Touch of a Lady by Mia Marlowe Read Free Book Online Page A

the future hold for you and me?”
    Her lips curved into a sly smile. “I see you spreading your cloak in the grotto. And then I see us lying down together. And when we rise again, I shall no longer be a virgin.”
    “Del …” His voice caught in his throat. She was giving herself to him without reservation, without conditions. But if he took her, he’d place enough conditions on himself.
    She smiled at him.
    She was obviously smart enough to know that about him.
    “If we . . . I promise . . . ” Suddenly words were no match for the storm in his heart. He dragged her into the grotto, tearing off his cloak and tossing it to the ground. She was in his arms then, kissing, caressing, meeting his desperation with her own.
    There was no question of disrobing completely. His urgency was too great. He kissed down to the lace at her neckline and tugged the satin ribbon free with his teeth. When the knot unraveled, he parted the thin muslin and bared her breasts. They fit his hands perfectly, her tight little peaks hard and hot against his palms.
    Even as he bunched her nightrail and wrapper in his fists and raised her hem to her waist, she was busy undoing the buttons at his hipbones to drop the front of his breeches. When she plunged in with both hands to cup his ballocks and stroke his cock, he feared he might lose control and spill his seed like a callow youth.
    Her mouth was the whole world. He dove into it, his tongue showing her in slow strokes what he wanted to do to her once another part of them joined. They sank as one to the spread out cloak and rolled together.
    Tristan pressed a knee between her legs and her thighs parted. He swept a hand over her belly, into her secret folds.
    She was wet. So wet. Her body wept for him. He responded to her need with a quick pulse or two, so he forced himself to concentrate on lowering the rising pressure in his shaft. He trailed two fingertips through those silken valleys, coating every sweet bit of her with that hot moisture. Her little ‘pearl’ was fully exposed and she moaned into his mouth when he stroked it.
    “Please,” she whimpered. “I’m so empty.”
    He didn’t make her ask him twice.
    He was careful to hold his upper body’s weight on his elbows, but he let his lower half settle between her legs. He found her sweet entrance at once and slid into her in a long slow thrust.
    She gasped at the rending of her purity, but he kissed away any pain he might have given her. In a few heartbeats, she was tilting into him, urging him to move.
    He tried to go slow. Really he did. He’d heard it added to a woman’s pleasure to be taken at a more leisurely pace, but he couldn’t hold back. Pressure built inside him, like a thunderstorm gathering under lowering skies, all its power concentrated in one place.
    Tristan thrust into her, but Del rose to each one, moving to meet him. Finally, she wrapped her legs around him and locked her ankles at the small of his back. She moaned his name, begging him to go deeper, for God’s sake, deeper. He arched his spine and she convulsed around him, her small muscles tightening on his thick rod.
    His release was sudden. Unstoppable. He could only hold on while he poured his life into her. She cried his name and he wished he could give her the world.
    After it subsided, he settled onto her, still careful not to crush her with his weight.
    The storm that had built inside him was finally stilled. Beyond their little circle of two, nothing had changed. He still didn’t know how he’d meet the needs of the Devonwood estate and take her to wife, but somehow, he’d do it. Whatever happened, it would be all right so long as he had her.
    She was his home.
    Delphinia smiled up at him and rubbed her heel along the crevice of his arse. “Can I predict the future or what?”
    His belly jiggled with a chuckle as he slid out of her. “You, Madame Zola, are nothing short of amazing.” He rolled to one side and took her with him, tucking her