“You have not told me much about yourself, Molly.”
She hesitated before replying, “You have not asked.”
“I am asking now.” Edmund tried to remember not to look merely at her beauty, and look into her eyes. There was fear there, fear about what? That she would be noticed, that her secret, whatever it was, would be discovered?
Edmund shifted his back against the wall. “We could be here a while, and I do not believe there is going to be any additional entertainment found that that we have discovered already, and I am not going to read The Monk, no matter how long we are here. Why not tell me a little about yourself?”
There was no coquettish smile, no wistful look to encourage him to ask more questions. Unlike many of the ladies he had known, Molly did not want to speak.
“No,” she said finally.
If anything could increase his sense of intrigue, it was a flat refusal. “Why?”
“Because it is a sad story that gets sadder with the telling.”
Edmund shook his head with a smile. “Come now, Molly, you cannot try that one with me. You think that losing an income of twenty thousand pounds a year is not a sad tale?”
Molly’s eyes widened, but not – as he may have expected – with greed, but with sorrow. “Do you still consider the loss of your family in pecuniary terms?”
Her words cut right to the core of him, piercing his soul and exposing the very worst of himself.
Edmund struggled to regain control of himself. “Family is not everything.”
“It was for me.” Molly had spoken sadly, with genuine sorrow in her voice and she smiled wryly. “You escaped your family. I did not.”
It was impossible to ignore the pain in her words and Edmund found himself leaning forward, desperate to be close to her, to care for her. He had never felt this way about a person before; it had always been himself against the family, and now himself against the world.
But Molly; if he could wipe away every tear that had ever dropped from those dark eyes, he would.
“Tell me,” he began, but he was interrupted.
“We cannot just leave these plates here, they will dry out and become impossible to clean,” said Molly briskly, rising to her feet so quickly that Edmund barely saw her move.
“Let me help you,” he said hastily, rising too. “I made at least half the mess, as it is.”
Molly snorted as she picked up the plates and placed them on the sideboard. “Did you ever wash anything in your life, Sir – Edmund!”
The last word had escaped as a gasp and Edmund grinned. He had followed her silently and moved so close to her that as she turned, she had moved straight into his arms.
“Edmund,” she repeated. Her dark eyes found his and Edmund felt a surge of an emotion he did not recognise.
“Molly,” he replied, his voice breathless. God’s teeth, having her this close to him was doing things to him that he could not understand – beyond the mechanics. “Do you trust me?”
“Not on your life.”
“I asked you a question in the King’s Head. You said no.”
Molly stared at him, her breasts heaving as her breathing quickened. “Yes.”
“This time,” Edmund said in a low voice, his eyes darting to her lips, “I am going to ask you in a different way.”
His lips crushed against hers in a passionate and uncontained kiss.
Molly had not expected this – had not expected an embrace, let alone a kiss. Something so personal, so wrong between a gentleman and a lady unbetrothed or unwed.
And so her natural reaction was to fight it. Her hands moved up and pushed against Edmund’s chest, but the kiss was so gentle and yet so passionate that all the fight seemed to leave her. His arms were strong, caring, loving, even.
He did not force more than she was willing to give and Molly found herself melting into his arms. His head shifted and the kiss deepened, and Molly found herself welcoming him in, allowing her mouth to open.
It was wonderful. She had never been kissed like this; could not remember Charlie Kimble ever taking her into his arms for such an experience.
He was gentle still, but she could sense the restrained desire and it stirred her. Knowing that she made him feel this way, knowing that Edmund had found against this but found he could not – it was thrilling.
His tongue teased her lips and she widened them further, allowing him in and it was glorious, these feelings rushing through her body that did not seem to belong to her.
Edmund broke the kiss and looked at her, his eyes heavy with desire. “God, Molly. Say yes. I could give you such pleasure.”
Molly’s eyes looked up at him, unsure of herself but fighting down the urge to give in. She was a widow, after all. She knew the mechanics, knew that it would be over almost before it had begun.
Why not give in to a stranger? And yet Edmund was no stranger; she knew him better than anyone. No other gentleman in the world had ever been as honest as he had been with her.
No other gentleman made her feel these things, made her feel truly alive.
Molly licked her lips before she spoke and felt the throb of desire in Edmund’s breeches. It made her feel powerful, and she liked it.
“Yes,” she breathed.
Before the word was almost out of her mouth, Edmund crushed it with his own and this time she gave herself utterly over to the kiss, throwing her arms around his neck and allowing him into her mouth as a welcome partner.
But his hands were not idle. Caressing her waist, they moved to the back of her gown and pulled at the cord keeping her gown together.
Molly did not care – everything that she had cared about before suddenly did not seem to matter. All she wanted to focus on was the way Edmund made her feel, the way her body was responding to him – a way that it had never responded before.
Her gown suddenly fell to her shoulders, kept up only because her arms were around him.
Molly broke the kiss and stared, slightly startled, into Edmund’s eyes.
“You can say no again at any time,” he breathed, “but I beg you not to.”
Molly hesitated, and then allowed her arms to fall to her side. Her gown slipped to the floor, leaving her standing in naught but her undershift.
Edmund moaned and took a step towards her but Molly put out a hand. “No.”
Panic and concern filled his eyes. “Molly, I am sorry if – ”
“First,” she said quietly. “You.”
Edmund stared at her uncomprehending for a moment, and then his eyes widened and he smiled. Without breaking their gaze, Edmund reached up and started to unbutton his shirt.
Molly felt her breath catch in her throat as he pulled his shirt off and dropped it the floor. His good looks were not limited to his face; he was truly the model of a desirable man. Strong shoulders, broad. She wanted to reach out and touch them but held herself back.
Edmund nodded, as though he knew what she was thinking. Molly stepped forward nervously and reached out.
Something hot and strange shifted in her stomach as her fingers touched Edmund’s chest delicately, but it was nothing to the moan of pleasure that he gave as she explored, tentatively at first, and then with greater courage.
“God, Molly, the things you do to me,” he muttered.
Excitement flared in Molly’s heart but she knew there was more. There was always more.
Her questing fingers moved down lower until she reached the buttons on his breeches. Her eyes flickered to his and he nodded.
Her fingers made light work of the remainder of his clothes and within a minute, Edmund was standing before her, utterly naked and erect.
Molly breathed out slowly. She had only seen one other man in this state, and she had rarely wanted to see him in that state.
But Edmund was different. Better looking, certainly, but also kinder. He was not dominating her because he could. He cared just as much for her own consent as his own.
He was everything that Charlie Ki
mble was not, and never had been.
“And…” Edmund swallowed. “And now you.”
Molly found any embarrassment in becoming nude herself had disappeared as soon as she had stripped Edmund of his clothes. She pulled her undershift to the floor and stood there, staring at him.
Edmund’s eyes were wide, as though he was attempting to drink her in. “God’s teeth, Molly, but you are beautiful.”
And before she could answer he had closed the gap between them and pulled her into his arms, and Molly gasped at the visceral reaction her body had – which was to open itself to him immediately.
His kisses were wild and passionate, demanding more and yet giving so much, and Molly gave him everything she wanted. She wanted to give Edmund everything as he gave her this pleasure, such pleasure that made her entire body tingle all over.
She did not know how they had done it, but all of a sudden they were lying on a makeshift bed of the sofa’s cushions and their own clothing. Edmund was nestled in her legs and his mouth was around one of her nipples, teasing it as wild ripples of ecstasy moved around her body.
“God, Edmund,” she moaned, her legs tightening around him. “Yes, more!”
And though she could not imagine how there was more – there was more. As his hands caressed her face, her breasts, her hips, Edmund moved to the other breast and teased her nipple with his tongue.
“Edmund, yes!” Molly could not help but cry out, did not care who heard her, for this was joy as she had never experienced before.
He raised his head to grin at her, and she kissed him, pouring into the kiss the desire she felt for him, the desire that was as unknown and surprising to her as it was to him.
They broke apart and Molly looked up into the eyes of a man who she was rapidly falling in love with. How could she not, knowing he could give her this much pleasure and utterly selfishly?
“I am going to…to enter you now,” Edmund said breathlessly, concern on his face. “It – well, it may hurt, Molly. You have to tell me if it does.”
Molly tried not to smile. If her late husband was anything to go by, this was the moment it all ended. It would be over in a few thrusts, and all the pleasure she was feeling would be over.
At least she had experienced this. It was far more than she could have imagined, and it was wrong, surely, to be disappointed it was almost over.
She nodded. “I will tell you.”
Edmund smiled and leaned down to kiss her – and as he did, he shifted and gently lowered his manhood into her.
Molly cried out and he stopped immediately, fear in his eyes. “Molly, are you – ”
“Keep going,” she growled, desperate for the return of the hot carnality which had soared through her body as he had started to enter her. “God, yes!”
This was unlike anything she had ever experienced – she was warm, wet, and ready for him and he was filling her in a way she could not have predicted.
It was more than glory, more than pleasure – it was the unique connection between a man and a woman and she wanted more.
Edmund grinned and started to build a rhythm as his hands pushed back the hair from her face. “Come for me, Molly.”
She did not understand what he meant, but there was heat and joy and ecstasy building between her thighs and she did not understand it, but she wanted more of it and as he rose and fell into her at a steady pace it was building, and suddenly she broke and exploded with pleasure, her entire body now aching with the joy of it.
“Edmund!”
Eventually the pleasure passed and Molly looked up at him with blearily eyes. “That – that was…”
“That was an orgasm,” he said gently. “You came for me, Molly, and there is no higher compliment for a gentleman.”
Molly nodded, barely able to think. Was that what she had been missing out on for those two years of marriage? Was that what Charlie had enjoyed each and every time he had bedded her?
No wonder people liked doing this.
“That was…” Molly swallowed, trying to find her voice. “That was wonderful.”
Edmund grinned. “Good. Ready for another?”
Her eyes widened. “We can do it again?”
They could. Again, and again – Molly thought her voice would go hoarse, Edmund pleasured her without any thought for his own release, until finally he lay beside her.
“One more time, I think,” he said with a grin. “But this time, I want you on top.”
Molly blinked at him through the haze of her own contentment. “On top?”
Edmund nodded, shifting to lie on his back. “Just pretend you are riding a horse.”
It was impossible not to snort as Molly shifted and found herself astride him. “You do know that I have never ridden a horse before?”
But she did not wait for his answer before she lowered herself slowly onto his manhood and saw the twitch of agonised joy on his face.
Molly swallowed. Now was her time to show him just how much she wanted to give him pleasure.
She moved slowly at first, a little unsure of herself, but as Edmund writhed and cried out her name, Molly sped up the pace and before she knew it she was coming herself, and her cries of pleasure seemed to push Edmund over the edge and he exploded into her.
Molly collapsed onto his chest as they experienced the end of their orgasms in each other’s arms.
As they lay there, panting, Molly knew she would never experience anything like that again. That was a once in a life moment, and she was so glad she had shared it with Edmund. Making love brought two people closer together forever, and Edmund was the man she would have chosen.
That she did choose.
“Well,” said Edmund in a ragged voice. “I have to say. This is the best kidnapping I have ever experienced.”
Molly laughed, unable to control herself. “Me too.”
Chapter 7
Nothing could have prepared Edmund for the confusion of waking up.
The world seemed all wrong. Mrs Bird has obviously been stinting on the cleanliness of her sheets, but also the care of them. They felt hard, almost wooden to the touch – and as for his pillow, it had been grievously treated. It felt no better, as Edmund lay there with his eyes shut, as his own waistcoat.
Edmund opened his eyes. The reason that his sheets felt like wood was because they were floorboards. The reason his pillow felt like his waistcoat, brass buttons and all, was because it was his waistcoat.
He was lying on the floor of a building he did not recognise with a naked woman wrapped around him that he recognised even less.
The moment of panic only lasted but an instant, and then memories rushed back. He had been kidnapped on Christmas Eve, been tied up and dragged here, spent Christmas Day bound for half it, and the whole of it with a woman who…
Edmund’s eyes returned to the naked woman curled into him. It was Molly, and she was asleep. A smile drifted across her lips and her arm was across his chest.
Molly. There was no one like her. He had bedded women, of course, but nothing like this. Nothing like this close connection. They had seemed so entwined, so close in spirit as well as body, that he had been utterly free with her.
She moved against him and Edmund’s smile broadened. If anyone had told him, when he had clapped eyes upon her from the other side of the King’s Head just two days ago, that he would not only have made love to her but also seemed to be falling…
No. Surely not. Sir Edmund Northmere did not fall in love with the women he bedded.
Edmund lay there, luxuriating in the feeling of her pressed up against him. It was more than a lustful thrill, it was something far greater.
“Do you trust me?”
“Not on your life.”
She had evidently trusted someone in the past and it had all gone catastrophically wrong. Anger flared in his stomach at the idea of anyone hurting Molly. Why – how could anyone do that to a woman so precious?
His memories slipped to the evening, that kiss he be
stowed upon her that led to such delightful pleasure. God’s teeth, if he had known she had been so desperate for his touch, he would have stripped her of her gown and corset the moment she had pulled those ropes from his hands.
Edmund glanced down at Molly again and smiled. Well, Molly Kimble would not have been a very good wife for Edmund, Marquis of Dewsbury. He would have had to marry for money, or power, or connections. His father would have accepted no less.
But there was no reason that Sir Edmund Northmere, knight, could not marry Miss Molly Kimble. No reason at all.
God knew how long they were to be trapped here together. For some reason, the thought no longer filled him with fear and frustration.
The idea of being kidnapped with Molly was one that sparked joy, rather than concern. Even today, the day after Christmas, there was more pleasure in being kidnapped and kept a prisoner with her than being anywhere else.
Edmund’s eyes flickered over her face and his smile broadened. His Molly.
She stirred, eyelashes fluttering, and Edmund snapped his eyes shut. It was a habit he had grown from being a child and being forced to share a room with his brother, Luke. Whoever had awoken first had the most arduous task: breaking up the water in the ewer. Their father had believed in hardening his sons, and the freezing temperatures in which they slept over caused their water to freeze over.
Edmund could see nothing, but could feel Molly shift beside him. Her head lifted from his shoulder and the weight of her body disappeared from his side. The emptiness felt awful, as though she belonged there and had no gone missing.
He risked a peek and was well-rewarded with a view of her naked body leaning to pick up her gown, pulling it around her. By God, but she was beautiful – and more so than he had realised when he had seen her.
There was a beauty of soul there, a diamond in the rough. It was astonishing, really, that she had not married before. Why had no one wanted her beauty, kindness, and that spark of fire?
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