by Merry Farmer
Lucky for him, whoever was the last person to use the cottage, they’d left the back door unlocked. He let himself and Ellie in, put her suitcase down, and headed straight toward the fireplace in the lodge’s main room.
“It’s a good thing for both of us that Mother insists the lodge is stocked with wood and kindling at all times,” Henry said. Now that he had Ellie back and in one piece, part of him was able to see the humor in their situation. “Knowing her, there are probably spare sandwiches and tea in the kitchen as well.”
“Henry, I’m sorry I ran off without talking to your first,” Ellie said, ignoring his favor and sounding genuinely repentant. “It was just so horrible at the garden party today. Your mother’s friends were mean to me, and Olympia is a snake and—”
Henry abandoned his fire-starting efforts, stood, stepped over to her, and pulled her into his arms for a long, deep kiss. Not only was Ellie silenced, both of them relaxed into each other, shedding layers of anxiety and tension in favor of the heat and comfort they found in each other’s arms. Henry had never dreamed that a kiss could communicate so much emotion, so much relief.
When they were both loose with desire, he leaned back, brushing a wet strand of hair back from her face. “I know how horrible Mother’s friends can be. I can’t imagine what you must have had to endure. But let’s get a fire going so we can warm up.”
“I dunno,” Ellie said, a teasing grin pulling at her lips, her hooded gaze beyond tempting. “I’m suddenly feeling pretty warm how we are.”
Henry’s body responded with a rush of blood to all the right places. He kissed her again, licking the raindrops from her lips. “We’re going to need to shed these wet clothes if we’re ever going to dry out.”
An excited flush stained her cheeks, and her eyes flashed with desire. “We are, aren’t we.”
“We’d better get started.”
He let her go, then turned to shed his coat before turning his attention to the fire. He’d built a thousand fires in his life, but suddenly, knowing that Ellie was peeling off her wet clothes behind him, it was next to impossible to get his fingers to strike matches and hold them to the haphazardly-stacked firewood. The whole thing did eventually catch, growing into crackling flames. And as soon as he stood and turned around, he was ready to burst into flames as well.
Ellie had stripped down to her soaking-wet chemise and drawers. Neither of the flimsy garments did a damn thing to hide the magnificent shape of her. The generous mounds of her breasts were completely visible beneath clinging, wet cotton, their nipples pert from the cold. The soft shape of her thighs stood out boldly, like a perfectly carved statue from antiquity, the thatch of dark curls at their juncture teasing him with the promise of what it hid. His own sodden clothing was an uncomfortable prison.
Everything about her was so unbelievably beautiful and desirable, that without warning, he blurted, “I love you, Ellie.” They both blinked at the forcefulness of his words. “I love you more than I ever thought possible,” he pushed on, embracing the madness and freedom of his declaration. “I want to be with you always, no matter what. Marry me.”
THE SMOLDERING HEAT that had built so fast inside of Ellie when Henry kissed her flared to something she hadn’t felt before, something that went beyond physical need.
“You love me?” Of course he did. She’d known it for days. But now she could feel that love in a way she hadn’t before.
“More than I ever thought possible.” He stepped toward her, circling his arms around her and pulling her against him. His hands explored her freely, one dipping down to cup her backside, the other sliding up her side to brush her breast.
The ache that seemed a constant presence in her life from the moment Henry had kissed her deepened, making it hard for her to think. She wanted to throw his wet clothes off and explore every inch of the hot, firm flesh underneath. But something stuck in her mind, like a burr she couldn’t reach to remove.
“Marry me,” Henry said again, bringing his mouth close to hers. “Be my wife, forever.”
The ache within her turned to pain. “I can’t,” she said. Her heart felt as though it would rip in two at those simple words. “I can’t, Henry.”
“Why not?” He continued to hold her, his mouth hovering just inches above hers. “We belong together. I know you can feel that as I do.”
“I don’t belong in your world,” she said, her throat closing up.
“Neither do I.”
Ellie’s breath caught in her throat. She studied his eyes to see if he was just saying that to appease her or if he really meant it. More than anything, she wanted him to mean it.
“I’m not sure if I’ve ever belonged in this world,” Henry went on. The spark of pain in his eyes at the admission convinced Ellie he was speaking the absolute truth. “I’ve never felt as though it was my calling to consume wealth and attend parties, and to do nothing more than create another generation destined to do the same. I’ve always longed to do something substantial with my life. And then you came along….”
He loosened his hold on her, leaning back. His hand came up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing across her cheek. Of all things, the widened distance increased the intimacy between them, made her burn hotter.
“You are the most courageous person I’ve ever known, Ellie. You left a life behind and took a huge risk to start over.”
“But the risk didn’t really pay off,” Ellie reminded him gently, although she was still enthralled by the passion in his eyes and the intensity behind his words.
“Oh, but it did pay off,” he went on. “You discovered something new. You took a chance. And when you go back, you will be stronger and wiser for everything you’ve learned.”
She blinked, confused that he could talk about her going back to Haskell while still holding her like she was his own and grinning as though he knew a secret. “So…so you’re not going to try to make me stay?” An alarmingly large part of her was hurt by the possibility.
“No,” he said, his thumb still brushing her hot cheek. “I won’t make you stay somewhere you’re miserable. But I will beg you to take me with you.”
Ellie’s eyes went wide. “Take you with me? To Haskell?”
“As your devoted husband.” He lowered his hand to her back, pressing her body against his. “As your utterly besotted lover.”
Ellie’s whole body quivered with longing at the suggestion. The ache she had felt before was nothing to the stirring that overtook her, body and soul, as Henry captured her mouth in a kiss. For a man who had just begged her to change his life, he took the lead with firm command. His hands slid to her sides, grabbing the wet fabric of her chemise and tugging it up. He was forced to break their kiss as he lifted the flimsy garment all the way up her raised arms and tossed it aside. He tugged the soaked drawstring of her drawers next, peeling them down over her thighs.
As soon as she stepped out of them, kicking them aside, Henry swept her back into his arms to pick up their kiss where they’d left off. Ellie sighed and leaned into him as he plunged his tongue alongside hers. She threaded her fingers into his damp hair, certain that steam was curling off both of them as they heated up.
He stroked his hand down her back, over her backside, and lifted her leg across his hip. She groaned deep in her throat at the hard evidence of his desire as he ground against her, then caught her breath as he reached under her thigh to seek out the heat between her legs. His fingertips explored her folds, wet, but not from the rain. She’d never been touched in such an unusual way, from such an uncommon angle. The newness of something she’d experienced a thousand times, but never with the kind of love that pulsed between them, left her panting and ready for more.
She tugged at his damp shirt, desperate to press as much of her skin to his as possible, but too wild with need to effectively undress him. The heady sounds he made as he both kissed her and tried to writhe his way out of his shirt drove her wild. They were finally forced to break apart, cold air swirling in b
etween them, causing Ellie to break out in goose flesh and tremble with more than just cold. Henry pried off his boots while still standing, tossed them aside, then peeled off his shirt. The well-formed muscles of his torso rippled as he moved. Ellie licked her lips, aching to explore every inch of him. He undid the fastenings of his trousers and pushed them, along with his drawers, down his strong legs.
When he stood, fully naked, Ellie’s trembling spread through her insides. His cock sprang up, thick and long and ready. Her head filled with all the ways she wanted to touch him, stroke him with her hands, take him into her mouth and swallow him as deeply as she could. She wanted to hear him moan with pleasure, see his face contort in orgasm, feel his seed hit the back of her throat as he came apart.
He must have seen all of that in her eyes. He advanced on her with the strength of a conquering army, sweeping her into his arms and lifting her off her feet. There must have been a bedroom in the lodge somewhere, but he only took her as far as the long, faded sofa that faced the fireplace. With an energy that made her want to both succumb to him and ravish him at the same time, he spread her across the sofa, then lowered himself on top of her.
His mouth and hands seemed to be everywhere at once. He kissed her, demanding surrender and passion, as his hand cupped and squeezed her breast. Ellie let out a sigh that turned into a cry of need as he pinched her nipple. She writhed under him, arching her hips and seeking to bring more beautiful friction to her clitoris. He responded by jerking his hips to rub his cock against her thigh. His movements were so powerful that she was sure he would spill himself against her hip.
Before he could, he shifted, breaking contact with her there to bring his mouth down to her breast. Without preamble, taking what he wanted and giving her so much in return, he closed his mouth around her nipple and sucked. A cry of pleasure so intense that for a moment Ellie thought it was thunder ripped from her lungs. Yes. This was what she wanted. She wanted Henry using her body for what it was always meant for—to please him. And her. He teased and aroused her with his lips and teeth and tongue, caressing her other breast with his hand and pinching her nipple hard enough to elicit mind numbing pleasure from her without truly hurting her. She’d always considered her breasts as just tools of her job, but for the first time, the way a man touched and treated them brought her scintillatingly close to coming.
Her breath sped up, and with it the tiny pants of pleasure she couldn’t control. Henry must have sensed how close to the edge she was and pulled away, dropping feather-light kisses across her stomach.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as she drew back from the edge, aching even harder after being denied fulfillment. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re more.”
“Henry,” she sighed, unable to form any other word, any other thought.
He continued to rain gentle kisses across her abdomen. They were delicious, magical, and they drove her crazy. She wanted so much more. She wanted his hands on her, his mouth and tongue to taste her in the most intimate way possible. She wanted him to do every intimate thing that had ever been done to her, even the ones she had hated, coming from other men. With Henry, it would be different. With him, there would be temptation, teasing, adventure. With him, there would be love.
He slid farther down the sofa, spreading her legs wider apart. But instead of bringing an end to the glorious misery he was inflicting on her, he continued planting soft, light kisses on her thighs. Each one came closer to her center, closer to the part of her that was throbbing with the need to have him sheathe himself in her. She began to shake again with the intensity of the need as his kisses tortured her.
“Henry,” she panted. “Henry, please.”
He responded with a low, wicked laugh that left her dying for more. His kisses grew closer to the center of her, his hands following along, nudging her legs open wider. She didn’t care how awkward and exposed her position on the sofa was, if he didn’t bring an end to this sweet torture soon, she’d go mad.
His fingers closed in on her, parting the soft, outer flesh of her mons to expose her opening and clitoris fully. And he was right there. She’d never been so intimately exposed to a man before. Never.
“You’re perfect,” he said, the vibrations of his deep voice resonating within her. “And you’re all mine.”
A quick swipe of his tongue across the cleft of her entrance was all the warning she had before he closed his mouth over her clitoris and sucked hard. A heartbeat later, he raked his tongue across her nub as though he intended to stroke her that way for as long as it took. But as soon as his tongue made contact with her, she shattered into an orgasm that exploded through her like fire. She cried out as her body throbbed with convulsions so strong they darkened the corners of her vision. The threw her head back, giving in to the sensation with abandon.
Her body had barely slowed its tremors when Henry slid up her sweat- and rain-soaked body, joining with her. She gasped as his thick, hard length filled and stretched her, bringing a whole new sensation to the throbbing that still hadn’t stopped. He held himself inside of her, groaning as she squeezed him.
“Yes,” he growled. “My darling.”
As her tremors finally slowed, he began moving. He was slow at first, but as soon as she caught her breath and threw her arms and one leg around him, he moved harder and faster. It was his turn now, his turn to take what he needed from her. She encouraged him with wordless cries of pleasure that were anything but faked, and dug her nails into his back and backside.
“Yes.” She managed to form words. “Harder.”
It was all the encouragement he needed. In no time, he was plundering her with total abandon, the muscles of his back and legs hard with effort. His passion was so intense that, with a gasp, Ellie burst into a second, powerful orgasm. It tore through her, making her cry out and squeeze him harder. Henry tensed, and with a muffled cry, came apart inside of her. She’d felt men come with her more times than she wanted to count, but never with such passion, and never in a way that made her soul sing with joy. She adored that her body was open to him, that her heart was his alone, and always would be. His body was the ideal manifestation of everything she felt down to the center of her being.
As the force of their passion ebbed, there wasn’t much that they could do other than lie in a sweaty, overheated pile on the sofa, listening to the rain pound against the cottage around them. Ellie had no desire whatsoever to move a muscle, especially since Henry was still sheathed firmly inside of her. She fell asleep still joined with him, and had never been happier.
She didn’t think it was possible to improve on that, but she was wrong. After a snooze, they got up and set to work hanging their clothes so that they could dry. Henry was right about there being food in the lodge as well. But after a snack, they retired to the bedroom, where they spent the fading hours until dark making love over and over, until they were both too tired to move.
And then they fell asleep. It was ridiculous to think that something so serene and simple as falling asleep in each other’s arms could happen after such tempestuous love-making. Even the storm died down, leaving them to pass the night in heavy slumber.
In the morning, they didn’t bother to get out of bed longer than the length of time it took to take care of necessities. Then they were all over each other again, twined together in passion until they were both satisfied.
It wasn’t until dawn had given way to the promise of a sunny morning, as the two of them lay spent in each other’s arms, just listening to the sounds of morning, that Henry spoke.
“So you’ll let me come with you?”
Ellie burst into laughter, giving one of his nipples a pinch. “Like I could stop you,” she said as he gasped, then laughed himself.
“I always knew you were smart,” he laughed, then kissed her, long and lazy. “I’m glad you left me that letter.”
Ellie shifted to look down at him. “What did you think about Princess Olympia?”
Henry b
linked as though her question had come out of the blue. “What are you talking about?”
“Olympia. She’s an imposter. What did you think?”
Henry sat up suddenly. “Olympia is an imposter?”
Ellie sat all the way with him, not bothering to cover herself. “Did you read my letter?”
“Only the first part,” he admitted. “What about Olympia?”
Ellie gaped at him, then launched into an explanation of everything she’d overheard between Olympia and her maid, and everything the woman had said directly to her.
Henry’s expression grew darker and angrier the more she explained, until at last, throwing back the bedcovers and standing, he said, “She’s not going to get away with this.”
“Good.” Ellie climbed out of bed behind him.
“I hope you can forgive me for dragging you back to that God-forsaken house one more time,” he said.
Ellie hesitated, anxious. “Why?”
“Because I need you to help me make sure that woman gets what she deserves.”
CHAPTER 10
A fter crawling back into clothes that had barely dried from the day before and spreading out the rest of Ellie’s things—which had been soaked through in her suitcase—Henry and Ellie mounted Hector and headed back up to the house. The stable hands greeted them with an outpouring of relief, which told Ellie that they had been missed and people were worried about them.
“Would you like me to send for your valet so that you can change into fresh clothes, my lord?” the stableman asked as he took Hector from Henry.
“No, thank you, Arthur. No time.”
Henry took Ellie’s hand and led her on, through the house’s side door and past a section of the servant’s hall. More than a few of the kitchen maids and hall boys stopped what they were doing to whisper to each other as they passed. Ellie did her best to smile at the familiar faces, but her heart beat harder and harder as they climbed a narrow set of stairs to the main floor, and not from exertion.