Page 88 of A Winter Scandal

He had done his best to stop thinking about her mane of wild curls and how it had looked floating down around her shoulders and over her breasts, the tendrils parting just enough for the pink-tipped nipples to peek through, tantalizing and beckoning, as she sat astride his hips, riding him to her climax. Or the way her hair had tumbled over the pillow, spread out like a fan from her head, as he sank deep within her, driven by a heated desire so intense it was almost pain. He remembered the glisten of her nipple, damp from his mouth, the slick satin of her nether lips beneath his fingers. He remembered the soft touch of her fingers on his bare skin, the taste of her tongue in his mouth, the soft moan of her passion in his ear.

It had been the very devil getting to sleep every night. He told himself to choose a likely wench from the tavern to slake his thirst. That had always been his way in the past if he lusted after a lady he could not have, and it had worked well enough. But no longer, apparently. None of the women he saw about him appealed—this one was too short, that one too coarse, the other too overripe. The truth was, not one of them caused a single spike to his desire, and he had the distinct suspicion that if he bedded any of them, there would be no lessening of his need for Thea. What he wanted was to feel her long legs wrapped around him, her lips exploring his skin, her sweet mysteries opening to him.

The realization was astounding … and just a bit frightening.

Was he doomed to spend the rest of his life on this knife edge of desire? Desperate and hungry, panting after a woman whom only two or three weeks ago he had scarcely noticed? It was mad. Nonsensical.

What he ought to do, he told himself, was go back to London until this madness passed. There, among the beauties of the city, he would forget those cool gray eyes and the way they sparkled when she was amused. His fingers would stop itching to sink into her hair and pull it down, sending the pins flying. He would not spend every waking minute dreaming of losing himself in her, vaulting into that dark, blissful abyss.

But it was even more nonsensical to tear himself away from her when all he wanted was to see her again. What he really needed, he knew, was to find some way to be with her all the time, to drink his fill, to expend his lust in long, heated nights of lovemaking. The answer would be a week or two … or three … alone with her. What he wanted was something like a … a honeymoon.

That idea brought him up short. Was he actually thinking of marriage? Surely not. He enjoyed his life as a bachelor. Someday he would marry to carry on the line, but that would not be anytime soon. One did not marry simply because a certain woman drove him mad with lust. There must be much more than that … companionship and similarity of interest, for example. Love, if one was lucky. Gabriel had come to a stop, deep in thought, and now he glanced around himself. He had reached the graveyard of the church. He looked across the river, where the dark block of the vicarage lay. A warm light burned from behind the windows. He looked up at the second floor, wondering if the lit window there was Thea’s bedroom.

Desire, never far from the surface lately, surged up in him. Whatever was he doing, standing among the gravestones, when the woman he had been thinking of for the past three days was only a few yards away from him?

He strode rapidly past the church and across the bridge. His knock on the front door came quite close to pounding. He waited, every nerve raw, until the door swung open. Thea stood in the doorway, light bathing her from the candelabra on the table beside her. She wore a plain dark dress, and a kerchief covered her head.

She looked utterly beautiful.

“Thea.” He stepped inside, sweeping her up into his arms in the same motion, and fastened his mouth to hers.

She threw her arms around his neck, fervently returning his kiss. Frustrated by his heavy coat, he reached between them, undoing the buttons and shoving the sides apart. He could feel the swell of her breasts as she pressed into his chest, the pert, hard thrust of her nipples. Gabriel tore the kerchief from Thea’s head and plunged his hands into her hair, holding her head still as his lips found hers again.

Gabriel kissed her as if he would consume her, his mouth leaving hers only to change the angle of their kiss, and all the while he kissed her, his hands roamed her body hungrily, sweeping down her back and curving over her hips. When Thea pulled away, he reached instinctively to draw her back, but she took his hand and tugged, leading him down the hall and into the sitting room.

Thea closed the door behind them, saying, “Daniel is away; he won’t be back—”

Her words were cut off by Gabriel, who, having shrugged out of his topcoat and dropped it on the floor, took her in his arms again. “The others?” he asked thickly, raining kisses over her face and neck.

“They’re in the kitchen, making supper.”

He walked her back until she came up against the door, continuing to kiss her. Bunching her skirts up, he slid his hands beneath her petticoats and in between her legs, caressing her through the cloth of her undergarments. Finding the tie of her pantalets, he jerked it loose and shoved them down and off, his hand seeking out the soft, slick folds of flesh. The sound of Thea’s breath catching in her throat sent his hunger surging even higher.

“Sweet heaven, I’ve missed you,” he breathed. “I could think of nothing but you.”

Her answer was only a soft moan as his fingers teased and stroked, bringing her to the trembling edge of satisfaction. He reached down and unbuttoned his breeches, and his engorged manhood sprang free. Thea’s fingers curled around him, and he stiffened all over, struggling to hold on to his control. Her fingers were maddeningly soft and caressing as they moved slowly over him, and his passion swelled even higher.

He reached beneath her hips, lifting her, and Thea went to him eagerly, opening her legs and wrapping them around him. He slid into her with a motion so achingly pleasurable that he had to sink his teeth into his lower lip to keep from crying out. Gabriel braced her against the door and began to move inside her. He dropped his head to her neck, muffling his hoarse, muttered words against her flesh. The need was so fierce in him he thought he must explode, and yet it continued to build, pushing him ever closer to the edge. There was nothing in the world but this moment, Thea’s body surrounding him, her long legs clasping him to her, his driving need buried deep in her softness, the two of them melded together in a white-hot joining.

He heard the soft noise that issued from Thea’s throat as he felt her convulse around him, and the world shattered into pleasure. Passion swept through him in a massive wave as he shuddered against her, his seed pouring into her.

Gabriel was not sure how long it was before he returned to reason. They could have stood there, pressed against the heavy door, for a minute or an hour; it was all the same to him. Slowly he released her and moved back, letting her slide down to the floor.

“I would say I am sorry,” he said hoarsely, his breath labored, “but I am not.”

“Nor am I,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I am accustomed to having more control. But there is something about you that drives me nearly mad.” He smiled and kissed her lightly on each cheek. “I had not meant to greet you quite this … effusively.”

Thea giggled and reached up to touch her hair, where several strands had escaped and fallen down. “I must look a mess. I was cleaning upstairs when I saw you walking up the path.”

“You look beautiful.” It astonished him that he had once thought her looks only passable. She dazzled him now.

Thea colored prettily at his words. “I should …” She made a vague gesture toward her clothes.

He turned away and righted himself, giving her a bit of privacy to adjust her own clothes. When he turned back around, Thea had gone to the mirror against the far wall and was busy trying to pin her hair back in place. Gabriel dropped down into a chair and watched her, enjoying the intimacy of the scene. He felt happier than he had in days.

Thea gave her hair a final pat and pivoted back to face him. She looked put together again, but the flush in her cheeks and the soft curve of her mouth gave her away. Gabriel’s smile widened, and her cheeks reddened a little more, but the flashing look she gave him did not seem displeased.