Loving The Lost Duke (Dangerous Deceptions #1)(54)

Cal closed his eyes and she wondered whether she had embarrassed him, whether she would have embarrassed herself when he opened them again and looked at her.

When he did, he said simply, ‘You have robbed me of words. Let me show you how I feel about you.’

He laid her back onto the heavy silk lining of the greatcoat and came down beside her on one elbow, the buckskin of his breeches against her hip, his left arm beneath her shoulders, his right hand finally, finally, touching her, down over her breasts to her belly, up again, caressing, exploring, leaving a tingling, aching trail of pleasure.

Sophie forced open her eyes and watched his face, stunned by his expression, the focus. She shivered and his gaze snapped back to her face.

‘Are you all right, Sophie?’

‘Oh, yes, but you…’

‘Are in heaven. And purgatory.’ He bent to kiss her, capturing her mouth, letting her hide by sheer closeness as his finger fretted at her nipples, pinching lightly until the hard nubs were sending shafts of aching pleasure from her breasts to her belly, to her sex. She moaned into his mouth, arched against him as his hand slid lower, down to the nest of curls, slid between her thighs, even as she instinctively pressed them together.

‘Let me in, Sophie. Let me love you.’

The words were like a key, freeing her, letting her resisting muscles relax for him. Cal found the core of her, the wet, aching centre, touched her perfectly with one perfect relentless, gentle stoke after another and her world imploded.

She screamed, but Cal’s mouth was there to capture the sound, his hands were there to hold her safe until she came back to herself. His voice was there, calling her back. ‘Sophie, Sophie my love.’

‘Cal?’

‘Mmm?’ He was nuzzling her ear which was good because she was not at all certain she could face him, not after that totally abandoned flood of passion, the intimacy, the shock of his words.

Sophie, my love. He didn’t mean it of course, he couldn’t, but the word, the concept would not leave her. I am falling in love with him. She should be terrified after what had happened last time, but all she felt was a rock-solid certainty that she was right to love him, that he cared for her, that he was a good man and she could trust him with her heart as well as the rest of her life. Such a fool to reject love because of one bad man.

‘Sophie?’

‘I am sorry, I was drifting.’ She snuggled down against him, then raised her head and me his gaze across the bare expanse of his chest. ‘I am being very selfish, don’t you want me to …’ Her voice trailed away. She knew some of the things that he might wish her to do, but she wasn’t certain she had the words for them, or even the nerve to mention them.

‘To what, Sophie?’ He was smiling at her, but not laughing at her ignorance.

‘To pleasure you.’ Her hand seemed to move of its own volition to the falls of his breeches.

‘Do you want to or do you just think you ought to?’ If she hadn’t known him so well now she would have thought it merely a request for information, but now she could hear the desire behind the words and his concern to keep it from being a demand.

‘Want.’ That was the truth. ‘Show me.’ Her fingers were already busy with the fastenings and Cal lifted his hips to give the breeches a sharp tug down. Sophie kept her eyes locked with his as her hand explored, found him, curled around. His eyes closed, his lips compressed on a groan.

‘Oh, so soft, like mushroom.’

Cal’s lids flew up. ‘Like what?’

‘Mushroom skin, or suede. So soft, and so hard underneath.’ Fascinated, she began to experiment. ‘So mobile.’

‘Sophie.’ It sounded as though Cal’s teeth were gritted. ‘Did you never touch your lover like this?’

‘No.’ She was up on her elbow now, her hair trailing across Cal’s chest. ‘He just, er, entered me.’

‘Bastard.’ Cal fell flat on his back with a gasp. ‘Sorry, him, I mean. Oh God, harder, Sophie, like this.’

He reached and covered her hand with his, tightened her tentative grasp, showed her what he needed, then jerked her against his chest, kissing her as he arched into her grip, moving with her until he bowed up, his cry hoarse against her lips and fell back.

The breeze swirled around them bringing the scent of crushed grass, musk, salt, sweat. Heaven. Sophie closed her eyes and slept.

She woke to the sound of pigeons cooing overhead, the distant sound of sheep and the awareness that she was alone on the crumpled greatcoat. ‘Cal?’

He came back through the wood carrying the water bottle and a large handkerchief, poured water over it and hunkered down beside her to wash her hands.

‘You are dressed.’

‘I thought it best. We can hardly stay here naked in the woods for the rest of the day, although you tempt me.’ He picked up her clothes and began to shake them out and hand them to her. Stockings and garters, chemise, stays. He knelt to lace them, then found her shirt.

He knows the correct order to put things back on again as well as being an expert in taking clothes off, Sophie thought ruefully as she fastened her skirts and shook them out. ‘I don’t suppose you have a comb.’ It was strangely reassuring that he shook his head. At least the man did not go out equipped for al fresco seduction.

She managed a reasonable braid with the aid of a piece of leather thong that Cal found in the saddlebag, then he tossed her up into the saddle, mounted the grey and led the way down the track away from the castle, whistling.