Free Healing Hearts by Taryn Kincaid Page B

made her relax, and with his hands and his tongue, until she was thrashing beneath him. And then he gripped the tender flesh of Emma’s thighs and guided himself into her hot, wet entrance. She felt like velvet, narrow and tight. Beneath him, Emma tensed. He pressed his mouth to hers again and her body ripened once more.
    “I’m such a goddamned bastard,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “I’m not going to be able to stop, sweetheart. Or go as slow as you deserve.”
    “I want this. I want you. ” She bucked upward against him, forcing him to move. With one sure hard thrust, he tore through her maidenhead. He seized her lips again, stifling her small cry of pain. In the next instant, he felt her soften, her passage slick and hot and inviting.
    Suddenly, her inner muscles gripped him, drawing him all the way inside her until he was seated to the hilt. He thrust into her, increasing his speed. He drove into her again and again, flesh against flesh, bones against bones, all sensation centered at the site of their hungry joining.
    He tore cry after cry of joy from her, the sounds filling him with such elation, his groans matched hers. Her legs tightened around his waist, her arms around his neck. He moved still more quickly, pounding into her, utterly lost.
    “I love you, Adam,” she murmured. “I always have.”
    He brought her to another orgasm. As he felt her muscles convulse around him, his world exploded in a blaze of heat and light. He poured himself into her in rapture, shouting out her name.
    ***
    Emma drifted slowly back to earth. Adam’s head lay on her breast, and she could hear the rasp of his uneven breathing. Nothing, nothing, had ever felt so magnificent. She gloried in the small aftershocks, the weight of the man pressed against her. Her fingers sifted through the damp hair at the back of his neck.
    “I wanted it to be better for you, poppet,” he said.
    “I can’t imagine anything better than that.”
    He smiled but shook his head. “We will just have to expand your horizons then.” He offered her a wicked wink. “With quite a lot of practice.”
    After another moment, he untangled himself from her and rose from the settee. Leaning over her, he yanked her skirts down to cover her legs and rebuttoned his trousers. Emma’s disappointment was profound. She felt sleepy and aglow and wanted to feel Adam stretched out beside her forever. He’d said there’d be other times like this. She intended to hold him to that.
    “I’ll ride to Canterbury straightaway,” Adam mumbled, his voice gruff. “If the archbishop obliges me with a special license, we’ll be wed as soon as I return.”
    “Adam—”
    “I don’t want to wait, poppet. And now our nuptials are a matter of some urgency.”
    Before she could answer him, they heard the sound of voices through the French windows of the parlor and hastened to arrange their clothing. Emma was certain she looked like a harlot. When she touched her cheeks, her skin burned and she knew the heat of passion still colored her face. She twitched her skirts and ran a hand through hair made even more wild by Adam’s ferocious ravishing. He’d been as hungry as she. The memory of her name on his lips, the way he’d shouted it to the rafters when he came, made her smile.
    She gazed up at him. His flushed face, tousled hair and fierce expression told the story of their recent activities.
    Emma linked her hand in his, just as Mrs. Billings rapped on the parlor door and then bustled into the room without waiting for a response.
    Emma and Adam exchanged glances. If the housekeeper had arrived but a few minutes earlier, Emma’s reputation would have been in shreds.
    As it was, Mrs. Billings looked from one to the other with a knowing lift of her graying eyebrows. “You intend to do right, milord?”
    “I do.”
    “Mrs. Billings!” Emma gasped.
    But the housekeeper merely nodded at Adam, apparently finding his answer acceptable. More pressing news consumed her at