The Mysterious Mr. Heath by Ariel Atwell Page B

again,” he murmured, pressing tender kisses against her cheek and brow.
    “There is no need to stop,” she reassured him. “I love the way it feels when you are inside of me.”
    “Thank you for taking me again.” He kissed her, his hands and mouth caressing her in rhythm with the motion of his cock as he stroked in and out of her body. Holding her hips with both hands, he tilted her up until he was fully embedded within her. “Oh God, it’s so good. You are so good.”
    She could tell by the increasing pace of his thrusts that he was growing more excited, and his enjoyment fueled her own passion. So when he suddenly pulled out of her a few moments later, she gave a little moan of protest.
    “I won’t last long if we continue this, and that will not do at all.” She watched as he gathered up a blanket and thrust it beneath her hips, fully exposing her most private places to him.
    “What are you…” she began to ask.
    “Shhh,” he said. “You will like this, I promise.”
    He lowered his head, and before she could react, his lips touched the core of her in a shockingly intimate kiss beyond her wildest imaginings.
    “You shouldn’t, you must not,” she protested, seeking to push him away.
    He looked up at her. “Laurence, you are undoubtedly the most brilliant, beautiful, and capable woman I have ever met. But right now, at this minute, you need to lie back and allow me to have my wicked way with you.”
    “But…”
    “Dammit it, woman, for once would you do what you are told?” he growled, and she retreated.
    “Fine, but I won’t enjoy…oh…oh…oh yes,” she breathed as his flicked the tip of his tongue against that place where she pleasured herself at nights. And then he was licking her until she could no longer control her moans. Without lifting his mouth from her body, he grasped both her hands and put them on top of his head, showing her how she could enhance her own enjoyment by exerting pressure.
    Again and again, she felt herself coming close to the edge but unable to reach that pinnacle despite all that he was doing, and she nearly sobbed with frustration as her fulfillment slipped from her grasp each time.
    Sensing her need, Matthew slid a finger into her moist channel, continuing to ravish her with his mouth while stimulating the sensitive nerves inside her.
    “Oh yes, yes,” she cried, as she reached her peak at last.
    “My turn,” he said, rising up to again fill her throbbing body with his hard length.
    With his kiss, she tasted herself on her lips and wanted to die with mortification, but he gave her no chance, thrusting harder and faster into her willing flesh. He stiffened and with a deep groan, lifted himself from her, spilling his seed outside her body.
    He fell back against the pillows, panting heavily, and she lay back as well, enjoying the afterglow of the pleasure they had given each other.
    After a few moments, he looked over at her. “Laurence, my love?”
    “Yes, Matthew?” she said drowsily.
    “Will you marry me?”
    All at once, she was wide awake. “You cannot be serious.”
    “Once again, not what a man hopes to hear from the lady in his bed.”
    Sitting up, she pulled the covers nearly to her chin, as if they would offer some protection from the audacity of his words.
    “Why on earth would you wish to marry me?” she asked, utterly confounded. “Have you gone mad?”
    “If I have, it is because you are making me so,” he said. “But more to the point, I am not in the habit of having marital relations with women I am not planning to marry—particularly virgins. Most particularly virgins who go about dressed as men. I would not have dishonored you this way had I not intended to offer you marriage.”
    “I am nearly fifty years of age. Much too old for you,” she said.
    “You are barely forty, and your age means naught to me,” he said dismissively.
    “A man cannot marry another man,” she said.
    “As we have proven last night and again this