stopped to kiss her on the second landing, a compelling, deep, heated kiss that left them both breathless.
"Hurry," Flora murmured on a deep inhalation. "Please…"
He looked down at her, his dark eyes muted velvet in the shadows, her urgency matched by his. "Wait," he whispered, the word hot with promise. "We're almost there." He moved quickly then, taking the stairs in great strides, glancing down the lamplit corridor as he reached the second floor, looking for the nearest empty room.
They were inside in seconds, the door abruptly kicked shut, and in seconds more he made his way in the darkness to the bed, placed her on the silk comforter, and followed her down. She lifted her own skirts, so frantic was her need, while he ripped open the tie on his leggings, and in only breath-held moments more he was deep inside her. They blazed hot with two weeks of pent-up desire, and their first time that night was an incoherent memory, so ravenous was their passion, so overwhelming their hunger. Panting afterward, they wondered how pleasure could be so fleeting.
"My… apologies," Adam breathlessly murmured as he lay over her, his heart beating like a drum.
"No need…" Flora replied on a suffocated breath. "Believe me…"
He tried to smile in reply, but he didn't have the necessary energy. Later he did when his body had cooled and his brain was capable of more than one thought, when he'd lit the bedside lamp and they lay side by side on the rumpled blue comforter. "Lie to me if I'm wrong," he said with a grin, propped on one elbow beside her, still fully clothed, his finger tracing a lazy pattern over her collarbone, "but isn't this combination—you and me," he added in unnecessary explanation, "more intense thansay—other… experiences?" It was the understatement of his life.
"Why would I lie?" Flora replied with a teasing smile, gazing up at him in tumbled disarray, her gown and petticoats pushed up in crushed folds, her bare thighs above her silk stockings rosy pink, matching the glow on her face.
"I retract the phrase." His finger drifted downward over the swell of her breast. "Tell me," he murmured.
"Yes," she whispered, moving his hand slightly to one side so his fingertips brushed her nipple through the silk of her gown. "Yes, ummm… definitely, yes."
"I almost rode to Virginia City one night to see you," he whispered, lazily circling the rising bud of her nipple.
"I wish you had."
"I wanted to feel your legs wrapped around me. .
-
. ."
"But it wasn't worth a ten-hour ride." Her smile was mischievous.
"It turned out to be a three-hour ride," he said. "I was able to bring my libido under control by the ford at Pine Creek."
"A shame," she theatrically pouted. "When I was in decline."
"For lack of sex?"
"For lack of
your
sex."
His fingers closed firmly on her nipple. "Whom did you sleep with?"
"You're jealous."
"I don't get jealous," he answered, the pressure of his fingers easing. His familiar drawl had returned. "Who was it?"
"It's none of your business. Whom
did you
carnally entertain these last two weeks?"
"Is it a contest?" Withdrawing his hand, he studied her, a new cynicism in his eyes.
"Not with me." Her dark brows rose archly. "You're remembering your wife."
"And you're different?"
"I didn't even kiss a man in the last fortnight because I wanted only you. Is that plain enough? I'm not much good at subterfuge."
"Pardon me if I don't believe you after our fascinating introduction at Judge Parkman's."
"Whether you believe me or not doesn't concern me, but I'm going to fuck you to
death
tonight," she softly whispered, "because two weeks is a long wait."
He suddenly smiled. "I love a plain-speaking woman."
"Provided she's talking about sex?"
His grin widened. "Provided she's talking about sex with me."
"And I'd adore you, Adam Serre, even more intensely than I already do, if you'd substitute performance for talk."
"Impatient libertine."
Rolling over on top of him, she kissed him lightly.
"Hurry," Flora murmured on a deep inhalation. "Please…"
He looked down at her, his dark eyes muted velvet in the shadows, her urgency matched by his. "Wait," he whispered, the word hot with promise. "We're almost there." He moved quickly then, taking the stairs in great strides, glancing down the lamplit corridor as he reached the second floor, looking for the nearest empty room.
They were inside in seconds, the door abruptly kicked shut, and in seconds more he made his way in the darkness to the bed, placed her on the silk comforter, and followed her down. She lifted her own skirts, so frantic was her need, while he ripped open the tie on his leggings, and in only breath-held moments more he was deep inside her. They blazed hot with two weeks of pent-up desire, and their first time that night was an incoherent memory, so ravenous was their passion, so overwhelming their hunger. Panting afterward, they wondered how pleasure could be so fleeting.
"My… apologies," Adam breathlessly murmured as he lay over her, his heart beating like a drum.
"No need…" Flora replied on a suffocated breath. "Believe me…"
He tried to smile in reply, but he didn't have the necessary energy. Later he did when his body had cooled and his brain was capable of more than one thought, when he'd lit the bedside lamp and they lay side by side on the rumpled blue comforter. "Lie to me if I'm wrong," he said with a grin, propped on one elbow beside her, still fully clothed, his finger tracing a lazy pattern over her collarbone, "but isn't this combination—you and me," he added in unnecessary explanation, "more intense thansay—other… experiences?" It was the understatement of his life.
"Why would I lie?" Flora replied with a teasing smile, gazing up at him in tumbled disarray, her gown and petticoats pushed up in crushed folds, her bare thighs above her silk stockings rosy pink, matching the glow on her face.
"I retract the phrase." His finger drifted downward over the swell of her breast. "Tell me," he murmured.
"Yes," she whispered, moving his hand slightly to one side so his fingertips brushed her nipple through the silk of her gown. "Yes, ummm… definitely, yes."
"I almost rode to Virginia City one night to see you," he whispered, lazily circling the rising bud of her nipple.
"I wish you had."
"I wanted to feel your legs wrapped around me. .
-
. ."
"But it wasn't worth a ten-hour ride." Her smile was mischievous.
"It turned out to be a three-hour ride," he said. "I was able to bring my libido under control by the ford at Pine Creek."
"A shame," she theatrically pouted. "When I was in decline."
"For lack of sex?"
"For lack of
your
sex."
His fingers closed firmly on her nipple. "Whom did you sleep with?"
"You're jealous."
"I don't get jealous," he answered, the pressure of his fingers easing. His familiar drawl had returned. "Who was it?"
"It's none of your business. Whom
did you
carnally entertain these last two weeks?"
"Is it a contest?" Withdrawing his hand, he studied her, a new cynicism in his eyes.
"Not with me." Her dark brows rose archly. "You're remembering your wife."
"And you're different?"
"I didn't even kiss a man in the last fortnight because I wanted only you. Is that plain enough? I'm not much good at subterfuge."
"Pardon me if I don't believe you after our fascinating introduction at Judge Parkman's."
"Whether you believe me or not doesn't concern me, but I'm going to fuck you to
death
tonight," she softly whispered, "because two weeks is a long wait."
He suddenly smiled. "I love a plain-speaking woman."
"Provided she's talking about sex?"
His grin widened. "Provided she's talking about sex with me."
"And I'd adore you, Adam Serre, even more intensely than I already do, if you'd substitute performance for talk."
"Impatient libertine."
Rolling over on top of him, she kissed him lightly.
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