Free Out Of Her League, An Erotic Romance by Ava Archer Payne

legs. Then he paid the same loving attention to her other breast.
    Her breathing rough and uneven, Kate dragged her fingers through his dark hair, arched her back, and thrust her breasts in his face.
    More. She wanted—needed—more.
    James shifted her on his lap. Grasping her hips, he turned her until she was facing away from him, looking forward and straddling his thigh. He kissed the tops of her shoulders, then went to work loosening the deep gold ribbons that laced up her spine. The corset fell away, leaving her naked from the waist up.
    His large hands neatly encircled her waist. James brought his palms up, softly skimming her ribcage, then placed one hand on her spine and gently positioned her in a forward-tilted angle, so that she sat with her her skirts splayed over his rock-solid thigh, her toes lightly brushing the rug.
    Once he’d satisfactorily positioned her, he reached forward and cupped her breasts in his hands, pulling her back against him.
    Kate heard herself moan with pleasure. She’d developed early, blossoming into womanhood at a younger age than most of her friends. For years she’d harbored a secret embarrassment at the size of her breasts, considering them too large and unseemly, yet they fit perfectly into James’s hands.
    His hands were unlike the smooth hands of most of the English gentry she’d nursed. His hands were slightly rough, almost coarse—calloused from his soldiering days, perhaps? The delectable friction of his palms scraping against the her nipples, kneading and massaging her breasts, nearly drove her wild.
    He shifted his knee upward and she slid back a bit, coming to rest against his groin. Kate felt his erection stiffen against her ass, his trousers bulging against the bunched fabric of her skirts. He moved slowly, rocking his knee up and down as he massaged her breasts.
    She arched her back, absorbing his steady gait, happily riding him astride. His thigh felt hot, hard between her legs. Her thigh muscles tightened around him as a steady, rhythmic pressure built at the juncture of her sex. She drew up her arms and locked her hands around James’s neck.
    “Talk to me, Kate,” he whispered against her temple. “I want to hear your voice.”
    She shook her head, breathless and wild, lost in the sensations building within her. “I can’t…I don’t—”
    “Tell me about the corset. Where you found it, why you bought it. Anything. I want to know you.”
    “I bought it at Madame Terreau’s,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper. “I heard them giggling about the shop and I followed them there one day.”
    “Them? Who?”
    “The nurses. Not the nurses like me—the other ones. The nurses who meet their lovers outside by the wall.” Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I pretend not to know what happens there, but I do. I’ve known about it for months now.”
    “Tell me, love.” A note of excitement entered James’s voice. He rocked his thigh a little faster, increased the pressure on her breasts. “Tell me about those nurses and their lovers. Are they friends of yours?”
    “No. I hardly know them.” She shook her head, catching her breath. “There is a wall that divides the hospital grounds from the gardens where those nurses meet their beaus. They kiss and embrace and...do other things. Sometimes I go there.”
    “Why?”
    “I’m not sure—”
    “Because you like to watch.” His voice was a beacon, guiding her toward some heavenly destination.
    “Yes.” She nibbled her bottom lip and wrenched out a confession. “Once when I was walking by I heard the sounds a couple was making. They made me feel weak inside. Hot and flushed, even though it was a cool day. I slowed my steps to listen. To look.”
    “What did you see?”
    “I saw a man with his hand up a woman’s skirt.”
    “Like this?” James drew his fingers up her leg, caressing the tender flesh between the tops of her stocking and the juncture of her thighs.
    Kate’s breath hitched.