Free Isabella’s Airman by Sofia Grey Page B

aircraft that wanted to shoot down his plane. He was only twenty years old. It seemed an unfair weight of responsibility for one so young. In contrast, the most important thing I had to do was to submit my assignments on time.
    I sat up and bent over Davy, tickling his chin with the rapidly wilting buttercup. Leaning down, I brushed my lips over his. His arm shifted, and his gray eyes stared up at me, hope blossoming.
    “I want you to make love to me, Davy. I don’t want to wait.”
    With one finger, I sketched lazy circles on his forearm, running through the short dark hairs down to his wrist. His smile grew, his free hand cupping around the back of my head, tugging me toward him. Rugged and strong, he was almost a different species to the men in my own time.
    There it was, that instant connection as soon as our lips made contact. Closing my eyes, I opened my mouth to him and felt his eager tongue flicking against my lips as he pressed tiny kisses against my mouth from one corner to the other. He seemed content to just kiss me, one hand tangled with mine, the other caressing the back of my head. He tasted of apples, and I knew that every time I ate one again, I’d remember this day.
    I gave myself completely to the experience, storing up the details to remember later. The heat of the sun warming my back, the buzzing of a nearby bee, the scent of the bluebells, a chirping from the birds overhead, and the softness of the crumpled grass beneath our blanket. Davy’s fingers meshed with mine, his hand stroking my hair, the sound of his heart beating. Rosie whickered nearby, her harness jingling.
    I would never have this again. It wasn’t nearly enough.

Chapter Fourteen
    He moved our linked hands to press against my breast. A soft groan escaped from him, the back of his hand smoothing along the curve and sweeping down again. I opened my eyes and locked my gaze with his to read his expression. Heat. Longing. Need. Those sharp cheekbones, the proud, strong chin. The little dimples that flashed when he smiled.
    Davy closed his palm over my breast, and my entire body jerked, electricity flooding through me, sparking every neuron in my brain. God. I stared down and saw my nipple standing proud through my thin dress, tingling and screaming for attention. He gave a wicked smile and extended one finger to circle around the little bud. It was slow, unbearably slow. I burned for him to touch me again, to touch me there again.
    Davy exhaled against my skin and moved up to steal another kiss, pressing deeper, his tongue seeking entrance. He tormented me. One hand against my breast, the thumb brushing past my nipple, then down again. I didn’t think. I just reacted. Grabbing his teasing hand, I closed it around my aching breast, securing it in place, enjoying the throaty rumble as he laughed against my skin.
    His mouth dropped to my collarbone, and he nudged the dress to one side. Eager to feel more, I fumbled with my buttons. “Let me,” he breathed. He moved slowly. Each button took him an age. Each new inch of skin received a kiss.
    Impatient to feel him against my flesh, I tried to help, but he refused to allow me. “Mine,” he whispered.
    His hand stroked around my breast, raising the nipple for his kiss, his hot mouth setting fire to my skin. I bucked beneath him, feeling every nerve exploding, a surge of energy running in all directions. God, Christ, and all the saints. When his tongue laid claim, I shuddered, trembling and twitching and unable to control my body. A shock wave flashed outward, shot up to my brain, and another flash to my core, suddenly aching and heavy. Davy’s hand crept stealthily up the outside of my leg to pause at the knee, his fingers flirting higher. His mouth lifted, and I whimpered, only to feel him blow a soft breath across my burning flesh. I twisted, feeling as though I were on fire, a roaring, dense heat between my legs. It was a strange feeling of pressure, a pulling, tugging sensation I’d