Promises Linger (Promise Series) (26 page)

BOOK: Promises Linger (Promise Series)
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“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I felt that all the way to my toes.”

“I didn’t hurt you?”

His response was to nip her lower lip. Sensation flashed through her body like a grease fire. “Oh!”

“Feels good, huh?”

“Oh my.”

“Hmmm.”

She eyed his lips with new respect. They obviously possessed talents she hadn’t considered. “What else feels good?”

He laughed, gave her a quick kiss, and pulled back. “Lots of things.”

She licked her lower lip and tasted him there. A shiver went down her spine.

“Tell me.”

Asa smiled. For a woman who preached convention, she sure was unconventional. “I’d rather show you.”

Before she could get around to asking the question he could see in her eyes, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and tumbled them to the blanket. Before she could rethink her decision, he scooped her onto his chest, and pulled her thighs over his. She didn’t look at him while he positioned them, but he could feel the expectancy in the careful stillness of her body. He pulled the pins from her hair, letting it glide like silk over his hands. She didn’t say a word either as he gathered her skirt up over her thighs, but her gasp as he tucked the material under her told him she felt his arousal against her thigh. She wiggled her hips, ruining his alignment.

“You want to scoot around,” he drawled, stuffing a loop of the material into the sash on her skirt.
 
“I’d be mighty partial if you moved down and to the left.”

Her brow creased. Her eyes widened as she figured out what he was saying. To his surprise, she slowly moved down until his manhood pressed her intimately. Her heat and moisture teased him through both their layers of clothing. His cock jerked and lengthened, fighting the restriction of his denims. When she pressed her hungry cunt against him again, he couldn’t prevent a thrust of his own.

“Good God, darlin’! You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I’m sorry.” That quick, she scooted away.

“Damn!”

She picked up on the dismay in his voice. She straddled him again.

It was a struggle to find a normal tone. “Darlin’, would I be right in guessing you’re not unwilling anymore?” He stopped her hips from pushing against the head of his shaft.

“I never was.”

“That’s not strictly true, but I’ll keep that discussion for another day.” He took a breath as she rubbed against him again. His drawl wasn’t the steadiest as he asked, “Do you want to make love with me?”

“Yes.”

“Then lift up a minute.”

She did. He made short work of his belt and the buttons on his pants. He slid his hand inside and freed his aching cock. It sprang into the warm sunlight, straight and strong, reaching for her thinly clad pussy. He didn’t take his hand immediately away. She was staring at his cock, her eyes wide. Her tongue peeped out, moist and tempting. She ran it over her lips. His cock twitched and pulsed against his palm, lengthening further, wanting that moist heat wrapped around the sensitive head. He wanted that tongue stroking over the flared expanse, lapping the pre-come from the tip, sliding beneath the head to tease the sensitive underside. With a leisurely movement of his hips, he pumped in time with his mental image, driving his shaft upwards through his hand so it grazed the slit in her pantaloons, tormenting them both with the teasing contact.

She followed him down on the descent.

Light as a butterfly, she settled her dry warmth onto his shaft. He jerked when her small hand attempted to encompass his cock, and then stilled as she positioned him to the delicate opening of her pussy. She rocked on him, not hard enough to force a union, but hard enough to wedge the tip into the moistening valley. He slid his hands around her buttocks and stilled the relentless pushing of her hips.

She bit her lip, and shot him a confused glance. “It won’t go in.”

He could feel the tension building in her. It didn’t take a genius to see she was trying to do this perfectly. She was just too green to know she wasn’t ready or that he was supposed to have some fun getting her there.

He ducked her gaze, crossed his fingers, and then church-serious said, “I’m embarrassed to admit this, darlin’, but I’m not ready.”

“You were before.” She bounced a little. He kept her from doing damage by catching her hips in his hands.

“Men aren’t like women,” he explained. “They need kisses and sweet-talk before they can, well, perform.”

“You want me to sweet-talk you?”

“It would help.”

“If I kiss you, you’ll be ready?”

He struggled to hold onto his laughter. “I’d be warming up.”

Her fingers on his chest brushed his nipples; the tip of her nail snagged one before moving on. Fire flashed through his body. He couldn’t suppress a groan.

She latched onto the sound like a starving dog faced with a steak. She eyed his nipple, his lips, and then her breasts, discreetly covered in white. “You said before you’d want to kiss my bubbies?”

“No lie, I’d like to do that again. But, right now, I’d settle for a kiss.”

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Close-mouthed and dry, he didn’t find it much inspiration to anything except his amusement. He didn’t hide his disappointment.

She sat up. His erection glanced off her buttocks. He bit back another moan. She was sweet and earnest, and she was driving him crazy.

“I’m not doing this right.” Her voice was an agony of self-disgust.

He made an immediate decision to shake her of that worry. “How about we make a deal?”

“What?” Sharp as a tack, the woman had the intelligence to be suspicious. He’d have to be equally sharp if he didn’t want this afternoon dissolving into chaos.

“Seeing as how you’re green at this, why don’t we come to an agreement?”

“What?”

He combed her glorious hair through his fingers. It curled and bounced back into its previous pattern over her shoulders. Lord, he thought, even her hair was stubborn. “Why don’t we agree that I’ll tell you what I want, and then you’ll do it if you feel like it.”

Her relief was palpable. “You promise to tell me if I do something wrong and you don’t like it?”

“You have my word of honor.”

He figured it was an easy promise, he didn’t even need to cross his fingers when saying it. He couldn’t imagine her using that luscious body in any manner he didn’t like.

She pushed back, hands against his chest, face set in lines of rigid determination and demanded, “Tell me what to do.”

He rolled so that she was beneath him on the blanket. That would be his pleasure.

Chapter Twelve

 

He propped himself up on his elbow so he could look down on her. “First thing I got to ask is, do you have your heart set on being proper?”

“No. I’ve pretty much given that up around you.”

“Good.” Despite the readiness of her reply, he could see she was nervous. Her eyes were huge in her face, and faint lines of tension shadowed her brow. The little lace ruffle at her throat fluttered with her pulse. He reached up and stilled it with one finger before slipping buttons from their holes. No doubt Elizabeth’s nervousness was going to get worse before it got better. The woman did not understand the meaning of the word relax.

“Come here, wife,” he ordered.

“That’s the first time you’ve called me that,” she whispered, wiggling to a more comfortable position under him.

“It is?”

“Yes.”

“That a problem?” Might as well address these worries as they came, he decided as he admired the play of sunlight and shadow over her upper chest. With the tip of his index finger, he traced the line of her right collarbone as it arced away from the hollow of her throat.

She tipped her head back. Goosebumps sprang up along the path of his finger. “Not if I can call you husband.”

He trailed his finger back along the path just taken. When he reached the hollow of her throat, he pressed. Her pulse beat a rapid tattoo beneath his touch. He smiled. “You won’t find any complaint here.”

She said “husband” again. There was a wealth of possession in the tone. He found he liked it. Almost as much as he liked her next words.

“You belong to me.”

“That’s what we promised before God. To cleave unto each other…”

“Forsaking all others,” she completed.

The breeze blew a strand of hair over her chest. It fell forward across her shoulder and caught in the open front of her shirt. He traced its path as it curled down over her breastbone and into the cleavage just visible over the lace edge of her undergarment. “Why am I not surprised you latched onto that part?”

“Wishful thinking?” she offered.

Her breath caught as he pulled her camisole away from her skin and stared at the unfettered fullness of her breasts. He didn’t know whether that catch was from embarrassment or excitement. He didn’t really care. The white curves with their rose colored tips shivered enticingly with her roughened breathing. As he watched, the nipples crinkled and pulled into a slight pout. He wanted to feel them harden against his tongue.

“More than likely,” he agreed. He released the camisole and looked up. “You settled?”

“I believe so.”

“You have any objections if I kiss you?”

“None I can think of.”

None that she was admitting to, he corrected silently as the tension started in her neck and spread down her body. He sighed, knowing there was no cure for her nervousness but experience. He leaned over. Her eyes closed. He touched his lips to hers. Her brow creased.

The lips under his were rigid. He moved his lips to the corner of her mouth. She kissed the opposite corner of his. He touched the corner of her mouth with his tongue. Her tongue shot out and tapped the corner of his mouth. He pulled back a breath to get a gander at her expression. The crease between her brows indicated high thinking. He sighed.

“Darlin’?”

Her eyes popped open. “What?”

He shook his head. “No need for panic. I just had another question.”

“What?”

He chewed on the best way to address the subject, then decided nothing but the blunt truth was going to get the job done. “You wouldn’t be thinking of memorizing everything I do, would you?”

“Uhm, well, maybe.”

“Don’t get me wrong.” He undid two more buttons on her camisole and spread the material so it was open from chest to waist. “That’d be a great approach if I were teaching you to rope a calf.”

She leapt right into the space left by his delicacy. “That’s exactly how I learned!”

Lord help him, she looked ready to do battle in the middle of his seduction. He worked the little bow free at the waist of her camisole. “And I bet you’re a top-notch roper.”

“Good enough I don’t toss a lariat twice,” she boasted while casting a nervous glance at the amount of skin he was exposing.

He kissed the end of her nose. Mutiny dissolved to indignation. “Stay with me here because this is important.”

From the dead-on way she met his gaze, it was clear he had her attention.

“Romancing a woman, well, that’s a touchy subject for a man.”

“It is?”

He ran his finger down the length of her nose, his heart stumbling over a slight catch when her eyes crossed trying to follow his movement. “Uh-huh.”

He smoothed her right eyebrow and then moved to the left. “A man has a lot on his mind the first time he lays down with a woman.”

“Are you saying you’re feeling apprehensive?”

He could have sighed with relief that she was making it so easy for him. “Sure enough, I’m getting all het up thinking about how you’re studying every move I make.”

“But how am I supposed to learn?”

“Let me try to explain it this way. Will you agree that a good teacher is confident in what they’re teaching?”

Her “yes” was cautious.

“Well, truth is, I’m not confident enough about what you like to teach you what I like.”

She frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Oh, no, he thought. They weren’t getting into an argument now! “It does, and before you argue with me, let me remind you that I’m the one with the experience.”

“You just said that you didn’t have any.”

He grit his teeth. “With you,” he clarified. “I don’t have experience with you and, as every woman is different, I’m a bit unsure here.”

“Too unsure to teach?” The fingers on his forearm clenched as she exclaimed, “Then what are we going to do?”

It was as close to a wail as he’d ever heard her utter.

“I was kind of hoping, this time out, you could just lie there and let me know what feels good.”

“To me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“But I’m supposed to be making it good for you!”

He cupped her cheek in his hand. “Remember in the barn, you moaned when I kissed your neck?”

Her blush started at her breastbone and spread outward to her face and, intriguingly, her nipples. “Yes.”

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