Tempting Mr. Weatherstone: A Wallflower Wedding Novella (Originally Appeared in the E-Book Anthology FIVE GOLDEN RINGS) by Vivienne Lorret Page A
Authors: Vivienne Lorret
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the cold. Yet his warm hand covered her instantly, pressing and kneading her flesh until she ached for more.
Her body was a mass of tingles. The quivering low in her belly intensified unbearably. She pressed herself against the hardness of his thigh to quell the throbbing ache between hers. A sweet sob escaped her at the contact.
He tore his mouth away, his eyes hooded and fiery. When he looked down at her flesh in his hands, an expression of blatant ownership swept over his features. It was as if he said she was his, and there was no denying it.
Yes, something desperate inside her cried. Yes, I am yours. Make me yours!
In answer to her unspoken plea, he bent his head and closed his mouth over her taut flesh. The sensation was like nothing she’d ever felt. Hot and wet, he drew her deeply into his mouth. It was like being stung, but the pain was sweeter, sharper. Relentless, his tongue flicked over her, abrading her, making her squirm more against him. His skilled fingers plucked her other nipple, intensifying the feeling until the sharp stings and the throbbing ache below were in rhythm with each other.
Her whole body tightened. She rocked her hips again. Suddenly, her body convulsed, her hips moving without her consent, her breasts tightening to the point of shattering. He groaned again, his teeth gently raking over her flesh.
And then she did shatter on a wordless moan, clutching him fiercely as wave after wave of pleasure washed through the shattered pieces of her.
All at once, she was so exhausted she couldn’t open her eyes. She sagged in Ethan’s arms, barely holding on to him as he settled back onto the seat with her.
T HE NEXT THING she was aware of was Ethan’s carrying her into her father’s study and laying her down on the settee. It was still early yet; the sweet aroma of freshly baked breakfast pastries filled the house.
He paused to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “We will talk about this later.”
She blushed and nodded. Now that they were no longer in the confines of the carriage, knowing what had just occurred made her feel shy. Strange, she didn’t feel shy at all while it was happening.
He must have been feeling a little shy as well because he looked guiltily away. Then, as if he’d known her plot by heart, he made his way to her father’s desk. On top, sat two folded letters. Ethan picked them both up and likely noted that one was addressed to him. She swallowed nervously, wondering if he would read it now. How could she bear to look at him after what she’d written, after admonishing him for being the cause of her needing to leave?
Yet, in the next moment, he moved to the hearth. Without asking for her consent, he threw the unopened letters into the fire.
He glanced over at her again, his unruly hair delightfully disheveled. “When Vernon let me in, I merely told him you suffered a fall on your morning walk. So, perhaps you could limp around a bit to make it convincing.”
“Oh. All right.” She blushed again, realizing only now that her clothes were back in order.
Looking up, she hoped to find reassurance in his gaze. She received a small smile instead and a nod before he left.
Chapter Six
T HE W EATHERSTONES AND the Rutledges set out late the next morning and traveled all day. Once they reached the halfway point of their journey, they stopped at an inn for the night. Being so late in the year and with the threat of snow hanging in the dark-lined clouds overhead, there weren’t many travelers, and the owner and his wife doted on those who were there. In fact, they were so well tended to that Penelope didn’t have a single moment to speak with Ethan.
Of course, she wasn’t expecting a declaration of love over a bowl of turnips, especially with their parents so close by. However, she did expect more than their usual conversation, which consisted of remarks on the delicious pork pie, the fine crust on the jam tart, the robust flavor of the mulled wine . . .
Yet,
Her body was a mass of tingles. The quivering low in her belly intensified unbearably. She pressed herself against the hardness of his thigh to quell the throbbing ache between hers. A sweet sob escaped her at the contact.
He tore his mouth away, his eyes hooded and fiery. When he looked down at her flesh in his hands, an expression of blatant ownership swept over his features. It was as if he said she was his, and there was no denying it.
Yes, something desperate inside her cried. Yes, I am yours. Make me yours!
In answer to her unspoken plea, he bent his head and closed his mouth over her taut flesh. The sensation was like nothing she’d ever felt. Hot and wet, he drew her deeply into his mouth. It was like being stung, but the pain was sweeter, sharper. Relentless, his tongue flicked over her, abrading her, making her squirm more against him. His skilled fingers plucked her other nipple, intensifying the feeling until the sharp stings and the throbbing ache below were in rhythm with each other.
Her whole body tightened. She rocked her hips again. Suddenly, her body convulsed, her hips moving without her consent, her breasts tightening to the point of shattering. He groaned again, his teeth gently raking over her flesh.
And then she did shatter on a wordless moan, clutching him fiercely as wave after wave of pleasure washed through the shattered pieces of her.
All at once, she was so exhausted she couldn’t open her eyes. She sagged in Ethan’s arms, barely holding on to him as he settled back onto the seat with her.
T HE NEXT THING she was aware of was Ethan’s carrying her into her father’s study and laying her down on the settee. It was still early yet; the sweet aroma of freshly baked breakfast pastries filled the house.
He paused to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “We will talk about this later.”
She blushed and nodded. Now that they were no longer in the confines of the carriage, knowing what had just occurred made her feel shy. Strange, she didn’t feel shy at all while it was happening.
He must have been feeling a little shy as well because he looked guiltily away. Then, as if he’d known her plot by heart, he made his way to her father’s desk. On top, sat two folded letters. Ethan picked them both up and likely noted that one was addressed to him. She swallowed nervously, wondering if he would read it now. How could she bear to look at him after what she’d written, after admonishing him for being the cause of her needing to leave?
Yet, in the next moment, he moved to the hearth. Without asking for her consent, he threw the unopened letters into the fire.
He glanced over at her again, his unruly hair delightfully disheveled. “When Vernon let me in, I merely told him you suffered a fall on your morning walk. So, perhaps you could limp around a bit to make it convincing.”
“Oh. All right.” She blushed again, realizing only now that her clothes were back in order.
Looking up, she hoped to find reassurance in his gaze. She received a small smile instead and a nod before he left.
Chapter Six
T HE W EATHERSTONES AND the Rutledges set out late the next morning and traveled all day. Once they reached the halfway point of their journey, they stopped at an inn for the night. Being so late in the year and with the threat of snow hanging in the dark-lined clouds overhead, there weren’t many travelers, and the owner and his wife doted on those who were there. In fact, they were so well tended to that Penelope didn’t have a single moment to speak with Ethan.
Of course, she wasn’t expecting a declaration of love over a bowl of turnips, especially with their parents so close by. However, she did expect more than their usual conversation, which consisted of remarks on the delicious pork pie, the fine crust on the jam tart, the robust flavor of the mulled wine . . .
Yet,
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