After a few moments, the pleasure faded out through her fingertips and toes, leaving her body languid and soft. She opened her eyes to see Macrae rising over her on his hands and knees. She slid her palms up his corded arms and down over his chest to his tight, rippled abdomen. He still wore his drawers but the fastenings had loosened and the wide tip of his erection extended beyond the waistband.
She reached for him, brushing her fingers over the tip. So smooth and hard.
Macrae issued a stiff groan as his belly tensed and tightened. The muscles of his arms bulged with the effort to hold himself above her. Looking up, she noted that his eyes were tightly closed and his pulse beat rapidly in his throat.
She circled her thumb over his crest and reveled in the way his jaw clenched and his lips pulled back from his teeth.
Anxious for more, she released the remaining fastening of his drawers and tugged until they slid down his thighs. His erection was free. Long and thick and so hard it looked painful. Desperate to soothe him, she grasped his hot length with both hands.
The moaning growl that rolled through his chest filled her with a new kind of pleasure as the hollow ache ignited again in her core. The size of him was intimidating, but her body was already aching for him to fill her, stretch her, claim her.
She slid her hands up along his hardened length, circling her thumbs over the broad tip before sliding her hands down again. He was so hot and smooth. Hard and needful. As she brought her hands up again, she noticed a bead of moisture escaping the slit at the top. She gently claimed it with the tip of her finger, then spread it over his satiny flesh.
“Ye’ve got me on the brink, lass.” His voice was harsh and tight.
Allegra lifted her hand to curl it around the back of his neck. Tilting her chin upward, she drew him down. She caught the flashing heat of his gaze just before his mouth took hers. The ravenous thrust of his tongue made her moan. The raw puff of his breath as he struggled to maintain control stirred the flutters in her belly.
“No more waiting,” she murmured against his lips. “I need you now. Give me everything.”
With a raw sound of hunger and possession, he took her mouth again as he lowered to his elbows and settled his hips between her spread thighs.
Allegra arched beneath him. It felt so good. The brush of his chest across her nipples, the rough texture of his thighs against hers, the hot, blunt pressure of his erection pressing to the entrance of her body. She ached for him to surge forward, claiming her completely.
But he paused.
Framing her face in his hands, he looked intently into her eyes. His expression was deeply earnest and there was a vulnerability in the soft tilt of his smile that she hadn’t noticed before.
“I want ye to ken how much this means tae me,” he began in a rough murmur. “The gift ye’re givin’ me isnae taken lightly. I vow—through all the days of my life—to keep showing ye that yer trust isnae misplaced.” When Allegra would have spoken then, he pressed the flat of his thumb gently to her lips, stilling her thoughts. A flicker of humor entered his gaze. “I cannae say we’ll never disagree. I reckon we’ll argue a fair bit. But I’ll never hurt ye. Tae do so would hurt me tenfold in return.”
Allegra’s breath shortened and her heart swelled near to bursting. She pursed her lips to press a kiss to his thumb. “I love you.”
She intended to say more. To tell him all the reasons she’d been wrong, to make her own vow of loyalty and promise never to doubt him. But it all came out in just those three words.
His chest expanded on a deep breath and his gaze flickered with emotion. “Again, lass.”
The rough murmur of his voice squeezed at her heart even as it stirred her desire.
Tipping her chin, she slid her arms around him to hold him close. “I love you, Baird Macrae.”
He claimed her mouth in a heady kiss that roused tingles across her skin and twisted her belly with delicious craving. Darting her tongue along his, she hooked her hands over his shoulders and surged her hips upward, needing the pressure of him between her thighs.
His smooth, hard length glided thick and hot along her sex and the ragged sound he made soaked into her bones.
He needed her.
And she needed him.
Reaching down between their sweat-slicked bodies, she wrapped her hand around him. He groaned again, a rough and hungry sound. Tilting her hips, she aligned his satiny tip to her core.
His breath puffed against her lips, but he didn’t hesitate.
Allegra gasped as he rocked his hips forward, urging his broad head past her entrance. Her body felt slick and soft as he stretched her, filling her in a slow but insistent advance. When he paused to withdraw just a bit, she bent her knees higher around his hips, allowing a deeper angle when he surged forward again.
A few more beautifully, agonizingly slow thrusts and he was fully sheathed. The width and length of him throbbing inside her was a stunning sensation. She felt utterly claimed.
To so completely surrender herself to someone else should have been terrifying. But she trusted Baird implicitly, with everything she was.
And the claiming wasn’t one-sided. When he lifted his head to look down into her eyes, she knew…he’d surrendered to her as well.
She pressed a soft and tender kiss to his lips, telling him without words what she was feeling. But as her mouth moved gently against his, she wanted more. Parting her lips, she urged the kiss to a deeper effect. And he responded, sucking her tongue into his mouth as he circled his hips between her thighs.
Sparkling pleasure ignited at the deep movement.
When he did it again, she gasped and arched her back. Her hands grasped his buttocks.
He pulled out of her in a long withdrawal, until just the tip of him remained in contact, before plunging forward with fierce possession. Then he did it again. And again. And again. Rocking Allegra from head to toe with such deep passion, all she could do was hold on and allow him to carry her away.
As her body began to tighten and tense with the pleasure flooding through her, he suddenly slipped his arms around her bowed body, encircling her waist. Then he rose up. Sitting back on his heels, he lifted her to straddle his groin. Her legs were wrapped around his hips while his thick length reached high inside her.
Cupping her buttocks in his large palms, he urged her hips into a shallow, rolling motion that created a deep and lovely inner caress. Pleasure shuddered through her body. Clutching his broad shoulders, she deepened the arch of her spine, dropping her head back and thrusting her breasts forward.
Baird took a swollen peak in his mouth. Swirling his tongue and nipping with his teeth as he continued to move inside her. Her pleasure built exponentially. Every sense became overcome by sensation.
And then—in a sudden rush—it crested.
Fierce, pulsing pleasure crashed through her. Tearing her apart and putting her back together in a brilliant arrangement of love and wonder.
She clung to him, curling her arms around his head as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to the side of her throat and continued to thrust upward into her trembling heat. His arms doubled around her—holding her so close she could barely breathe, but she didn’t mind because it allowed her feel the exact moment of his release. His breath caught on a harsh sound. His heart thundered against hers and his teeth closed over the muscle between her neck and shoulder. The pulse of his pleasure inside her lengthened her own as her body clenched around him.
After the sparks subsided and heart rates slowed, Baird smoothed his hands up the length of her spine. Curling his fingers over her shoulders, he eased her back until their eyes met. She tightened her thighs around his hips, anchoring herself to him. She wasn’t ready to end the union of their bodies.
Holding her gaze, he lowered his head to press a reverent kiss to the inner curve of her breast, over the heavy beat of her heart. “Ye’re mine now, luv. And I’m yours.”
“Now and forever,” she replied, using his own words.
His smile warmed her skin while his low growl of possession reawakened the flame deep in her core. Sliding one hand up into her hair to cup her head, he took her mouth in a kiss that soon had them tumbling back onto the mattress.
Epilogue
Allegra slid gently into wakefulness. Her body was warmed and her limbs heavy with sleep, but her heart was light. She had never slept so well as she did in Baird’s arms atop his giant bed in the little stone lodge.
Opening her eyes, she found herself ensnared by a bright green gaze and a mischievous grin. “Mornin’.”
His voice was rough and sleepy and the sound of it sent tingles through her belly as she recalled another morning similar to this one, yet infinitely different.
She slid across the sheets until her belly and breasts pressed to his skin and her legs tangled with his. Sliding her palms up over his hard chest, she felt the stirring of his desire hot and hard against her thigh. His arm fell across her waist and his large hand palmed her rear as he pulled her even closer into the curve of his body.
Tipping her face until her lips barely touched his, she whispered, “Good morning…husband.”
His growl of satisfaction warmed every secret part of her. “I’m lovin’ the sound of that, wife.”
After spending the better part of the day following the Darrows’ Christmas party in bed, they’d returned to Darrow House together. With the earl and countess standing as witnesses, they’d exchanged vows before the local clergyman, who was more than happy to step away from preparations for the next day’s Christmas service to unite the lovers beneath the glitter of fairy lights with the scent of pine boughs and holly filling the air. Their first kiss as husband and wife had been beneath a sprig of mistletoe.
Then they’d returned to the lodge to find an unexpected feast awaiting them, no doubt arranged with spontaneous finesse by Lady Darrow, who hadn’t seemed very shocked at all by the hasty nuptials.
Allegra sighed as Baird’s mouth pressed to hers in a languid kiss that slowly, inexorably ignited her deepest passions. But before it could go on too long, she pulled back. “We have to ready ourselves. We’re expected back at Darrow House for breakfast.”
He groaned and rolled his hips, thrusting higher against her thigh until his broad head pressed to her heat. “Why cannae we just stay here?”
It took a moment for Allegra to recall anything but how badly she craved the lush, heavy feel of him inside her. “Because it’s Christmas Day and we promised to spend it with our friends.”
“We never shoulda made such a promise,” he growled. “And they shouldnae’ve asked.”
Palming the back of her thigh, he lifted her leg high over his hip. Then he thrust upward, sliding smoothly into her wet, welcoming heat. Allegra moaned her pleasure, arching her spine and rolling her hips to take in more of him.
Sliding her hands into his hair, she curled her fingers into the fiery locks. “I suppose we can be a bit late.”
She took his heavy rumbling groan to be one of full agreement as he rolled to his back, pulling her atop him. His hands clasped firmly to her hips. “It’ll be more than a bit, wife.”
She grinned. “Kiss me, Macrae.”
And he did. Again and again and again.
About Amy Sandas
Amy lives with her husband and children in Northcentral Wisconsin. She writes historical romance about dashing, and sometimes dangerous, men who know just how to get what they want and women who may be reckless, bold, and unconventional, but always have the courage to embrace all that life and love have to offer.
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The Angel of an Astronomer
by Linda Rae Sande
Prologue
Torrington Park near Hexham
Mid-November, 1837
“There you are,” Adele, Countess of Torrington, remarked once she’d found her husband in his study. She leaned against the door jamb, her arms crossed beneath her generous bosom. “I thought you might want a spot of tea. Or coffee.”
Milton looked up from his desk and gave her a grin. “I haven’t exactly been hiding, my love,” he replied. He held a quill in one hand and was regarding a letter he’d just written. “Just finishing up a letter.”
“Correspondence about the earldom?” she guessed, an eyebrow arching up with her query. At eight-and-fifty, her blonde hair was streaked with gray strands, but her elegant features remained youthful.
“About the Wadsworth earldom, actually,” he replied. Nearing seven-and-sixty, was still handsome despite the white hair that had replaced his dark waves just the year before. A pair of wire-rimmed spectacles rested on the end of his nose.
Adele angled her head to one side. “Anything amiss?”
“At the moment, yes. Four daughters, all about to have their come-outs in the next few years,” he replied with a smirk.
“Oh, poor Sylvia,” Adele replied with a shake of her head, referring to the countess and the mother of the four girls.
“You mean, poor Wadsworth,” her husband countered. “Entire wardrobes and dowries for four daughters? His earldom is barely solvent as it is.” He didn’t add that there wasn’t yet a single son to inherit the earldom, which meant it would probably go to Wadsworth’s younger brother.
“Oh, dear. What will he do?”
Tempted to tell her the plan, Milton instead inhaled slowly. “I think Wadsworth and I have worked out a solution that will benefit us both,” he said, as he signed his name to the letter. “In the meantime, I’m thinking I’d like you all to myself for Christmas this year.”
Adele’s eyes widened. She was used to hearing similar comments from her horny husband when they were home at Worthington House in Mayfair, but never this time of the year. Not when they were at Torrington Park in Northumberland. Not when there was a foot of snow and the possibility of family sleigh rides to Hexham every day. Not when Christmas was over a month away. They’d only just made the trip from London six weeks ago. “But, what do you intend to do with our children?”
“Our twenty-year-old twins can go back to London. ‘Bout time we kicked them out of the nest, don’t you think?”
Blinking, Adele looked as if she was about to faint. “Milton!”
“George needs to meet with the solicitor and prepare for Parliament in the spring. Angel needs to learn how to run a household,” he said as he stood up to join her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “They can live at the house in Mayfair,” he said just before he nibbled on her ear and then sprinkled kisses along her jawline. “And we may or may not join them in the spring.” His lips covered hers, and he thrilled when she moaned and one of her hands moved to his head, her fingers spearing his silken hair. Meanwhile, his hands had moved down to cup the globes of her bottom, pulling her firmly against the front of his tightening breeches.
When he finally ended the kiss and straightened, he added, “George can act as chaperone for Angel. What say you?”
Her eyes darting to one side, Adele blinked a couple of times. “Who are George and Angel?” she whispered, although a grin teased the edge of her lips.
Milton shut the door to the study and kissed her again, rather glad there was a comfortable sofa only a few feet away.
It was another hour before they rang for tea.
Chapter 1
Twins on a Train
Somewhere in Yorkshire
Late November, 1837
The gentle sway and measured clacks she felt beneath her half-booted feet would usually send Lady Angelica into a state of blissful sleep. Only the occasional sound of a steam whistle or the abrupt stop of the train car might jolt her from her nap.
On the latter occasions, she could count on her twin brother, George, to catch her should she be dislodged from
the leather-covered seat and sent pitching forward.
She rather doubted he could be counted on for such a chivalrous act on this day, though. From the time they had boarded the train in Northumberland, George’s attention had been directed out the window to his right. Seated across from him, Angelica sensed he wished to say something of importance but couldn’t seem to muster the courage.
Or perhaps just the words.
“You have kept me on pins and needles for at least an hour—”
“We only left the station a few minutes ago,” George interrupted, a clear indication he wasn’t woolgathering as he was staring out the window. “Besides, I thought you would be asleep by now.”
“Are you nervous?”
George furrowed a brow. “About what?”
Angelica gave him a quelling glance. “Parliament, of course.” She knew part of the reason they were making their way back to London was so that he could accept a writ of acceleration and take a seat in the House of Lords in the spring. When their father, Milton Grandby, Earl of Torrington, announced that at the age of five-and-sixty he no longer needed to attend sessions of Parliament, George hinted it was because the Whigs had won the general election.
My work is done, she could imagine Father saying.
Angelica resisted the urge to remind the earl he was really seven-and-sixty. She was his favorite daughter—his only daughter, really—and she wanted to remain in his good graces.
“I am not nervous,” George stated. “But I wish to be prepared. Besides, I have to meet with the solicitor. Review some legal issues.”
The mention of the solicitor had Angelica’s thoughts going to their fortune.
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