Scandal in Spring
Page 84
“I’ve decided life is too short—” Daisy grunted as she tugged at the coarse cloth of his shirt. “—to waste a single day of it. Blast these buttons—”
His hands covered hers, stilling their feverish plucking. “I don’t think your family is going to be enthusiastic about letting you marry a fugitive from justice.”
“My father would forgive you anything. Besides, you won’t be a fugitive forever. Your case will be overturned once the facts are made known.” Daisy pulled her hands free and clutched at him tightly. “Take me to Gretna Green,” she begged. “Tonight. It’s how my sister got married. And Evie too. Elopement is practically a wallflower tradition. Take me—”
“Shhh…” Matthew wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against his sturdy frame. “No more running,” he whispered. “I’m finally going to face my past. Although it would be a hell of a lot easier to solve my problems if that bastard Harry Waring hadn’t died.”
“There are still people who know what really happened,” Daisy said anxiously. “His friends. And the servant you mentioned. And—”
“Yes, I know. Let’s not talk about all of that right now. God knows we’ll have time aplenty in the coming days.”
“I want to marry you,” Daisy persisted. “Not later. Now. After what I’ve gone through…thinking you were gone forever…nothing else is important.” A little hiccup disrupted the last word.
Matthew smoothed her hair and smudged a drying tear-track with his thumb. “All right. All right. I’ll talk to your father. Don’t cry again. Daisy, don’t.”
But she couldn’t stop the fresh tears of relief that leaked from the outward corners of her eyes. A new trembling came from the marrow of her bones. The more she stiffened against it, the worse it became.
“Sweetheart, what is it?” He ran his hands over her shaking limbs.
“I’m so afraid.”
He made a low, involuntary sound and cradled her tightly, his lips moving over her cheeks with impassioned pressure. “Why, dearest love?”
“I’m afraid this is a dream. I’m afraid I’ll wake up and—” Another hiccup. “—and I’ll be alone again and I’ll find out you were never here and—”
“No, I’m here. I won’t leave.” He moved down to her throat, pulling the sides of her nightgown apart with slow deliberation. “Let me make you feel better, love, let me…” His hands were gentle on her body, soothing and distracting. As his palm slid over her limbs, his touch sent darts of heat through her, and a low moan broke from her lips.
Hearing the sound, Matthew drew a ragged breath and searched for self-control. He found none. There was only need. Lost in the desire to fill her with pleasure, he undressed her right there on the floor, his palms stroking her chilled skin until the pale surface was steeped in a severe blush.
Trembling wildly, Daisy watched the candlelight shimmer over his dark head as he bent over her body, scattering kisses in unhurried paths…her legs, her bare stomach, her quivering br**sts.
Everywhere he kissed her, the cold shaking dissolved into warmth. She sighed and relaxed into the assuaging rhythms of his hands and mouth. As she fumbled to open his shirt, he reached to help her. The rough-woven cloth dropped away to reveal satiny male skin. Somehow it reassured Daisy to see the the shadows of bruises on him, they were proof that she couldn’t be dreaming. She pressed her open mouth to one of the dark marks, touching it with her tongue.
Matthew drew her carefully against him, his hand riding over the curve of her waist and hip with a sensuality that caused gooseflesh to rise on her thighs. Daisy squirmed in mingled pleasure and discomfort as the wool pile of the carpet abraded her oversensitive skin, causing speckles of pain on her bare bottom.
Comprehending the problem, Matthew laughed quietly and pulled her up against him, into his lap. Perspiring and dry-mouthed, Daisy urged her br**sts against his chest. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.
His hand cupped over her tingling backside. “You’ll be rubbed raw on the floor.”
“I don’t care, I just want…I want…”
“This?” He rearranged her in his lap until she straddled him, the fabric of his trousers taut beneath her thighs.
Embarrassed and excited, Daisy closed her eyes as she felt him caress the intricate folds of her body, gently layering moisture and sensation over her burning flesh.
Daisy’s arms felt weak as she slid them around his neck and wrapped the fingers of one hand around the wrist of the other. If it weren’t for the support of his hard arm across her back, she wouldn’t have been able to stay upright. All awareness was focused on the place where he touched her, the slide of his knuckle around the tiny silky-wet cusp…“Don’t stop,” she heard herself whisper again.
Her eyes snapped open as Matthew eased two fingers inside her, and then three, while desire writhed inside her like flames feeding on burning honey.
“Still afraid it’s a dream?” Matthew whispered.
She swallowed convulsively and shook her head. “I…I never have dreams like this.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement, and he withdrew his fingers, leaving her shuddering with emptiness. She whimpered and dropped her head on his flexing shoulder, and he hugged her securely against his na**d chest.
Daisy clung to him, her vision misting until the room was a mosaic of yellow light and black shadow. She felt herself being lifted, turned, her knees pressing into the carpet as he helped her to kneel before the settee. The side of her face pressed against the smooth upholstery, while her lips parted to accomodate her hard-rushing breaths. He covered her, his big, solid body fitting behind and around her, and then he was pushing inside, and the fit between them was tight and slippery and exquisite.
His hands covered hers, stilling their feverish plucking. “I don’t think your family is going to be enthusiastic about letting you marry a fugitive from justice.”
“My father would forgive you anything. Besides, you won’t be a fugitive forever. Your case will be overturned once the facts are made known.” Daisy pulled her hands free and clutched at him tightly. “Take me to Gretna Green,” she begged. “Tonight. It’s how my sister got married. And Evie too. Elopement is practically a wallflower tradition. Take me—”
“Shhh…” Matthew wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against his sturdy frame. “No more running,” he whispered. “I’m finally going to face my past. Although it would be a hell of a lot easier to solve my problems if that bastard Harry Waring hadn’t died.”
“There are still people who know what really happened,” Daisy said anxiously. “His friends. And the servant you mentioned. And—”
“Yes, I know. Let’s not talk about all of that right now. God knows we’ll have time aplenty in the coming days.”
“I want to marry you,” Daisy persisted. “Not later. Now. After what I’ve gone through…thinking you were gone forever…nothing else is important.” A little hiccup disrupted the last word.
Matthew smoothed her hair and smudged a drying tear-track with his thumb. “All right. All right. I’ll talk to your father. Don’t cry again. Daisy, don’t.”
But she couldn’t stop the fresh tears of relief that leaked from the outward corners of her eyes. A new trembling came from the marrow of her bones. The more she stiffened against it, the worse it became.
“Sweetheart, what is it?” He ran his hands over her shaking limbs.
“I’m so afraid.”
He made a low, involuntary sound and cradled her tightly, his lips moving over her cheeks with impassioned pressure. “Why, dearest love?”
“I’m afraid this is a dream. I’m afraid I’ll wake up and—” Another hiccup. “—and I’ll be alone again and I’ll find out you were never here and—”
“No, I’m here. I won’t leave.” He moved down to her throat, pulling the sides of her nightgown apart with slow deliberation. “Let me make you feel better, love, let me…” His hands were gentle on her body, soothing and distracting. As his palm slid over her limbs, his touch sent darts of heat through her, and a low moan broke from her lips.
Hearing the sound, Matthew drew a ragged breath and searched for self-control. He found none. There was only need. Lost in the desire to fill her with pleasure, he undressed her right there on the floor, his palms stroking her chilled skin until the pale surface was steeped in a severe blush.
Trembling wildly, Daisy watched the candlelight shimmer over his dark head as he bent over her body, scattering kisses in unhurried paths…her legs, her bare stomach, her quivering br**sts.
Everywhere he kissed her, the cold shaking dissolved into warmth. She sighed and relaxed into the assuaging rhythms of his hands and mouth. As she fumbled to open his shirt, he reached to help her. The rough-woven cloth dropped away to reveal satiny male skin. Somehow it reassured Daisy to see the the shadows of bruises on him, they were proof that she couldn’t be dreaming. She pressed her open mouth to one of the dark marks, touching it with her tongue.
Matthew drew her carefully against him, his hand riding over the curve of her waist and hip with a sensuality that caused gooseflesh to rise on her thighs. Daisy squirmed in mingled pleasure and discomfort as the wool pile of the carpet abraded her oversensitive skin, causing speckles of pain on her bare bottom.
Comprehending the problem, Matthew laughed quietly and pulled her up against him, into his lap. Perspiring and dry-mouthed, Daisy urged her br**sts against his chest. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.
His hand cupped over her tingling backside. “You’ll be rubbed raw on the floor.”
“I don’t care, I just want…I want…”
“This?” He rearranged her in his lap until she straddled him, the fabric of his trousers taut beneath her thighs.
Embarrassed and excited, Daisy closed her eyes as she felt him caress the intricate folds of her body, gently layering moisture and sensation over her burning flesh.
Daisy’s arms felt weak as she slid them around his neck and wrapped the fingers of one hand around the wrist of the other. If it weren’t for the support of his hard arm across her back, she wouldn’t have been able to stay upright. All awareness was focused on the place where he touched her, the slide of his knuckle around the tiny silky-wet cusp…“Don’t stop,” she heard herself whisper again.
Her eyes snapped open as Matthew eased two fingers inside her, and then three, while desire writhed inside her like flames feeding on burning honey.
“Still afraid it’s a dream?” Matthew whispered.
She swallowed convulsively and shook her head. “I…I never have dreams like this.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement, and he withdrew his fingers, leaving her shuddering with emptiness. She whimpered and dropped her head on his flexing shoulder, and he hugged her securely against his na**d chest.
Daisy clung to him, her vision misting until the room was a mosaic of yellow light and black shadow. She felt herself being lifted, turned, her knees pressing into the carpet as he helped her to kneel before the settee. The side of her face pressed against the smooth upholstery, while her lips parted to accomodate her hard-rushing breaths. He covered her, his big, solid body fitting behind and around her, and then he was pushing inside, and the fit between them was tight and slippery and exquisite.
