Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Simon watched Gwendolyn cross the beach and head towards the cave. The separation had the dreaded emptiness seeping into his bones. Bitterness still ran like poison in his veins.

All the time lost.

All the years spent believing a lie.

Only one thing could numb his pain and it wasn't brandy.

When you kissed me, it felt like nothing had changed.

She was right. The first touch of their lips had ignited their passion. Only she could sate the hunger growing inside him. Only she could fill the emptiness.

He took the first few steps, then quickened his pace, his body urging him to follow her to the ends of the earth, even if his mind was a little slow to catch up.

I'm sleeping in the cave tonight.

You're welcome to join me .

A gentleman would caution her against such folly and escort her back to the house. But honour be damned. He imagined holding her soft satin body against his bronzed skin, taking the one thing he'd always wanted. Her.

Simon watched her enter the cave. She didn't glance over her shoulder, offer a coy smile and beckon him into her boudoir. The decision to join her was his alone.

He stepped into the cave.

The devil himself couldn't stop him.

Gwendolyn was waiting.

He didn't caution her about the cold or ask about the tides. He didn't tell her this was madness and they should accept the cards fate had dealt them. He didn't urge her to save herself for the man she would eventually marry.

A smile touched her lips, lips soon to be bruised from his rampant kisses. Her hair fell in ebony waves almost to her hips. "I'm glad you came."

"I've never been one for parties, but some invitations are impossible to resist."

Her sensual brown eyes caressed him as she unbuttoned her pelisse. "It's a small affair, but we have never struggled to keep ourselves entertained."

Nothing had changed.

His body reacted instantly. His heart thumped a wild beat in his chest. In truth, he didn't care if he died tomorrow. But by God, he meant to have her tonight.

"I should return to the house and fetch kindling, attempt to light a fire to keep us warm." His mouth was dry, his cock thickening. If he had his way, they'd be making love until dawn.

She shrugged out of her pelisse and laid it on the ground. "Now we're sheltered from the elements it's not so cold. During our escapades in the woods, we never struggled to make our own heat. Besides, you know we won't care about a thing once we're kissing."

He moistened his lips, his hunger reaching a fever pitch. The minx wore nothing under her dress. He'd never seen her breasts, only cupped them in his palms, but he'd imagined them round and full and squashed against his chest.

"Come here," he growled.

"I issued the invitation, Mr Garrick. You must come to me."

He was out of his coat by the time he reached her.

Their mouths clashed with the power of a lightning storm—all electrifying intensity and a passion to light the heavens. It was wild. Frantic. He'd not stop until he was buried deep inside her. The only place on earth he belonged.

They were panting as they tried to undress each other, neither wanting to break the kiss. They fumbled with buttons and tugged at material, their frustration building in a bid to be naked.

On a gasp, Gwendolyn tore her mouth from his. Her hands shook as she shoved his waistcoat off his shoulders and dragged his shirt from his breeches. Nervous fingers moved under his shirt to flutter over every hard muscle.

"Love, I want you so badly I can hardly breathe." He'd never been this aroused. Not when he'd made her come on a picnic blanket. Not when he'd pushed her against Payne's door, his fingers pumping inside her.

In a lustful frenzy, she dragged his shirt over his head and threw it to the sandy bed beneath them. While he unbuttoned his trousers, unable to get them off quickly enough, she tugged her dress off her shoulders, wiggling her hips as she pushed the garment past her narrow waist.

Her breasts were glorious.

Pale against the slivers of moonlight shining in through the cave entrance. Nipples pink and tight like rosebuds.

Her gaze journeyed over his body to linger on his hard cock. "You're everything I imagined and more. Forgive me if I appear impatient." She stepped forward, a naked goddess on a mission to please. The minx touched him, her dainty fingers wrapping around his thick shaft.

Simon hissed a breath. "Stroke me."

Convince me this isn't a damn dream.

"I want what my brother stole from me," she uttered, her hand moving slowly back and forth along his hard length.

She wanted love and marriage and a lifetime of bliss?

"I want you to have my virtue," she clarified. "I want to indulge in every wicked pleasure. I want you inside me."

His conscience pricked him for all of a few seconds.

But he was a slave to this woman's will.

His heart ached. His cock throbbed.

"And you shall have it all." He pulled her tight to his body, relishing the feel of her soft breasts against his chest. "Tell me again what you want." He'd spent so long believing she'd cast him aside that he'd never tire of hearing her salacious demands.

"You," she breathed.

The chill night air did not deter Gwen from her quest.

The risk of someone finding them did not prevent her from stroking Simon's engorged manhood or daring to say things no respectable lady should repeat.

Confessing her desires had never been a problem.

Declaring her love? That would be a mistake. She'd risk ruin but not rejection. Her heart would not survive another cruel blow.

Simon kissed the sensitive spot below her ear. "All the times I imagined this moment, the need was never this great."

She shivered against him.

I've only ever wanted you.

The words whispered through her mind, though she refused to address the host of feelings fighting for supremacy.

His body. That's what she wanted. That would be enough tonight. And his attention. She would command every second, make him look at her, make him want her so desperately he would never leave Whitehaven again.

Their goals were similar, it seemed.

The man who stole her breath, bent his head and sucked her erect nipple into his mouth. Warmth spread through every cell in her body. But it was the sudden flick of his tongue over the peak that made her knees tremble.

"Don't stop," she panted, releasing his manhood to grip his hair and anchor him to her breast. "Yes."

He was ravenous, determined to drive her wild.

Worship me!

Hearing her silent plea, he lowered her down onto the makeshift bed, his mouth finding hers as he nudged her legs open with his knee.

His body was hot. Hard. Heavier than she remembered. The dusting of hair on his chest sent tingles scattering over her skin. Their tongues thrust together with a confidence they had lacked in their youth.

"Are you cold?" he whispered against her neck. Simon Garrick was on a mission to kiss every inch of her naked flesh.

"No." Her body burned like a blacksmith's furnace. She smoothed her hands over his broad back, wanting to remember every muscled contour. "I'm never cold when I'm with you."

Outside, snow fell, white and pure amid frigid temperatures and the hostile roar of the sea. Inside, they bathed in the glow of passion, their pleasurable moans the only sound that mattered.

Simon kissed her breasts, kissed the tiny mole below her ribs. The hot brush of his lips left a scorching trail down to her navel. He looked up at her, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "I mean to taste you, love. I've wanted to taste you for so damn long."

Gwen was trying to establish what he meant, but his tongue slid through the folds of her sex before grazing lightly over her bud.

The action tore a gasp from her lips.

Their intimate touches on a woodland picnic had been daring.

This was downright wicked.

A scandalous assault on her senses.

The coil of arousal tightened as Simon's tongue worked its magic. The man had her rolling her hips in time with every lewd stroke.

"You taste like heaven," he uttered as the intense feelings inside her grew. "And you smell divine."

The man devoured her as she came apart against his mouth. The shudders had barely subsided when he rose above her, a broad grin on his handsome face.

"Shall we return to the house before we're missed?" He glanced at his jutting erection. "We're at the point of no return, love. Say now if you've had a change of heart."

Despite arousal thrumming in her veins, she had not lost the use of her faculties. Five years spent nursing a broken heart helped to put things into perspective. She wanted no man but him. Even if it meant that one night of heavenly bliss had to last her a lifetime.

Gwen reached for him. "I need you. I need to know you intimately before you have to leave."

She wished she'd not uttered the last word. His secret mission for the King would see him returning to London once the snow thawed and the lanes were passable. She didn't know if he'd ever come back.

Simon bent his head and kissed her, so slow and deep her toes curled. She clung to him as he nudged at her entrance. Delighted in the glow of satisfaction on his face as he pushed inside her.

"Gwendolyn," he groaned as her body stretched to accommodate him. "You were made for me, love."

She wrapped her thighs around him as he rocked slowly in and out of her body. It wasn't enough. She needed every inch of him, chased the desire to feel full, complete.

"Don't wait," she panted, urging him on.

"It might hurt a little."

Nothing would hurt as much as the day he left her. "I don't care. I'm confident any pain will be fleeting."

His eyes remained locked with hers as he thrust hard. He studied her, hissing a breath while sinking deep. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." She was soaring above the clouds. He was hers now. No one could steal this moment from them. Simon Garrick would always be her one and only lover.

They lay still for a few seconds. The powerful emotions rioting through her were almost too much to bear.

Tears pricked her eyes

Focus on pleasure, not love!

Gwen stroked his back and rocked her hips, a sign she was happy to continue. Carnal needs took over. The pressure inside her built again as he moved slowly in and out of her.

They found a perfect rhythm.

Their bodies moved as one.

Despite the need to temper her emotions, love filled her heart as he filled her. She clung to him, hugged every inch of his naked flesh. Remembered how every day without him had felt as cold as the dead of winter. Recalled every lonely night spent wrapped around her tear-soaked pillow, wishing it was him.

I love you , she whispered silently as their desperate pants and groans mingled in the cool air.

He came up on his muscular arms, rocked against her sex until the movement proved maddening. She came apart around him, the power of her climax ripping through her core.

It was divine.

An emotion-choked moment beyond all comprehension. One made worse when he withdrew abruptly and loneliness consumed her again.

Simon Garrick had taken her heart to France five years ago. The next time he left Whitehaven, he would take her soul, too.