Free Restraint by Debra Glass Page B

quickened.
    “Yes,” she said, her voice but a silken whisper that made his cock diamond hard.
    He slanted his head down to kiss her ear through her wealth of hair, to brush his lips against the curve of her shoulder. “Yes,” he echoed, rubbing more insistently now, feeling her harden beneath his fingertips. “Come for me, Catherine.”
    Her breath caught in her throat and her body stiffened as she convulsed on his hand. And when it was over, she languidly took his hand in hers and brought it to her lips, taking each finger into her mouth to lick off her own cream. Thomas nearly erupted in his breeches as he felt her hot tongue flick over his fingers and his palm.
    “Let me take you in my mouth,” she said and it was nearly his undoing.
    Hastily, he slipped the blindfold back into place, cursing himself for doing so, and then he hefted Catherine to the ground, sliding down with her. Her hands were already groping and wrestling with the fly of his doeskin breeches as she sank to her knees in the grass.
    Thomas leaned back against the solid wall of horseflesh behind him and gazed down at beautiful Catherine as she opened her mouth wide and engulfed his turgid cock. His fingers threaded into her hair and guided her gently, although she needed no help from him. She expertly licked and sucked and teased and Thomas fought to keep from coming. He wanted this to last forever.
    Catherine’s fingers encircled his phallus and then her mouth and hand were moving in rhythmic unison. Her tongue flickered around the head, lapping him, making his knees go weak. He nearly stumbled against Storm and clutched the reins to keep from falling. “Oh God, Catherine,” he muttered. “God.”
    And then she was taking as much of him as she could in her mouth. She was sinfully beautiful, bathed in the purple glow of twilight, sucking him, fucking him with her luscious mouth. He could control it no longer. “I’m going to come,” he warned her but she continued to suck even more savagely and then he was gushing, holding her head there with trembling hands as she drained him.
    He cried out into the night, cried her name. Emotions beyond his power erupted to the surface until he wasn’t coherent and he was uttering words of love to her, sinking to the ground and enveloping her in his arms.
    He pulled her against him, into his lap and rocked her, kissing her hair, his body still racked with spasm after spasm of pure bliss.
    * * * * *
    Catherine sat on a soft plaid wool blanket with her back against Thomas’ chest. He leaned against a tree, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her stomach. He had removed the blindfold at her promise not to look at him but she looked her fill at what she could see. His fingers were long and nicely manicured. His hands were tanned, the palms slightly calloused as if he did outdoor work. Catherine liked that. Robert was white and pasty and she doubted he’d ever lifted a finger to do anything other than direct a servant this way or that.
    One doeskin-clad knee was raised, the breeches straining against thick, muscled thighs. Damn, why wouldn’t he let her see his face? But she’d promised…
    She stared across the shimmering lake as the last vestige of daylight sank behind the horizon. She felt free. Utterly and wonderfully free—and in love—for the first time in her life.
    Her heart darkened when she remembered that this would likely be the last time she felt this way. A sense of doom swept over her and she gave in to the flood of tears that filled her eyes. A sob choked in her throat.
    “Catherine?”
    She covered her face with her hands and wept.
    “Catherine?” His hands found her shoulders. “What’s the matter?”
    And then she fled into his embrace, burying her head against his chest. “I don’t want to marry Robert!”
    Those big calloused hands stroked her hair. “Then don’t.”
    She stilled. And everything was quiet. There was only the sound of crickets and the toads in the lake. Was he