In Your Arms (Montana Romance) (19 page)

She returned his kiss with desire that still ached and pulsed to be satisfied, digging her fingertips into his back.

He broke their kiss with a deep laugh, pulling back enough to look at her. “You’re not done yet, are you,” he stated rather than asked.

“I—”

Before she could answer, his hand slipped between her legs. She gasped as he touched her clitoris, sending a jolt of pleasure through her.

“I should have known that you’d be a difficult one to please,” he growled against her ear as his hand worked magic between her legs.

“I’m not—”

She sucked in a breath as he plunged two fingers inside of her.
His thumb continued to stroke her and she writhed against him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered with teasing tenderness.
“Come for me.”

She wanted to do just that.
Her body ached and ached with a fevered pitch as he played with her, giving her more pleasure than she could ever have given herself. The anticipation was almost as good as the release she felt building. She moaned at the feeling.

“Yes,” his voice was smooth and demanding near her ear.
“Let go and come for me. Or would you rather my mouth do what my hand is doing?”

She gasped at the idea, at the sweet pressure of his fingers stroking inside of her, his thumb driving her so near the brink.
He was relentless, so much so that she felt herself holding on just so that she could make the moment last. She could match him will for will and keep this fabulous pleasure going forever.

“Would you like me to
lick you?” he asked, his deep voice vibrating through her. “Would you like me to slide my tongue along your cleft and taste you?” The images of him doing just that flashed through her imagination, breaking her resolve to hold out. “I bet you taste so sweet. I could suck on you and lick you and—”

She
climaxed with a cry, her body bursting into waves of pure bliss at his words and his touch. He hummed along with her, sucking in a breath and pushing his fingers deeper inside of her to feel the grip of her orgasm. It wasn’t something she had ever shared before, but now it seemed only natural. She rode the pleasure out, focusing on how good his hand felt around and inside of the part of her that had wanted him so much.

No, it was more than that.
It was more than just the primal urge to mate that drove her into his arms and sated her. Base instinct had been satisfied, but her soul still longed for him.

He moved his hand to embrace her and she relaxed against him, dazed and spent but in no way done with him.
Her leg still rested over his and she circled an arm around his back to hold him as he was holding her. They still only lay on top of the bed and the chill in the room was a scintillating contrast to the heat of their bodies pressed together.

“You are perfect,” he whispered, tender now where he had been mischievous moments before.
He kissed her, soft but thorough.

She was beyond words.
There was so much to say, yet none of it made its way out of her heart and to her lips. She closed her eyes and nestled her forehead against the crook of his neck. A stillness deeper than anything she had known enveloped her with his arms. At last she was at peace.

Her breath had steadied and her skin had cooled when Christian whispered, “Sweetheart, we should be under the covers, not on top of them.”

She nodded and hummed, opening her eyes and extracting herself from his embrace as he twisted to reach for the edge of the quilt at the top of the bed.

Cold reality hit her with the rush of chilled air.
She gasped and sat up straight, acutely aware that she was naked and still damp with spent passion.

“Oh
, no,” she whispered, looking around at where she was. Christian’s bedroom was as foreign to her as Egypt, the quilt on his bed, his wardrobe standing against the wall as strange as distant monuments. “Oh, no,” she repeated.

“What?” Christian asked, hazy and curious.
He ignored the bedcovers and sat up to take her in his arms. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

She wriggled away before he could tighten his embrace and slid off the side of the bed.
“I shouldn’t be here. Not like this. Not in the dead of night.” She hugged herself, searching for her scattered clothes. “I have school tomorrow! How could I be so reckless?”

Christian caught up to her train of thought and climbed out of bed.
“Lily,” he started, but she ignored him. “Lily. Singing Bird.”

She stopped searching for her clothes and snapped straight to meet his eyes.
He rested his hands over her arms, holding her still.

“Calm down.
It’s all right.” He took her corset out of her hands and put it behind him on the bed then kissed her.

She wanted to give in and let his kiss pour calm into her, let his body meld with hers again and again.
Sense wouldn’t let her.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, Christian.”
She leaned back, bracing her hands against the warmth of his chest. “I have a reputation to uphold, a position to maintain. The moment I step out that door and someone sees me here, with you, in a way I shouldn’t be, I could lose everything.”

He smiled and stroked the side of her face, his ease almost lazy and certainly infuriating.

“No one is going to think any less of you for following your heart, darling.”

Frustration boiled up so fast she was hot again in an instant.
“It wasn’t my heart I was following, it was lower than that. And yes, people will think less of me. They already think so little!”

A twist of frustration to match her own clouded Christian’s expression for the briefest of moments before he forced it away with a kiss.
“I will never think less of you. In fact, after the sounds you made, I think much, much more of you.”

She huffed in frustration and tried to pull away.

He held her tight. “Stay with me. Just a few hours longer.”

She eyed him with itching uncertainty.
“I shouldn’t.” She relaxed, letting him pull her closer.

“Just a few more hours.
I want to feel you beside me tonight.”

Her soul writhed in protest even as she embraced him.
“What will I do if people see me here?”

“They won’t,” he promised.
He kissed her then let go long enough to reach behind him and pull the bedcovers down. “No one will see a thing. Wait a few more hours with me. It’ll be pitch black and everyone will be tucked away and asleep. You’ll have plenty of time to get home and you’ll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in your classroom first thing tomorrow.”

Lily hesitated.
She thought of the cellar door on the far side of the boarding house, well away from Miss Jones’s bedroom window. She thought of silent streets and the darkness of the early hours of the morning. She looked at Christian as he slid into bed, his naked body perfect and strong, his staff half-engorged with the promise of more love-making if she stayed. It was madness to even consider it, but the sight of him in all his raw, masculine beauty, sexuality unhidden and beckoning, stirred something in her too powerful to deny.

He held the bedcovers open for her, asking her to join him with an expression that was both ridiculous in its teasing and alluring in its seriousness.

“Reckless,” she whispered, giving in and crawling into bed beside him. Her heart pounded in her chest with danger as much as desire. “Foolish and reckless.”

“Just the way I like it,” he hummed, shifting to cover her body with his.

He kissed her with all the energy of a man who had won a great victory. She reached between them and closed her hand over his hardening length. His breath caught as she stroked him, testing the way he felt. He smiled and laughed deep in his throat. The ache between her legs burned to life once more.

Reckless.
There was no way this wouldn’t end in tears.

Chapter Fifteen

The first thought that formed in Christian’s mind when he woke the next morning was that love was an immensely satisfying thing. Lily was beyond beautiful, with soft skin in a shade of light brown that made him think of summer. Her full breasts—topped with dark rose nipples—fit in his hands as if they were made for him to touch. She was feisty, never giving in to him because he wanted her to or even because she should. God help him, but he loved that about her.

S
he was as eager as any woman he’d ever had in his bed. More so. He’d never spent a night so consumed with bliss in his life. She’d wanted him, all of him, so desperately that he’d lost his head and given it to her with an intensity he shouldn’t have let loose on a virgin. She had been a virgin, too, but whatever guilt he was tempted to feel over taking that from her was made up for by all the things he planned to give her. Starting with his name and enough orgasms to keep her crying that name out for years to come.

He smiled from ear to ear
at the thought and pulled her tighter into his arms. She was still asleep, loose and warm after a long night of letting locked-up passion vent. He nestled her back against his chest, the curve of her backside against his hips, and draped his arm over her side, spreading his hand over her stomach. She stirred, wriggling closer to him. If they both weren’t careful, he’d be ready to go again, and he suspected both of them were too sore to deal with that kind of mischief.

He kissed her shoulder, unable to hide his grin as pale white morning light revealed a dark spot on her neck that he’d put there.
She would rage at him for leaving his mark, he was sure, but the singular satisfaction of seeing it there, knowing she was his in every way, was just too wonderful not to smile. He kissed the spot again, touching it with the tip of his tongue.

Lily hummed, long and lazy, as she came out of sleep.
Her body writhed against his as she stretched herself awake. He was more than awake already.

“Good morning,” he whispered, nibbling on her earlobe.

She twisted into him, skin sliding against skin. Her fingers threaded through his hair.

“Good morning,” she said.

Her eyes flickered open. She smiled. Perfect in every way.

A moment later she gasped, her whole body going rock hard.

“What?” He sat up, arms still around her.

“No!”
She pushed her long, tangled hair out of her face, glancing around as thought the room was on fire. “No! It’s morning! You were supposed to wake me!”

The reality of the situation swung in on him like a door slamming and hitting him in the back.

“Shit!”

He rolled out of bed, heading straight to the small curtained window
that faced into his back yard. Lily scrambled out the other side of the bed and began scooping up her clothes. Christian parted the curtains just enough to peek out into the daylight.

“Oh, shit.”

He rubbed the stubble on his chin and stared out into a pristine white world. The yard that separated his house from the courtyard was blanketed in fresh snow. Lots of it. The pink-tinged light of a dawn that was mostly spent cast shadows on the glittering wonderland.

“What is it?” Lily asked.

She stumbled up behind him, her chemise and drawers already on. He stepped aside long enough for her to see the trick Nature had played on them.

“No!” she repeated placing a hand on the icy glass.
“No, this can’t be happening.”

He took a deep breath.
“Nothing is happening yet.”

She whipped to face him, as furious as if he had planned the snow himself.
“I can’t be seen with you this early. How much did it snow? Can we even get out of the house? It’s a school day!” Her last breathless statement was the most panicked of all.

He spread the curtain wider, assessing the situation.
It was hard to tell from the yard alone.

“I don’t think
school will start on time on a day like this,” he said.

Lily shook her head.
She pushed away from the window and charged around the bed to continue dressing.

“This was a terrible, reckless idea,” she muttered as she fastened her corset.
“If I’m seen, if anyone suspects what happened between us, I will lose my position at the school, my place at the boarding house….” She trailed off into comments too low for him to hear.

Christian turned away from the window, ready to face the gallows.
This was his fault as much as hers. If he hadn’t lost one head and listened to the other….

He stopped short at the sight of Lily.
Her hair was a wild mess of black around her shoulders. The white of her chemise and corset in contrast to the warm brown of her skin, the rise of her breasts against the fragile material and one of her slender legs propped on the bed as she tugged a wool stocking on sent a jolt of need through him.

On second thought, his little head had the right idea.
He took a deep breath and smiled. He should have been thinking of a way to get her out his door and back to her boarding house. He should have been plotting how to keep her reputation as spotless as the snow outside. Instead he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, just watching her. How bad would it be if they were discovered, really? If the worst happened, he would rescue her.

When she was finished with her
stockings her eyes snapped up to meet his. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

Perfect and wild.
White underclothes, brown skin, black hair, and a dark red mark near the base of her neck that he could still taste. Yes, she was his and anyone who held her at fault for that would have to talk to him about it.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said.

A fury of emotion flickered across her face, passion, tenderness, and anger.

“And you’re the most naked thing I’ve ever seen,” she shot back and bent to scoop up his pants.
She marched around the bed to shove them at him. “Get dressed and help me get out of here.”

She turned to walk away but thought better of it and spun back to him.
Without warning she leaned into him and kissed his lips. He blinked in shock.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen too,” she said, “but not right now.”

This time when she pulled away she meant it. Her whole focus poured into finding her clothes and getting dressed. Christian gave in and dressed himself, half in his clothes from the night before and half in clean things from his bureau.

“I’ll get you home safe,” he promised her.
“It’s still early and it snowed. People will stay indoors because of the snow.”

“I wish I could believe you,” she muttered.

His own mix of emotions, indignation and amusement, knotted his gut.

“You can believe me,
sweetheart,” he argued. “I will get you home without anyone seeing you.”

She sent him a doubtful look, then tried to tack a smile on the end.
It wasn’t convincing.

Their perfect night was over.
Christian strode past her and into the front room to find his winter things. She followed and was dressed in her coat, hat, and mittens before he had finished lacing his boots. As soon as they were secure, he stood and marched to the door, grabbing his coat from its hook and throwing it on.

“Stand back,” he told her, holding out an arm as if opening the door would cause an explosion.
If anyone was within sight of his house, it just might.

He turned the handle and opened the door.
Light snow and icy air swirled in over his toes. The snow was at least eight inches thick but powdery.

“We’re not stuck,” he murmured, motioning for her to come forward.
“And it looks like no one is out yet.”

“Are you sure?”

He turned to look at her as she crept up to peer over his shoulder. The weight of her hands resting on his back as she studied the outside world was enough to make him smile again.

“
If you think it’s too much of a risk, we could always go back to bed.”

She met his eyes.
Her scowl gave way to worry far too quickly. It was enough to convince him to risk life and limb to keep her feet dry.

“All right, let’s
go.”

He took her hand, the wool of her mitten soft against his skin.
Together they stepped out into the snow. He shut the door behind him and led her through the yard to the side-road that passed between his house and the courthouse and the surveyor’s office on the other side. Still not a soul was in sight.

“It’s quicker to go down Main Street,” he thought aloud as they paused in the
ankle-deep snow, “but we’re more likely to run into people.”

“We can’t be seen.”
Lily let out a breath that misted in the air between them. “But I’d rather get there as quickly as possible.”

Christian nodded and led her on.
He walked as if he had every right to be there, eyes flickering from side to side as though he didn’t. They reached the turn onto Main Street, but still the town was silent.

“Let’s cross here and walk along the porches on the other side,” he said.

She nodded and they pushed out into Main Street, digging a furrow in the snow as they went.

The street cleaners were out shoveling at the far end of Main Street by the train station.
Christian heard Lily gasp but kept moving forward. The shovelers were too far away to make out who they were. No harm had been done yet.

When they stepped up onto the porch in front of the newspaper office Christian let out a breath.
So far so good. The snow must have convinced more than just him and Lily to have a late morning.

He squeezed Lily’s hand and picked up his pace along the wide stretch of connecting porches.
It was ridiculous of him to be so worried about being seen with her. He loved her. He was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wanted to marry her. What difference did it make if they were seen together in the early morning? All this subterfuge was unnecessary. He should even—

The door
of Michael and Charlie’s shop swung open as they passed. Lily yelped and Christian gasped, “Jesus, Michael!”, heart racing.

“Christian?
What are you doing out here so early?” Michael stepped out into their path.

At the same time the door to the jail opened across the street and Lieutenant Wilkins
tossed a mug of something out into the snow. He glanced up.

Christian swore and pushed past Michael, pulling Lily with him into the darkened store.
She ducked in, peering over her shoulder with genuine fear in her eyes. Michael followed them and shut the door.

“I would ask what on earth
you’ve been up to, but now I have a fairly good guess,” Michael said. His lips twitched in that enigmatic grin of his as he glanced to Lily.

“Shut up,” Christian said, more for the grin than his words.
He glanced quickly around the store then started for the doorway to the back room. Lily still held fast to his hand. “Can we cut out the back way?”

“I don’t see why not,” Michael shrugged and followed them.
“I take it you’re not in the mood to be seen?”

“Not at all,” Christian grumbled.

He shot through the curtained doorway and straight into a stack of empty crates. They crashed to the floor, one splintering.

“Ssh!” Lily admonished him.

“Sorry,” Christian apologized, as much to Michael as to her. “We’ll try not to wake Charlie and the baby.”

“They’re not here.”
Michael chuckled and flicked on the electric lights. He was enjoying the scene far too much for Christian’s comfort. “We’ve more or less moved into the new house, so they’re there. When I saw the weather last night, I decided to sleep in the old apartment so I could open the store in plenty of time to sell shovels and brooms.”

“You would,” Christian muttered and pressed on through the storeroom.

“I’m so sorry,” Lily whispered an apology as she trailed Christian down the narrow row of shelves. Her cheeks were bright pink from more than just cold.

“Don’t be,” Michael said.
“I highly approve of women chasing after what they want.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Christian said as they reached the back door.
“His wife tells him what to think.”

“All wives tell their husbands what to think,” Michael added.
“Smart husbands listen.”

He skipped ahead of them and unlocked the back door.
It slid open wide enough for Christian and Lily to sneak out onto the stairs that led to a wide alley between two rows of buildings.

“You didn’t help us,” Christian said over his shoulder as he helped Lily down the slippery stairs.
“You didn’t see us.”

“I most certainly did not,” Michael agreed, then shut the door behind him.