Page 20 of Charity

“Do you blame me?”

He kissed her again, gently, but the pads of his fingers moved closer to where she wanted them at a snail’s pace. In frustration, Agatha pushed her tongue into his mouth with more insistence than usual, holding his head close to hers so he could not control everything.

Finally, his fingers touched her curls. Agatha flexed her hips toward his hand, desperate for more. Now. He parted her lower lips, pressing into her body, sliding across her slick entrance.

Agatha tightened her grip on his length, moving her hand against the rhythm of his flexing hips. When he gasped, shuddering away from her touch, Agatha chuckled. Poor Oscar, he’d taught her his desires far too well. She knew every little devious trick to bring him pleasure, too.

But the thought of never touching him again trickled into the back of her mind. She’d never experience a moment like this again. She didn’t want anyone else. Agatha buried her head to his shoulder to hide her sadness from him.

“You don’t want this, do you?” Oscar asked as he dropped his head to her chest, his breath a fast pant across her damp skin.

“Don’t leave me like this, Oscar. I’ll run mad.”

His lips pressed against her skin. “Then I’d run mad with you.”

Oscar shifted out of her grip. He hovered above, but then slowly fitted himself at her entrance. Agatha wriggled to make room for him and then he was sliding inside. The slow joining took her breath away.

When he was settled deep, she met his gaze. Gray eyes had brightened to an intense silver, holding her fascinated as he moved within her. Agatha captured his rear with one hand, his nipple with her other fingers, and squeezed. His slow coupling faltered, but soon resumed the steady possession.

She hitched her legs high around his waist, opening her body to him fully, tilting her hips at a better angle. A sweet flush of pleasure swept over her skin.

“That’s it. Bring me deeper into you.”

Agatha gripped his bottom to his thigh, tucking him tighter against her, allowing him little movement. His eyes widened with alarm, but his careful passion broke. He thrust harder, pounding against her body so hard she shuddered. The careful lover replaced by the wild one.

The less gentle man.

The one she loved.

Agatha left off her explorations of Oscar’s body, clutched his shoulder with one hand, then slid her fingers down her own body to touch herself. Although she’d pushed Oscar’s passions higher, she wanted to come with him, to feel her body peak as he did.

She inched her hand between them, slicking her fingers as Oscar’s wet length entered and left her body. He groaned then bent his head to capture her lips. Joined with him in every way possible, Agatha let pleasure take her to the edge and beyond. She sobbed into his mouth as her pleasure spiked, shuddering around the rigid length embedded inside her body. Oscar pressed deep, holding still as she found her release. But then he jerked free and the hot moisture’s sting of his release bathed her thigh.

He’d never withdrawn before.

Humiliated, Agatha blinked back tears. The futile wish of a forever after with Oscar had been truly denied her. When he ceased groaning, she pulled him hard against her chest and held him until she regained control of her emotions.

Oscar turned his head and kissed her cheek. “I’ve missed you, so badly.”

Instead of answering, Agatha pushed him away. “That is neither here nor there. We cannot and should not be alone again. Let that be the end of it.”

He sat up with a groan. “I know. I don’t trust myself either. Are you all right?”

Agatha swung her feet to the floor and stood shakily. “Of course.” But her gown stuck to her leg and she hurried to the washbasin to cleanse herself.

Behind her, Oscar dressed swiftly. “I was mad to ever let things go so far with you. I’m truly sorry that we cannot remain as we were.”

Agatha shrugged, saddened he thought their friendship a mistake, too. Once, when she’d thought his betrothal a terrible injustice, she’d hoped he’d throw propriety aside and whisk her to Gretna Green for an anvil wedding. It wouldn’t be exactly what she’d dreamed. She’d hoped to marry in St. George’s Church. But at least they would have wed.

Oscar approached and, instead of pulling her into his embrace, he merely kissed her shoulder. “Promise me you will take more care on the streets. You almost died today.”

Agatha turned slowly. “Did you follow on my heels?”

He cupped her face. “I caught you before you were run down. Were you so angry that you didn’t hear me call out to you?”

Agatha looked away, discomfited that he’d been so close to her, that he’d touched her, and she’d not noticed. Even in a crowded ballroom, separated by half the ton, she’d been aware of his location at any other time. Agatha had always taken her awareness of him as one more reason they were meant to be. “You should go.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair and turned for the window. Yet he hesitated, hovering with one leg raised in preparation for the final step through.