Free A Stranger's Touch by Anne Herries

became boneless, melting in the heat of passion. His tongue began where his hands had left off, leading her into a maelstrom of emotions so fierce and needy that she just fell apart in his arms, her will subjected to his and the quest for pleasure.
    ‘Yes,’ she whispered as his tongue sought the most sensitive areas of her femininity, rousing her to such overwhelming feeling that she gasped and lay quivering beneath his touch, herhips rising to meet him, urging him on to what she did not know.
    ‘You’re so hot and wet, my little wanton wench,’ he murmured. ‘You are ready for me, Morwenna?’
    ‘Yes, yes,’ she was begging him to come into her, welcoming the thrust of his huge maleness, even though it stretched and filled her and for one moment she felt a tearing pain that stilled her.
    ‘It will be better in a moment,’ he said as he stilled with her and stroked her, bringing her back to that fluid state where she floated in pleasure. ‘That’s right, sweeting, let yourself go, come to me, come with me, Morwenna.’
    And she did, abandoning all thought, all reserve. She gave herself to him body and soul. Their bodies fit together as if it were ordained, moving in a sweet slow rhythm that made her nerves sing with sensation. It seemed for a while that the rain lashing down outside was a part of the wild passion that possessed them as they loved, moving towards a sudden and devastating climax that made her cry out and claw at his shoulders with her nails, while he shuddered and lay on her, slicked with sweat and satiated.
    * * *
    It was a long time afterwards before either of them spoke, and then his hand caressed the back of her neck.
    ‘You’re not sorry?’ he asked.
    ‘No, why should I be? It was beautiful.’
    ‘I shall take care of you. Remember that, my sweet love. Whatever happens in the future, I shall make sure you are safe.’
    A little tingle at her nape warned Morwenna that something was wrong and yet she did not wish to think or know why there was such an odd note in his voice.
    ‘This bed has been made recently with fresh sheets,’ she said, suddenly realising. Her eyes travelled round the room, dwelling on the hearth. ‘Someone has laid a fire. I thought Michael had no use for the cottage.’
    ‘Perhaps one of your brothers brings his women here.’
    ‘Michael.’ A chilling coldness came over her and she realised what she had done. ‘Michael would not bring a woman here, but he might bring others …’ Men he wanted to hide from view? ‘We should leave. If they came here …’
    ‘No one is coming here on such an afternoon,’ he said, holding her to him. ‘Listen tothe rain. The door is locked. They couldn’t get in—and if they tried, we’d make the bed and tell them we sought shelter from the rain.’
    ‘They would know.’
    ‘It won’t happen. Besides, I’m taking you with me when I go, Morwenna. You are wasted living here. In London you will be appreciated for your beauty. I shall give you clothes and a house of your own. We shall be together as often as I can get away.’
    Morwenna snuggled closer to his body. She could taste the saltiness of his sweat on her lips and she liked the musk of his body. She didn’t want to think about what she’d done. Bess would be shocked. Her brothers would be furious with her for throwing away her honour—and Michael would kill the man who had taken it.
    She wouldn’t tell anyone. It was her secret, a secret to have and to hold. Leaving Jacques would be a wrench, but Michael hardly ever noticed her, except when she served his supper. Bess would miss her and find the work hard, but they would have to hire another servant.
    Morwenna wasn’t going to think about her family or the future. If she did, she might begin to doubt, to fear. She would hold tight to this moment, to the man lying so close to her. Hehad promised to take her with him and she believed he meant it. The die was cast. She would not worry about what might happen