Page 77 of A Potion for Passion

Once again, that hissing intake of breath. He liked it! With a growl, he pressed her down and made short work of unlacing her stays. “I’m going to give you a taste of your own medicine now,” he warned, and bent his head to her breast.

Great, glorious Juno!His lips found one nipple beneath the linen of her chemise. She felt his breath heat the sensitive skin, felt the hard threat of his teeth against the budding flesh, followed by a teasing nip that sent a charge of power shafting through her entire body.

She arched her back, then pushed up on her elbows to give him better access. While his mouth expertly elevated one nipple to full, aching rigidity, his hand toyed with the other, pressing it between his fingers while he grasped her breast, gently kneading. A moan of appreciation escaped his lips, and she found she was moaning, too, opening to his touch, shifting up and down on the bed, her whole body attuning itself to his.

And wanting, wanting, wanting…

“Oh Judas. Flora.” He thrust his hips against hers, the taut bulge of his erection against her stomach. He was hard for her already, just as she was soft for him.

“I really had meant to go slowly,” he repeated, lifting his head and mesmerizing her with his fevered gaze. “But you inflame me beyond all bearing. I haven’t been able to— Nobody else lately has managed to— Forgive me. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

She knew exactly what he was saying, but she didn’t want to think about his other lovers. It would be the behavior of a harlot even to consider comparing herself to other women. It was flattering to hear he thought her special, however…whether it was true or not.

“Take your clothes off,” she ordered, desperate to take her mind off the fact that he’d had so many lovers. The thought made her heart twist and threatened to spoil the moment.

“As the lady wishes,” he responded, his mouth quirking upwards.

Fascinated, she watched as he sat back on his heels, unbuttoned his breeches, and pushed them down his hips. As he swung off the bed and stood to step out of them, she gaped at the sight of his arousal—proud, thick, and ready.

Her throat went dry.

“Now you,” he urged, kneeling on the side of the bed and reaching for her.

She undid the drawstring of her chemise, and he peeled it slowly from her, gazing in absorbed delight as her nakedness was revealed.

“Now it’s my turn to smile,” he said, his dark eyes dancing. “You’re not only beautiful on the inside, my beloved Flora, you’re beautiful everywhere.”

Flattery and an incendiary touch. A heady combination. Her body was now completely in thrall to this man, and her heart was at risk of becoming so, too.

He braced himself above her, then bent his head and nuzzled against her neck and took some short, nipping bites.

She bucked in response and twisted her head, offering up more to him. His hand slid over her throat and down her breastbone, found her nipple again, and fondled the erect bud while his mouth sucked at her earlobe, sending shaft after shaft of pleasure spearing through her body.

She squeezed her legs together, to enhance the exquisite sensation which had sprung into being at his touch. He felt the movement, braced himself on one elbow, and pushed his free hand between her legs, twisted it, and pressed up against her body. He found the sensitized nub hidden beneath her feminine folds and manipulated it with his thumb.

Instantly, the sensitivity of her body increased a hundredfold. Every part of her wanted him, every inch of exposed flesh ached for his touch, but even more urgent was her need to feel him inside her, where she knew, instinctively, he belonged.

As his thumb massaged, she let out a series of appreciative little cries. She bucked beneath him, and his erection brushed across her feminine curls, tantalizingly grazing her body. She was wet and more than ready for him, so to give him a nudge, she caught hold of his shaft and ran her hand along its length, slowly stroking the silken hardness.

“I think,” he said, his breath coming in quick, hiccupping bursts, “I now have the shameless Madame Julietta beneath me. The very proper, genteel Miss Flora Hartington has most certainly departed.”

“Temporarily,” agreed Flora, and she could hardly believe the deep, husky sound of her own voice. She tried to push his erection down between her legs, but he eased away and reached into a small box attached to one of the wagon bows. Feverish with need, she groaned with annoyance.

“Patience,” he admonished. “I always use a silk sheath. You’ll enjoy the sensation, I promise.”

She stretched her arms above her head in glorious wantonness and arched her back. She didn’t mind what he did, so long as he did it soon.

Moments later, her prayers were answered. When he pushed against her thighs, she parted her legs so he could lower himself between them.

He paused, the tip of his manhood resting gently against her delicate folds, and said, “Now there’s no need for either of us to wait.”

With a feral grin, he pressed himself slowly, but surely, inside her.

A brief flash of surprise crossed his face, to be replaced immediately by an expression of intense concentration. She anchored her hands into his hair as he began to move.

Each thrust made her cry out her pleasure, and as he picked up speed, he cried out as well. She gazed up at his handsome face as he drove into her, retreated, and surged forward again, each penetration deeper than the last, each punctuated by a shuddering intake of his breath.

His body hit her sensitive spot with every movement, the full, hard length of him invading the secret recesses of her body, being welcomed by her own moist warmth.

Bottles clinked against one another as the wagon rocked with the force of their passion, but the relentless plunging of his body, which sent wave after wave of sensation coursing through her, was still not enough.

She wrapped her legs around his back and urged him deeper, and deeper, until she knew he could fill her no more.

He lost his rhythm then. His head arched back in acute pleasure, his body thrust and withdrew with an awkward judder over which he seemed to have no control.

As he voiced his climax, she found hers, and her body shattered into myriad shards of elemental ecstasy. Her head pulsed with the fury of it, her heart pounded with sensual exhaustion and her legs squeezed together, milking every last drop of pleasure.

Gradually, their breathing slowed, and he allowed his body to rest lightly on hers, covering her female vulnerability with his assertive maleness.

Oh, what a glorious sensation! The pressure of his hard, hot body, the feel of his manhood still pulsing with life inside her, eking every last second of sensation from their joining.

She could lie like this forever. Only— Would it be too sinful to see if they might manage it again?

She watched his adored face as he came to himself again. There was a strange look in his eyes. Not one of possession, or masculine triumph—but not one of affection, either. Was there a shadow of…hurt?

Before she could wonder what might have caused it, he said softly, “Flora, why didn’t you tell me you weren’t a virgin?”