Page 36 of Ella’s Desire

He glanced around the orchard. “Nay, I was simply worried about the dogs.”

“They’ll be fine, as will Moppet.” And they would. The curtain wall of the castle was extensive and stretched around even the gardens.

Bronson put his arm to the first branch and pulled himself up, then his foot on the second brought him even higher. She hadn’t climbed especially high in the interest of ensuring they both kept their footing. She was glad she’d remained low enough for him to reach her easily now.

He stopped on the branch she stood on and looked about with a half-smile pulling at his lips. “It looks so different.”

“It does.” She gripped the branch above her head and stepped closer to him. For his part, he remained with his back pressed to the tree trunk, both his hands curled around it behind him for support.

“Isn’t it incredible how you can see all around?” She touched his cheek. “But no one can see us up here?”

His eyes found hers. Dark green, lashes lowering. Oh, aye. This was what she had wanted. Craved. Desperately.

She lay against him, pinning him to the tree trunk, and nudged her chin to his. He kissed her, his mouth hungry with a similar need.

“We can do anything up here.” She rubbed her body against him.

“I don’t think ‘anything.’” He chuckled nervously.

“Sit down.” She guided him onto the branch with his back to the trunk, where it felt the safest. She settled in front of him, not needing the same reassurance after years of climbing trees.

She leaned forward to kiss him and put her hand to his chest where his heartbeat thundered beneath her palm. “It’s my turn, Bronson.”

His forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Your turn?”

She glided her hand down his flat stomach to the hem of his tunic. “To touch you.”

13

Bronson stared at Ella, certain he had not heard her correctly. She wanted to touch him. Her fingers were wandering farther down his torso and she continued to flick hesitant glances in his direction.

Mayhap he had heard correctly.

He cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon?”

She scooted closer to him, wickedness teasing her lips into a sensual smile.

The branch beneath moved slightly and sent a spike of nervous energy charging through him. He gripped the trunk behind him more tightly.

“I want to touch you.” Ella’s fingers brushed over his groin.

Bronson sucked in a breath and tried to straighten away from her when the branch swayed under him again. He froze. “Mayhap this is not the best place—”

She kissed him, her tongue curling into his mouth with an expertise he had taught her. While her lips moved over him, so too did her hands, finding the ties of his trews and undoing them.

“Ella…”

“Shh,” she whispered against his lips. “I’ll be your wife soon and none of this will matter.” She reached under his tunic and pressed her palm to his stiffening prick. “Do you really want to wait a fortnight?”

Nay, he did not. But it wouldn’t do any good in the situation for him to say as much. Not up in a tree, not when she had lifted his tunic and was pulling free the ties of his trews. First one slipped free, then another.

He opened his mouth to protest when she wrapped her hot hand around his shaft and drew him out. She held him gently, but even the slight touch was enough to make him swell in appreciation.

She gasped. “Is it getting bigger?”

“Aye,” he ground out.

She rubbed her hand down the shaft and back up, sending tingles of pleasure throughout the whole of his body. “It’s growing larger still,” she said in wonder. Her gaze dragged from his cock in her hands to his face. “What makes it swell like that?”