Her Wicked Highland Spy (The Marriage Maker #10)(22)

Their shoulders brushed as he reached over her head and adjusted the lines. It was impossible not to admire the way his muscles shifted under the tight fabric of his shirt.

“Where are we going?” She leaned over the railing and peered at the windmills spinning far below.

Her heart skipped a beat as his arms suddenly locked about her waist from behind. He buried his face in her hair and whispered, “To my carriage.”

“Carriage?” she breathed.

His hands felt so deliciously right, so strong and warm sliding over her body as his lips dropped to her neck and skimmed the underside of her jaw. She shivered, closed her eyes and, for the first time, melted against him without a shred of guilt.

“Aye, then straight on to Gretna Green.” Ethan’s hot breath teased her skin. “My grays are ready. They’re the fastest horses I own.”

The stubble on his jaw teased her flesh, sending a thrill straight to her core. Then the words “Gretna Green” penetrated the haze in her mind. She turned in his arms. “Gretna Green?”

He nipped the soft flesh of her neck, then planted the gentlest of kisses on the tip of her ear. “I’m in no mood for a long courtship.”

It was real. He wanted to marry her. It felt so right. So natural. Just like his hot hands sliding down over her body to squeeze her buttocks, hands that made it hard to think.

Her aunt’s face swam across her mind. How could she simply run off and leave the woman behind? “My aunt—”

“Sends her blessings and God’s speed, lass. I’ve spoken to her already. She’s thrilled to join us at my estate at summer’s end.”

Her aunt had been saying a temporary goodbye. Had he thought of everything? But…there was still the matter of Lady Elana. Rosalyn bit her lip. She had to tell him. He had to know.

“Lady Elana,” she began and cleared her throat.

“What of her?” He pulled her close against his chest.

She heard the reassuring beat of his heart beneath her ear. “She tasked me to observe you on behalf of a bride,” she confessed in a rush.

Ethan’s deep chuckle vibrated under her ear. “Indeed, a bride should know if her intended is exceedingly endowed, well-equipped, and of exceptional size.”

She recognized her own words at once and a fine sense of horror flooded her. “You read my journal?” She covered her flaming cheeks with her hands.

“I never meant to.” His eyes gleamed. “But as long as we’re confessing, a few wee things did leap from the pages.” He dropped his head and nibbled her earlobe. “There’s no shame in desire. I’ve taken you dozens of times and in dozens of ways in my mind.”

His words chased her embarrassment away and sent a delightful shiver straight to her sex. So, he’d fantasized, as well? She lowered her lashes. “Tell me. It’s only fair.”

“That’s a dangerous conversation to have.” He lifted a brow.

Rosalyn glanced at the red silk canopy billowing over her head. “Here?” she mused. “In the balloon? As we sail the skies?”

He answered by dropping a hand on her breast and began to knead it, slow and hard, just like she liked. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wicker basket’s wall. She’d needed him to touch her for so very long.

As his long fingers scissored her nipple, she drew a ragged breath. “Suck me,” she heard herself whimper. “Please.”

“With pleasure, lass,” he breathed into her ear.

Ethan covered her mouth with his as his fingers slid up past her neckline, leaving a tingling trail of sensation. He caught the shoulder of her gown and pulled it down just the right amount to allow him to lift her naked breast up through the opening with smooth expertise.

His mouth left hers. She knew where he was headed. She let her head fall back, smiling at the sensation of his hair tickling her neck. Slowly, his fingertips swirled over the flesh that encircled her nipples and teased them to peak in response. Then he pinched her breast, angled the tip into his hot mouth, and latched on. When he began to suck, long, hard pulls, shivers of sensation reached clear to her toes.

“Yes,” she gasped, unable to stop from writhing like a cat in heat. She threaded her fingers into his hair and pushed his mouth down harder against her breast. “Yes, please.”

He took more of her into his mouth and continued to suckle with such strength that her channel quivered in response. Wet warmth flooded between her thighs. It felt like a dream, flying through the air, the sun warm on her naked breast and his hot mouth pulling hard on her soft flesh. Weak-kneed, she gripped the railing, and held fast, hearing only her harsh breathing and his hot mouth suckling.

With each pinch, each tug, and each soft, warm pull, a heat began to build, reminding her how empty she felt, until finally, the combination proved too much. “Take me.” She opened her legs in a silent plea to be filled. She needed him inside her. Now. With a wicked smile, she reached for his crotch.

He drew a sharp breath as her fingers brushed the hard bulge of his erection. For several long seconds, she thought he meant to stop her, but then, he broke off sucking her breasts and unfastened his breeches. His cock sprang free, lengthening even more as he guided her hand to encircle his shaft. He was so large, his flesh so warm. She felt every pulsing vein in her hand. She knew what to do. She began to stroke him, sliding her hand up and down its length.