. A woman would have to be mad not to accept such an offer from him.
A grin crossed her face.
She stared at his bum as he stopped and glanced around. What a beautiful backside. Under the tails of his coat, she could just barely see the rounded flesh. Firm in his breeches with a slight squared edge. In her mind, her hands slid across the smooth hot surface, the tiny down hairs tickling her hands as he slid into her. Oh. Her hands trembled as wetness coated her sex.
He stopped abruptly. “This will have to do, sweet.” Dropping her hand, he shucked off his coat and gloves, then placed them on the grass. He stared at her and smiled; sexual heat radiated from him.
This tall powerful man meant to touch her. She couldn’t believe it. He would touch her in a way no other man had ever come close to. She bit her lip and feared she would never live up to his experience.
His waistcoat landed next to his coat on the grass as smoky eyes slid down her length. Yes, indeed he wanted her. She couldn’t allow herself to disappoint him. Good Lord, please don’t let that happen.
With trembling hands, she unbuttoned and removed her gloves. She needed to feel his hot skin beneath her bare caress.
“Come.” Kenny held out his hand and pulled her to him. His body, so firm and strong, pressed against her soft curves.
Yes, this was happening. She would—
His lips touched hers, feather light. She couldn’t breathe. The warmth settled again and pressed firmly, opening, pushing teeth against softness. She froze. If Simon was right and she was horrid, her dreams of this man would be shattered forever. Kenny stiffened and pulled back.
No, don’t do this to yourself. You waited too long to prove you are desirable and that you can give pleasure. Be bold. Follow your body’s desires.
She lifted her shaking hands up his chest and pressed onto her tiptoes, her tongue slid out and licked the clef in his chin.
Kenny groaned and tightened his grip on her.
See, you can do this.
“Sweet, sweet,” he whispered.
His lips trailed back to hers and fused with urgent, intense heat. Her tongue pushed into his mouth, tasting coffee and spice. God, it had been too long. The determined tangle of his tongue with hers made her heart race. She needed more. She needed it all. She stepped forward and forced her body into direct contact with his length.
Growling, he rubbed her belly with his hips. Good Lord, his prick. Her whole body trembled. The large line of hard flesh pressing into her was unmistakable. Waves of pleasure spiraled from the spot filling the tender flesh between her thighs. Juice dripped down her leg as she imagined his large phallus filling her. She wanted this act with him, but would it happen or would he become disgusted with her before it came to the tickle?
His hands slid to the swell of her bottom and cupped her, spreading the spheres. A large male thigh slid between her legs, pressing against her sex. She moaned. Heat raced through her veins as her hips arched into him. So good…The sensation felt so good.
Her hands slid down his belly, and his muscles jumped and tensed. Reaching the waist of his breeches, her fingers slid down his hard phallus.
“Umm.” His encouragement vibrated through their dueling tongues. She wanted to see the ridge of flesh, not just touch the skin, to compare his full-grown sex to the beauty of his youthful prick. Finding the buttons to his flap on the waist of his trousers, she popped one from its home.
Kenny pulled from the kiss and placed his forehead on hers. “Good God, Hannah, this is too much.” Kissing the tip of her nose, he lifted her off the ground. “I’m certainly dreaming.” He spun her around, laid her in the grass atop his clothes, wedging a hard leg between her thighs.
Bolts of lightning slid through her. Soon he would wedge his entire body in that spot, sliding his prick into her as she writhed beneath him. She studied his face; only desire resided in the depths of his eyes. There was no anger, no disappointment. She could do this; she would pleasure him.
Her hands clenched fistfuls of shirt. Oh how she wanted to run her hands up his naked back and clasp his clenching bum, to wrap her hand and her tongue around his throbbing staff.
To make him cry out.
She never felt so wanton in all her life.
“Kenny. I…” God, how did she ask if she could lick his prick? If he said no, she would feel like such a simpleton. Her cheeks warmed, and she closed her eyes.
“Yes, sweet?” He placed a kiss on the exposed skin of her neck. His soft hair brushing the tender skin beneath her chin. He kissed her just thus all those years ago.