Dreaming of You (The Gamblers #2)(93)

Sara watched him for a moment, touched by his admission. Although he couldn’t admit out loud that he loved her, he said it in more subtle ways…his gentleness, his constant praise of her, his generosity. “What other things?” she murmured, backing up against the bed and draping herself over it.

Needing no further invitation, Derek crawled up beside her. He unbuttoned her bodice as he answered. “Your skin…especially here. Pure and white as a moonbeam.” His fingertips moved tenderly over the firm slopes of her br**sts. “And these…beautiful…I want to cover them with diamonds and kisses…”

“Kisses are sufficient,” she said hastily.

Derek raked up her skirts. Her h*ps lifted willingly as he pulled her drawers down. Softly his hand found her. “And this part of you…mine alone.” His thick lashes lowered, and his breath touched her throat in unsteady surges. He reached for the fastening of his trousers. “Sometimes,” he whispered, “I’m so deep inside you I can feel your womb…and I’m still not close enough. I want to share every breath…every beat of your heart.”

Sara quivered as she felt him move against her suddenly, entering her in a thrust that stretched her exquisitely tight. Derek cradled her head in both his hands, his mouth hot on her neck. “Sometimes,” he murmured, “I want to punish you a little.”

“Why?” She groaned at his purposeful stokes, her head falling back on the pillow. His hands pressed down on her shoulders, holding her steady as he pushed into her center.

“For making me want you until I ache with it. For the way I wake at night just to watch you sleeping.” His face was intense and passionate above her, his green eyes harsh in their brightness. “I want you more each time I’m with you. It’s a fever that never leaves me. I can’t be alone without wondering where you are, when I can have you again…” His lips possessed hers in a kiss that was both savage and tender, and she opened to him eagerly.

He had never been so demanding, his body hard and heavy as it met hers in solid blows. She rocked upward to receive him, straining to match his rapid pace, breathing in sobs of frantic need. Her blood pumped furiously, and the sensations sharpened as she sought release. Compulsively she answered his rhythm over and over, until her muscles ached and trembled. He reached down to grip her bottom tightly, pulling her against him, forcing himself even deeper inside her. Their skin was slick with the mingled sweat of their efforts. The friction between them was a slippery, powerful motion that teased their senses to an excruciating pitch. All at once violent spasms of pleasure tore through Sara, and she screamed against his shoulder. The inward ripples of her response wrapped around him tightly, and Derek let his passion burst forth in a glorious rush. In the aftermath he held her tightly, his hands smoothing over her back in repeated strokes. Words dammed up in his chest while he battled silently to drag them out. Sara seemed to understand, for she laid her head against his chest and sighed. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “Just keep holding me.”

“I’ve never seen you look so fine,” Katie exclaimed as Sara entered the cottage. She helped Sara off with her high-necked pelisse and reached out to finger one of the long banded sleeves of the new gown. “What beautiful fabric. It shimmers like a pearl!”

Smiling, Sara turned in a circle and swished the skirts of the corded silk gown. “Do you like it? I’ll have one just like it made for you.”

Katie regarded the geranium-colored silk doubtfully. “It might be a touch too elegant for Greenwood Corners.”

“No, it will be perfect for church on Sunday.” Sara grinned mischievously. “You can sit a row or two ahead of Mrs. Kingswood in all your finery, and she’ll whisper to everyone that you’ve gone to blue blazes just like your daughter!”

Katie ruffled her white hair in distraction. “If a new gown doesn’t convince everyone I’ve gone to blue blazes, the new house will for certain!”

Sara smiled at that, recalling the entire afternoon of persuasion it had taken for Derek to convince them to accept his gift of a new house. He had finally won through a mixture of charm and sheer stubbornness. “It’s your choice,” he had told Isaac and Katie pleasantly. “Either you’ll have it here or in London.” The next afternoon they had found themselves conferring with Graham Gronow, Derek’s preferred architect. Gronow had designed a lovely, classical Georgian house of comfortable size for them. Under construction on a choice plot of land close to the center of the village, the house was a subject of conversation for everyone in Greenwood Corners. Wryly Katie had told Sara that she thought Derek had deliberately made certain the house would be larger than the Kingswoods’ manor. Sara hadn’t argued, knowing full well that he wasn’t above such behavior.

“Derek plans to hire a cookmaid and gardener for you,” Sara said, following her mother into the kitchen. “I told him you might want to choose someone familiar from the village. If not, we’ll send someone from London.”

“Heavens above,” Katie exclaimed. “Tell your Mr. Craven we don’t need hired help.”

“But you do,” Sara argued. “What about the days when Papa’s joints are too stiff for him to work outside? And now that I won’t be able to do my share of the household tasks, you’ll need someone to help, and perhaps bring you a cup of tea in the afternoon. Wouldn’t you like that?”