by Debra Glass
Cathleen gulped. She didn’t respond.
“Get up. Come with me.”
“I told you to be quiet,” she bit out. “Do you want to wake Jenny?”
“I no longer give a goddamn who knows.” His eyes narrowed into slits. He lunged forward, jerked back the covers and hauled her into his arms, tossing her over his shoulder as if she weighed no more than a sack of grain.
“Put me down,” she hissed.
He ducked out the door and carried her down the stairs. Once they reached the ground, and it became apparent he was intent on carrying her all the way to his house, Cathleen began to struggle.
“Let me go. I don’t want to go with you,” she said, continuing her barrage of heated whispers.
He merely grunted and trudged on, despite her flailing arms and legs. Anger fueled with need blazed through her limbs and just as he neared his house, she landed a kick to his groin.
A muffled “oof” came from his gut and he dropped to his knees in the grass. Cathleen’s attempts to escape were foiled when he wrangled her like a calf and then flung himself on top of her to keep her from fighting.
She pushed at his shoulders and tried to gain leverage with her bare feet, but his body pressed into hers in all the wrong places. He was deliciously heavy and his evident arousal cutting into the soft flesh of her abdomen made her want to give in.
“Damn it, Cathleen,” he said, finally able to form words. “Be still.”
She shoved his shoulders once more and looked up at him. “You…you told her I was…a…a mouse.”
“I lied.”
Alarm thundered through her when he growled and roughly wrenched up her nightrail so he could wedge his hand between their bodies.
“Ransom!” Cathleen cried, but he silenced any further protest by covering her mouth with his own.
Her traitorous hips tilted toward his probing fingers. Dampness betrayed her desire.
Breathless, he dragged his lips from hers, reaching between them to work the buttons on his fly.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice rising in pitch.
“Shut up, Cathleen.”
Stunned, she gaped as the head of his cock raked through her folds, parting her. Her eyes grew wide. He was going to take her!
Did he mean to claim her virginity right here on the ground? His eyes met hers and, even in the dark, she could read the question there. Though he clearly didn’t want to, he would stop if she requested it.
She debated, but only for an instant.
Wild passion crackled as she threaded her fingers in his thick hair and pulled his head down. It was all the impetus he needed. Just as their lips fused, he thrust inside her.
Growing rigid, she gasped in his mouth as a brief moment of pain fired through her, but he didn’t stop. Stretching her, he filled her until his pelvis touched hers.
This was it. She’d done the unthinkable. She’d allowed him to ruin her.
So why didn’t she feel ruined?
She felt…cherished.
He held still and kissed her until she relaxed, and then he withdrew, pushed himself up, gathered her into his arms and carried her inside. He didn’t stop until he lay her on his bed.
Cathleen pulled her nightgown off over her head and flung it in the floor. He came to her once more, kissing her as they both undressed him. His body seemed fevered and restless. So did hers.
Love for him mingled with erotic need, and the heady mixture intoxicated her. She brushed her palms over his bare chest as his shirt slithered down his arms to the floor. She explored the hard planes of his back and hips as he wrested free of his trousers and kicked out of them.
This time, when he joined her, there was no pain. Only the fullness, the insistent stretch that left her without a doubt who dominated her, who claimed her. She cried out and burrowed her short nails into his back. Every moment, every slow slide of his phallus awakened tissue inside her that had never been touched until this moment.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured against her throat as he peppered it with kisses. “I’m sorry. I can’t be gentle with you. God, Cathleen…” His hips pumped rhythmically, transporting her to some other realm where only pleasure existed.
Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. Joy and bliss welled so hard in her heart she feared she couldn’t contain it.
His movements quickened. He reared above her, the muscles in his arms bulging and rippling as he braced himself. Seeming incapable of restraint, he thrust into her, one punishing surge after another until his face contorted. A low groan tore from his throat as he hastily withdrew his cock so that his seed spilled onto her belly.
“Cathleen.” He whispered her name before his fingers threaded into the hair at her nape and he collapsed on top of her.
His mouth sought hers and his once ardent kisses turned so tender, more tears spilled from Cathleen’s eyes.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, lifting his head and brushing one of her tears away with the pad of his thumb.
She shook her head. God, she couldn’t think with his still-hard cock pressing against her belly.
“You’re crying.”
She sniffed. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t admit the reason for her tears was because she was in love with him. Some part of her realized she’d never again be as happy as she was in this moment.
He dipped his head and kissed every inch of her neck and then traced her collarbone with his lips. “I couldn’t stay away from you,” he admitted.
“Don’t tease me,” she uttered. Her channel clenched, aching to feel him inside once more.
He gazed down at her. “I don’t know what Harriet said to you, but she doesn’t know me.”
Cathleen couldn’t bear to make eye contact with him. She feared he’d see too much.
“She doesn’t know us,” he said.
Cathleen’s lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes. Was he admitting that he had feelings for her? She didn’t dare hope.
A smile played at one corner of his mouth. “You’re far too practical for any of the nonsense Harriet was going on about.”
“P-practical?”
“Love and marriage.”
Cathleen’s hopes crumbled to dust around her.
He traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “Your ideas about marriage haven’t changed…have they?”
She shook her head. “No.” Tell him! Tell him you’re in love with him! She opened her mouth to speak, but he spoke first.
“She doesn’t know about our agreement,” he said. “You’re a realist, Cathleen. Sound minded. I like that about you.”
Realistic? He’d evidently complimented her, but his seemingly kind words struck her like a dagger to the heart. She drew in a deep breath but it did little to lessen the aching in her chest.
He moved down her body and latched onto one of her breasts. His tongue swept around her nipple, flicking it to life. An invisible chord of desire fused between the hardening tip and her clitoris. All coherent thought evaporated as his thumb began to press and circle the needy bud between her legs.
“I could fuck you the rest of the night,” he promised then moved to the other breast.
Heat swirled through her being. She reached for his hips and tilted hers upward in an unspoken invitation. He moved over her again and this time, his cock penetrated her easily. “Oh,” she managed as he thrust all the way in, awakening those muscles all over again.
“Your cunny feels so good inside,” he said in her ear. “So tight.”
He angled his body so that his groin created pressure and friction on her most sensitive parts. She spread her thighs until they burned from the strain. Need consumed her and all thoughts of love and her future slipped away as her body claimed control of her conscious.
“I’ve wanted to be inside you for so long,” he murmured.
Awash in his sensual declarations and the feel of his body moving over and into her, Cathleen clung. Her senses soared. This pleasure coupled with her lo
ve for him rendered moot every thought to which she’d heretofore subscribed. How could he say these things and do these things to her and not feel the same way she did?
“Your body was made for mine. Feel how we fit together.” His words rained over her.
One of his hands slipped behind her neck and he anchored her as he drove into her. Groin slapped groin in rapid succession. She held fast to his iron-hard biceps, opening her thighs impossibly wider to accept thrust after punishing thrust. Ecstasy ratcheted increasingly higher. She teetered on the edge of it, willing herself to fall. Almost…
“Let it happen,” he commanded through clenched teeth. “Come for me, Cathleen.”
As if his words had worked a magic spell, bliss shattered her, erupting from where they were connected to detonate through every limb, shooting shards of pleasure to her toes, her fingers, her scalp. “Ransom!” His name came out in one forceful breath.
He continued to pummel her until she became mindless, and then again, he pulled out, snatched her hand and guided her to finish him. Her fingers closed around his slick shaft. After two strokes, he groaned and his seed unfurled like a shimmering white ribbon across her belly and between her breasts.
Breathless, he sagged, lying half on top of her. He cupped one of her breasts possessively and pressed a lazy kiss to her earlobe. “You looked so beautiful tonight,” he said softly. His warm, whiskey-tinged breath fanned her shoulder.
“I didn’t think you were coming,” she said, trying to absorb everything that had just happened. “It meant so much to Jenny that you were there.”
He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t there to see Jenny.”
In stunned silence, Cathleen tensed. How could he say these things and then inform her that he never intended to marry? Confusion muddled her thoughts. “I don’t…I don’t understand,” she stammered.
He chuckled and pushed off her. “Neither do I.”
She remained on the bed while he dipped a cloth into the basin on his washstand. Even in darkness, he was magnificent. His body looked as if it had been sculpted by the gods.
He returned with the wet cloth and climbed back onto the bed. Cathleen watched his face as he lay on his side and tenderly bathed the traces of their lovemaking away.
How could he be so caring, so gentle with her if he intended to ride away and never see her again?
She searched his eyes. I love you.
Her lips parted. She had to tell him. She had to.
But reality slammed her hard. He was planning to leave. He wasn’t looking for permanence. Far from it. Besides, she had important work to do and he’d made his feelings quite clear on her ideas about equality.
She’d foolishly allowed her physical reaction to him to get in her way, for if by some improbable chance they were to marry, she’d resent him the minute he required her to become a farmer’s wife with no political aspirations.
“I can’t keep my hands off you,” he told her and kissed her so deeply it made her toes curl. “Or my lips.”
She refused to think as he continued to kiss every inch of her body. Her mouth, her face, her ears and neck. He paid special attention to each breast and then moved lower to nuzzle and kiss her belly. When he shouldered between her legs, she parted her thighs and threaded her fingers into his hair as he lowered his head and carried her to ecstasy yet again.
While she still floated, he thrust inside her, taking his time.
Afterward, she dozed off in his arms and didn’t awaken until the rooster crowed.
* * * * *
Ransom’s eyes opened and sleepily, he realized Cathleen lay naked and tangled in his arms. Outside, the rooster heralded the dawn. The whole house would be coming to life in minutes—but Ransom didn’t want to let her go just yet.
When he brushed her hair off her face, she opened her eyes. She gazed at him for a moment and shock seized her features. “What time is it? How long have I been asleep?”
“It’s morning,” he said, and as if to punctuate his statement, the rooster crowed again.
“Dear Lord,” she muttered and sat. “I have to get back.”
“Stay,” he urged.
Her eyes searched his. “Do you really think we should get caught up in this? That we should risk everything for…for sex?”
He stared, unable to think of anything to say. He didn’t like this pain that flared up in his chest.
“What would Jenny think? And Aunt Chloe? I couldn’t bear her reproach,” Cathleen said as she flung back the covers and searched frantically for her nightgown.
She found it and let it unfurl, only to discover a telltale bloodstain on the back.
Guilt swamped Ransom at how carelessly he’d taken her virginity. “Cathleen…”
“What’s done is done,” she said matter-of-factly. “But I don’t know how I’ll ever get this stain out.”
He peeled back the covers and went to her. She didn’t resist when he dragged her into his arms. “I…spoiled you.”
“Spoiled? You hardly sp—”
He put a finger to her lips to silence her. “Don’t you ever stop talking?” he asked with a smile.
The morning light glittered in her black eyes and, holding his gaze, she kissed his fingertip.
“I spoiled you. I’m sorry. I’ll speak to the parson about marrying us as soon as possible.” His heart began to pound. All his adult life, he’d avoided this very thing and now he thought it would crush him if she refused.
He didn’t know when his attitude had changed. Perhaps it was his excuse to remain at Byrne’s End. Maybe it was the idea of ever being separated from this woman again. He didn’t know and wasn’t sure. Confusion racked him.
Her eyes widened. All her earlier flirtatiousness faded. She studied him and he struggled to stay silent, to give her a chance to respond. After several seconds, she jerked free of his embrace and brandished the stained nightrail. “Because of this?” She shook it at him like a fist before she whirled and then pulled the garment on over her head.
Her entire body trembled. “I thought we discussed that,” she said, her voice wavering. “You don’t want to get married. Especially not to a plain mouse such as I.”
“Cathleen, I only said those things to Harriet because I—well, because I’m an ass. She was getting ideas about marriage and—”
She spun to face him. “Oh. I see. So you can dally with her.” She waved her arms at the word dally. “But you won’t marry her because you don’t owe it to her. You didn’t take her virginity. I’ve got news for you. You didn’t take mine either. I gave it to you because I wanted to.”
“Cathleen…”
“We’ve taken this thing too far.”
“But you wanted—”
She stood, fists clenched at her sides. Moisture rimmed her eyes. “I know what I wanted in the heat of passion. I was clearly not considering the possibilities.”
Ransom stared. Something was wrong. Something had changed between them. And though his heart ached, concern for what he’d done or said to upset her rose to the forefront.
“I won’t bring it up again,” he said and reached for his coat. “At least let me walk with you back to the big house.”
He slipped his frock coat around her shoulders to hide the stain on her gown. He pulled on his trousers, shoved his feet into his boots, donned a shirt and then accompanied her outside.
No lights shone in the house yet. Disappointment twisted inside him. A part of him hoped they’d be found out. Maybe then she’d come to her senses and allow him to marry her. But even if they were caught, he doubted she’d succumb to societal pressures.
Red hues of dawn peeped over the horizon, portending an impending storm.
Head down, she walked fast and he took long strides to keep up with her pace. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she turned and offered her hand as if they’d just completed a business transaction.
Ransom snarled. Her refusal should have infuriated him. Instead, he found it irresistibly aro
using. “Get up those stairs.”
She blinked and then quietly hurried up the stairs to the room. He followed.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“I’ll be damned if we’re going to stop,” he ground out and hauled her into his arms to kiss her.
Her struggles only caused him to hold tighter. He thrust his tongue between her lips, forcing her to respond. Her soft protests turned to whimpers and triumph blazed through him when she helped him drag up the hem of her nightgown.
He reached between her legs. She was wet. Good. “Bend over,” he commanded.
She obeyed and bent over the side of the bed. Ransom freed his erection, raked the head through her folds and then thrust inside her damp heat. Pleasure racked him. He dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her bottom and held still. Why couldn’t he get enough of her?
“Touch yourself,” he whispered. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”
Her hand flew downward and he felt the circular pressure of her fingertips as he began to drive into her from behind. His sac swung against her. A wild sense of possessiveness consumed him as he gazed down at her, still dressed in his frock coat, her hair loose and tumbling over the bedclothes.
He bent and brushed her hand away as he took control of her pleasure with his own fingers. Eyes squeezed shut, she bit the quilt to muffle her moans. Her channel contracted around him and her body grew stiff. She was beautiful in the throes of ecstasy. Beautiful.
Once she was sated, he withdrew and finished himself until he’d spent his seed in the crease of her buttocks. Afterward, he braced both hands on either side of her head and bent to whisper in her ear. “As long as you’re at Byrne’s End, you’re mine, Cathleen Ryan. Do you hear me? Mine.”
Eyes still closed, she gave him a little nod.
He nuzzled her ear, breathed in the scent of her, kissed her temple and then left.
Still trembling, Cathleen pushed herself up. Her body hummed with the lingering intensity of her orgasm. She bit the back of her index finger to keep from bursting into tears. Ransom had uttered the words she’d most wanted to hear from him.
I’ll speak to the parson about marrying us as soon as possible.