Chapter 21

He kissed her. A gentle yet urgent pressure that sent warmth spread across her whole body. For a moment, she was lost in the sensation, surprised by the sudden tenderness in his lips.

"I thought you said you'd never kiss a harlot," she said softly as they pulled apart, her voice thick with emotion.

He looked deeply into her eyes, the hazel flecks shimmering in the firelight. Then, he simply shrugged. "Obviously, I was wrong."

She loved how easily he changed his mind, especially when it came to her.

A doubt still pressed in the back of her mind, but she didn't have the time to explore it as he brushed his lips against her once more. Another caress. Firmer now, more insistent.

He licked the seam of her lips, and she sighed, parting her lips. He took that opportunity to slip his tongue inside.

His hands trailed down her back and rested on her hips, then lower still, massaging the soft globes of her buttocks. The pressure of his lips intensified, his tongue sweeping proprietorially inside her mouth. Grace met his tongue with an answering stroke, and they both moaned, melting into each other.

He tasted like whisky and him. The sweet taste of his skin and a bit of salt. Ever since that night in Porter's house, she'd craved the unique taste. She arched her back, rubbing her hardened nipples against his chest, craving the contact.

She felt a flutter in her stomach that moved lower down her belly.

Ford squeezed her derriere and pressed her firmer against his hardened cock.

Grace stiffened as his movements became more purposeful, his hands moving lower, his kiss becoming more urgent.

He noticed immediately, pulling back. "Have I done something wrong?" Concern glittered in the depth of his eyes.

"You haven't." Her voice was strained.

"Really?" He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "Because I can feel you stiffen in my arms."

She released a breath. "I don't appreciate your assumption that we will… copulate, just because I am a harlot."

He blinked. "Copulate? That sounds rather biblical."

"What do you prefer?" She huffed a breath.

He paused. "Making love."

Grace stiffened again, her heart drumming violently in her chest. "Is that what it would be?"

He cleared his throat. "I would like to think so."

She frowned. "If I were a virgin, would you have behaved the same way?"

He hesitated. "No. But not for the reason you think."

"And what reason is that?"

He heaved a tired sigh. "Bedding a virgin comes with expectations. A hand in marriage, preferably."

She swallowed. "But not bedding a harlot."

"It has nothing to do with you being a harlot."

"Doesn't it?"

"I am a fugitive now. I have no prospects, nothing to offer beyond a night of passion. Perhaps a few nights. A woman who has had lovers might be more accepting of these terms. Unless you are looking to marry the man you bed?"

She shook her head.

"If you don't want me, I shall not push. I am not going to pay for the encounter, either. This is not that kind of an arrangement. I want you. I want to spend a passionate night with you. If you don't feel the same then it's fine. But if you do… I don't see a single reason why we should deny ourselves that."

Because I promised myself.

She had promised herself that the next time she shared a bed with a man it would be about feelings. About her. About him. About the need beyond the physical.

She wasn't certain if Ford was offering her that. She certainly was.

"I don't want you to wake up tomorrow regretting your impulsive decision."

He shook his head. "Is it impulsive if I've been dreaming of this for weeks?"

She swallowed but didn't say anything.

"Tell me you don't feel the same. Tell me you haven't wanted to have me inside you ever since that night at Porter's house. Hell, ever since we got stuck behind that wall of your brothel."

She didn't say anything once again. Because she couldn't lie to him.

He traced a finger down her cheek, then nudged her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Tell me, and I will turn away and let you rest. But if you want me half as much as I want you… I don't see why we shouldn't follow our feelings."

I promised myself the next time I shared a bed with a man it would be about feelings.

Grace leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips.

* * *

Her kiss was the sweetest temptation. She was gentle, yet insistent, soft yet deliberate in the sweeps of her tongue. Ford tangled his fingers in her hair, undoing her braid, bunching the tendrils in his fists, and tugging as he kissed her deeper.

He took over the kiss, angling her face for better access to her mouth.

Her hands roamed his body, her fingers biting into his flesh even through the thin fabric of his threadbare shirt.

She tugged at his garment, undoing the buttons with an urgency that was matched by the desperation of their kiss. She pulled away for a moment, just long enough to remove his shirt and toss it aside, her eyes never leaving his.

She smiled before pressing her lips against his, her raw enthusiasm lighting the fire within his veins.

Their hands found each other, exploring and discovering in the room's dim light. As they kissed, his heart raced with anticipation, his breath becoming shallow and his pulse quickening.

With one hand, he explored her face and her neck, his fingers pressing against her pulse, reveling at the speed with which it beat against her skin.

He lowered his hand and began to undress her, his touch gentle and deliberate as he slowly unveiled her body bit by bit.

Her skin felt like silk beneath his fingers, and the sight of her exposed shoulder sent a jolt of desire through his entire body.

He kissed his way across her collarbone, his lips lingering on the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. She moaned softly, her hands gripping his hair.

He lowered his mouth to her chest, his tongue tracing the line of her nightgown before he unceremoniously yanked it off.

Grace laughed as Ford sat up, his need to see her naked body undeniable.

The moonlight streaming in through the window cast an ethereal glow on her skin, making her appear otherworldly in his eyes.

She was a fucking Goddess.

He had seen her partially naked before, but it was nothing compared to the beauty of her body completely bare before him.

He traced his fingers along the contours of her body, taking in every curve and line, committing her to memory.

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Her nipples puckered from the cold air, and he couldn't help but lean in and lick them one by one.

Grace giggled, the sound a sweet melody to his ears. He wanted to make her laugh, to make her giddy with excitement and then raw with need.

He wanted to draw out every positive emotion from her and then bring her to ecstasy again and again.

Ford sucked on her nipple, his fingers traveling down her belly, only stopping to dip into her navel before continuing their journey downward.

He found that patch of hair that hid her feminine delights and groaned.

She moaned, arching her back, her legs spreading apart, letting him settle between her thighs. Her hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on.

He moved up her body, trailing kisses along her skin, then sucked on her neck, his teeth gently scraping against her skin, leaving a mark on her.

His palm pressed against her center, massaging her sweet quim. He could feel her heat, her willingness, her need. She gasped, her hips bucking instinctively, her fingers fisting in his hair.

He grinned against her neck, his fingers dipping inside her, feeling the wetness that coated his fingers.

"Oh, fuck," he breathed, finding his rhythm inside her.

Grace moaned, her breath coming in sharp gasps. Her hips bucked again, her body yearning for more. She wanted him, and she demonstrated it with her every movement, every breath, and every gentle tug on his hair.

Yet, when he positioned himself at her entrance, his hips pressing into her, his breath coming in short gasps, she pressed a hand to his chest, halting him.

He looked at her with a question in his eyes.

Please, don't ask me to stop, he was ready to beg. But he wouldn't. If that's as far as she was willing to go, he would respect her wishes, even if it killed him.

Instead, she said, "I haven't taken any… precautions. And I don't have any with me."

He raised a brow. What was she talking about? Confusion must have been evident on his face because she reached her hand down his length and stroked his pulsing cock. It jumped in reaction.

"For the consequences," she clarified.

Ah, she was referring to their earlier conversation, her determination to keep the encounters free of consequences. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Don't worry. I will be careful."

She nodded, a shy smile on her lips.

She trusted him. Unequivocally. And it warmed his heart.

He pressed his cock against her center, his heart drumming in anticipation, then thrust inside her in one swift motion.

Grace cried out, her fingers digging into his back, her body tightening around him, her muscles clutching his cock.

"You are so tight," he groaned, "my beautiful Goddess. So delicious."

She whimpered and moved her hips, begging him for more.

"So insatiable," he whispered and thrust again, their bodies moving as one.

Their breaths mingled with the ragged cries, their bodies slapping together, the only sounds in the room.

Their rhythm was unrelenting, their desire unquenchable. He could feel her inner walls clenching around him, her contractions pulling him deeper. Her whimpers turned into gasps, her head thrown back, her eyes glazed with pleasure.

Her beauty, passion, and the way her body accepted his mesmerized him. He was lost in the feeling of skin against skin, their sweat mingling, their hearts pounding in unison.

He could feel the end drawing near, the wave of pleasure building within him. He knew they were both on the brink, and he wanted nothing more than to push her over that edge. He wanted her to feel intense pleasure in his arms.

He reached down and pressed his finger against her most sensitive spot, feeling her body tremble in response. She cried out, her muscles clenching around him as he continued to press and circle her swollen nub. She thrashed against him, writhing in bliss.

Ford pulled out of her depths and thrust against her skin once, twice before his seed spilled over her belly.

Bliss crashed over him, sending him spiraling into a joyful oblivion. Their bodies shook and writhed together, their cries of passion filling the room.

Finally, he collapsed beside her, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. He reached out his arm and collected his shirt to wipe his essence from her belly. He then cleaned his cock with the same garment.

Their breaths still loud in the silent inn, Ford snaked his arm over her waist and pulled her close.

She nestled her head against his hairy chest and rubbed her cheek against him, like a cat seeking affection. She let out a contented sigh before saying, "Hmm… I hope you have sufficiently warmed up."

Ford chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.