The kiss was full and lush. His tongue caressed hers with carnal strokes, sliding deeper, then pulling back. Her body was flushed with heat, aching with need.
He broke the kiss, but she had time for one gasp for air before he was tilting his head the other way to kiss her again. This time, it was a slow, drugging kiss that seemed to go on and on as he explored her mouth, tasting her, rediscovering her. It’s been so long, she thought, and moaned against his mouth. God, Denys, it’s been so long.
He broke the kiss again, and pulled back. Afraid he was calling a halt, she grasped the soaking-wet lapels of his jacket. “Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Don’t stop.”
“Who’s stopping?” he muttered, and his hands came up between them. He pressed kisses to her face as he began unfastening the buttons of her jacket, waistcoat, and shirtwaist.
He yanked apart her necktie, then pulled apart the edges of her garments, and bent his head to trail kisses along the side of her neck.
By the time he slipped his hand inside the placket of her shirtwaist, her breathing was quick and shallow, and her body was flushed with heat, and when his fingertips caressed the swell of her breast above her corset cover, she moaned, sinking back against the carriage seat, her weight on her elbows.
He followed the move, undoing more buttons as he came over her, and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back, arching her breasts upward as he pressed kisses along her collarbone. He worked his hand beneath her chemise, to touch her bare skin, and the heat in her grew stronger, hotter, pooling in long-forgotten places—her breasts, her abdomen, and between her thighs.
His free hand grabbed handfuls of white silk and lawn, pulling up her skirt and petticoats, getting beneath. Then his hand glided up her thigh, and the heat of his palm burned through the thin nainsook of her drawers.
Suddenly, he withdrew his hand from her bodice and sank to his knees beside her, then he was shoving her skirts up against her stomach. He pinned them to her waist with his forearm, as his other hand spread across her belly.
And then he went still.
“Denys?” Panting, she opened her eyes to find him hovering above her, breathing hard, but other than the rise and fall of his chest, he did not move. In the last vestiges of daylight that peeked between the carriage curtains, she could see the desire burning in his eyes. “Why did you stop?”
“I want to be sure you really want to do this,” he said, his voice ragged, his countenance harsh with the effort of holding back. “If you don’t, then for God’s sake, stop me now.”
“You’re the one who wanted me to go out on a limb, didn’t you?” she panted, sucking in air, unable to get enough into her lungs, given the tight confines of her corset. “This is about as far out on a limb a girl can go, don’t you think?”
“Is it?” His hand slid down over her belly an inch or two, then stopped again.
“Don’t tease,” she groaned. “Don’t tease me.”
“Go out a bit further on that limb,” he coaxed, moving his hand closer to the apex of her thighs. “Tell me what you want.”
“Touch me,” she gasped, parting her thighs, but it wasn’t much access, for her bent knee hit his arm. She jerked her hips, urging him on. “Touch me like you used to do.”
He complied, his finger sliding between her thighs and into the gusset of her drawers. Sharp sensation speared her, and she cried out.
He began to caress her with the tip of one finger, light, delicate circles that spread pleasure throughout her body, the delicious pleasure of so many summer afternoons. “Denys,” she moaned. “I remember this.”
“So do I, Lola,” he murmured, and leaned down to kiss her mouth. “You are still every bit as soft as I remember. And so, so wet for me.”
He deepened the caress, sliding his finger between the folds of her feminine opening, overwhelming her with sensations she’d never thought to feel again, and she bent her arm to stifle her own panting sobs, for she didn’t want the driver to hear. “Denys. Oh, God, Denys.”
“Yes,” he coaxed softly, “That’s it. You’re coming, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she sobbed. “Yes, yes,” and then she did, climaxing in exquisite waves, again and again. “Don’t stop, don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” he promised, his fingers continuing to caress her, wringing the last shards of orgasm from her until she finally collapsed, panting, against the seat.
“I’d forgotten, Denys,” she whispered in amazement. “I’d forgotten how it feels.”
She opened her eyes, but it was dark now, and no light peeked between the curtains. But though she could barely see the outline of him in the darkness, she could hear the harsh rasp of his breathing.
“I want to be inside you,” he muttered.
“Yes.” As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she watched him slide his trousers and linen down his hips, and when he did, she sat up, reaching out to take him in her hand.
He groaned, tilting his head back, and she stroked him just as he’d shown her how to do so long ago. He was thick and hard and scorching hot, and she relished the velvety feel of him in her palm. But when she caressed the cleft at the tip with her thumb, he groaned again, and her enjoyment of this particular activity was abruptly stopped as he grasped her wrist and pulled her hand away. “Now, who’s teasing?”
His grip tightened around her wrist, and he leaned back, pulling her with him.
He didn’t say anything, but she knew what he wanted. Bunching up her skirts around her waist, she eased herself onto his seat, straddling his hips, her knees sinking into the cushion as he settled back against the roll and tuck leather behind him.
“Take me,” he ground out, grasping her hips. “Take me inside you.”
She smiled, savoring the order, for she knew it was also a plea. Holding her skirts up out of the way with one hand, she took his erect penis in the other and guided the tip through the slit of her drawers and between the folds of her opening. As the tip of his penis entered her, she slid her hand out from between their bodies, and the moment she did, he thrust his hips upward, his hands tightening as he entered her.
She cried out, her fingers grasping for the seat back on either side of his shoulders to steady herself as he pushed into her.
“Do you remember this, Lola?” he asked, going deeper, pushing harder.
Yes, she remembered this, the hot sweet fullness of him inside her. How could she ever have forgotten it? With him inside her this way, it was as if no time had passed, as if their last afternoon in the house on Circus Road had been only yesterday. She gave a frantic nod, rolling her hips, rocking to accommodate his shaft, working to take him fully.
But he seemed to want her to say it aloud, for his hips flexed, pulling back. “Do you?” he asked, and thrust again, harder, the head of his penis touching that exquisite place deep inside her, a place that she knew could bring even more intense pleasure than the one he’d caressed with his fingers moments ago.
“Yes,” she panted, her hips working as she felt the pleasure rising, thickening, and she knew she was close to climax. She widened her knees, pressing down, trying to work her hips and bring that completion.
But he didn’t let her have it. His hands tightened on her hips, pushing her back a little, making her groan in protest.
“Denys!”
“What about this?” he asked, his voice ragged. He flexed his hips, touching her deep, then he pulled back and flexed again in a teasing, tormenting caress. “Do you remember this?”