Page 94 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

It was just a gentle press of lips, but Grace opened to him at once, remembering the delightful play of his tongue against hers when he’d kissed her last night. He groaned and held her closer, and she clung to him, pressing against him. Any thoughts of hiding her wanton nature from him vanished as wanting took hold of her senses.

He took control, deepening the kiss as his hands moved over her, sliding down her back. Encouraged that he might not mind if her hands explored a little too, she allowed one to slide over his back, while she reached up to his neck with the other, sliding it into his thick dark hair and delighting in the silky warmth she found.

His lips left hers and she almost protested until he pressed them to the delicate skin beneath her ear and kissed her there. She shivered and sighed, and the kisses carried on in a heated trail down her throat. Grace tilted her head to allow him to continue, and he made a sound of such desperation it tugged at something low and primal. The throb between her legs that had begun the moment he’d kissed her became so insistent she writhed against him, seeking relief. His hands dropped, cupping her behind and pulling her against him.

Grace gasped, aware of his hard arousal pressed against her belly. He stilled at once, pulling back to look at her. Why, she wasn’t certain, she was only aware of the need, of the hollow sensation coalescing at the juncture between her thighs, and the urgent desire to rub it against that hard, virile part of him that burned against her belly. She pressed harder, inarticulate but wanting and it was his turn to gasp.

She wasn’t quite certain what happened, he moved so fast, but the next she knew he was sitting on the piano stool and she was straddling his lap and, though too many layers of clothing kept them apart, his deliciously hard member was exactly where she’d wanted it. He held her hips in his big hands, his eyes never leaving her face, and rocked against her.

Sparks exploded behind her vision, a burst of pleasure glittering through her like a firework upon a black, velvet sky as she closed her eyes. She made a sound which she thought perhaps she should be ashamed of, but Ned only groaned and whispered in her ear.

“Oh, yes, Gracie, like that. Don’t stop. Use me as ye want. Take your pleasure.”

And so she did, moving with him, against him as he held her and kissed her and told her how beautiful she was. It was instinctive and lewd, and she didn’t care, following the murmuring sound of his voice that led her on, and clinging to him until she was breathless and mindless. She faltered then, aware that there was something beckoning her and uncertain whether to reach for it. It was bright, and she feared it would overwhelm her. Uncertainty made her open her eyes, only to find herself fall into the warmth and security of his gaze upon her.

“Yes, love,” he murmured, coaxing her on. “That’s the way, my beauty, don’t stop.”

She didn’t, held safe in his arms and by the obvious pleasure in his dark eyes. Grace cried out, clinging to him and muffling the sounds that tore from her against his neck as he too shuddered and made a sound so raw and powerful she felt it in every particle of her body and soul.

They didn’t move, just held each other, both breathing hard, and Grace didn’t dare look at him, too exposed by what they’d done, though they were both still fully dressed. Her heart hammered, and she felt the echo of it in his chest, as though they were racing together, in perfect accord.

“Ah, lass,” he murmured against her hair. “I know I ought not have taken such a liberty, but I can’t regret it. I’d forgotten what it was to feel so alive.”

She drew back a little and found an expression of wonder in his eyes.

“My wife never played that music, Grace. She never played at all. I bought the piano for her as a gift on our first anniversary, but she didn’t want it. We had a grand row about how much money I’d wasted on it, but I was too stubborn to take it back. I tried to learn myself, but… well, I’ve no aptitude for it, put it that way,” he said with a wry smile.

Grace stared at him, unable to comprehend any woman who could be unmoved by such a beautiful gift. Perhaps understanding her bewilderment, he carried on.

“Sarah was a practical woman,” he said, smiling—at the memory of his wife, she supposed. “She had no time for romance or what she viewed as frivolity. Either you were awake and working, or sleeping.”

Grace gave an exclamation of dismay as she realised how badly she must measure up to his first wife.

“The dinner!” she said, turning to see it was dark outside. “It isn’t done. The meat is raw and—” Grace dashed away an angry tear, furious with herself. “You’ve been working all day in the cold, and you don’t even have a hot meal ready because I was so busy p-playing—”

He stopped her mouth with another kiss and she was helpless in the face of such an argument. She sighed and allowed him to soothe her all over again.

“That’s enough of that now,” he said, his voice firm. “If ye think I’d swap the last hour for a hot meal, you’ve not the sense ye were born with.”

Grace glanced at him, uncertain, but found only amusement in his eyes.

“Ye had best let me up, love,” he said with a heavy sigh. “All my good intentions are being sorely tested and I’m not sure how I’ll endure until ye are my wife.” He kissed her nose and helped her from his lap. “I must go and clean up,” he said, grimacing a little. “And when I come down, we’ll find something quick to eat and then ye can play some more for me, if ye would?”

“Of course,” she said, astonished by this man and his kindness and understanding. “I would like that very much.”

He nodded and Grace watched him go, her heart full of wonder and hope.

Ned made a face as he peeled the sticky material from his skin. He still couldn’t believe he’d spent in his britches like some wet–behind-the-ears lad. There’d been no other option, though. He’d not have halted her pursuit of pleasure for any price, bewitched by the sight of her, by the feel of her, and if he’d dared free himself from the confines of his clothes she’d have been on her back with her skirts around her ears and he’d have burned with shame when he walked her up the aisle. As it was, he prayed God would forgive him the lapse after so many years of abstinence. Surely a man could not be expected to resist when he had a goddess in his lap and his heart was bursting, not to mention less romantic parts of his anatomy.

“Thank ye, God,” he said, closing his eyes and putting his heart and soul into the words as he stood in the chill of the bedroom. He smiled as he realised she’d also forgotten to light the fire or put any hot water out for him to wash in. He didn’t give a damn. “Thank ye, thank ye, thank ye.”

He hurried back downstairs to find his betrothed sheepishly tending the fire. Ned grinned at her.

“Let’s see what Mrs Tucknott has in that pantry for us, eh?”

She blushed, still mortified, and Ned took her hand and tugged her along in his wake, too happy to pretend he could bear to be out of her company for the time it would take to find something to eat.

He piled the remaining meat pie, cheese, bread, and butter onto a tray, along with two apples and a jar of chutney, some ale, and several thick slices of seed cake. Hefting it, he made to carry it back to the kitchen and then stopped.