Dating Mr. December

by Phillipa Ashley

  He lifted his eyes to hers and looked into them unflinchingly. ‘I would never want to do that, Emma. No matter what else you think about me, you must know that.’

  Her stomach somersaulted. The sky was indigo now, lights twinkling on both sides of the lake as she heard the rattle of the anchor being raised. The plash of the water against the bows told her they were moving again. He still had her hands in his; his mouth was inches away from hers. She wanted him so much and it was no use now, trying to deny the absolute truth: she was falling in love with him.

  Chapter 10

  Will’s mouth had barely reached hers when Emma heard the noise behind them. A figure emerged from the gloom and coughed softly. ‘Sorry to disturb you both, but we need to know. Where are we going, Will? Back to Bannerdale or over to Ghyllside?’

  It was Charles Stanton, hovering by the door to the cabin. Will was still holding her hands in his. ‘Thanks, Charles. We haven’t decided yet, have we, Emma? Can you give us a few more minutes?’

  The older man nodded. ‘Right you are then. Let me know as soon as you can.’

  As soon as they were alone again, she dared to ask him: ‘How can we get to Ghyllside from here?’

  ‘You’ll find out,’ he answered softly, smiling and squeezing her fingers. ‘If you really want to, that is.’

  Her legs felt like cotton wool and she was glad, so glad, she was sitting down.

  ‘It’s your choice,’ he murmured. ‘I won’t try and make you do anything you don’t want to.’

  She could feel her heart racing as she contemplated the step she was about to take. She couldn’t see his face properly in the twilight but she knew what he was saying clearly enough.

  He was asking her to let him make love to her. To undress her and explore her body with those rough and tender hands… and no matter how gently, how carefully he phrased it, he wanted to take her.

  And she wanted to be taken. She wanted to spend the night with him so much, she was aching all the way from her heart to her womb. But not just one night—she wanted every night. Now and forever.

  But this might be the only night she’d ever have.

  She felt dizzy with desire and longing, the reply catching in her dry throat.

  ‘Emma, it’s time. I need to know, sweetheart. Is it back to where we started or are you coming home with me?’

  She gave his hand the lightest of squeezes and whispered, ‘Home with you.’

  As soon as the words left her lips, Will dropped her hand and left her alone on the deck. Shivering in the damp night air, she pulled her shawl tighter. Her heart thudded. She couldn’t say he’d put any pressure on her. He had asked and she had said, clearly, yes. She wouldn’t be able to complain if, in the morning, she woke up to an awkward silence and a hasty departure.

  Or if she got hurt.

  The yacht pressed onwards towards the opposite side of the lake where the dark shadows of trees were looming in the dim twilight. Splotches of light from a house glimmered between the branches. In the darkness, she heard him return to her side and felt his arm close firmly around her shoulders. ‘Where are we going?’ she murmured, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear him say it out loud.

  ‘To bed.’

  Never had two such little words had the power to turn her body molten from the core.

  ‘I’m taking you home to bed, sweetheart.’

  He got to his feet, pulling her up with him and pressing her hard against his body. Then began to satisfy the hunger she’d endured ever since he had left her so empty on the hillside. His mouth was on hers and this time… this time… he flicked his tongue gently inside her mouth, giving her a taste of the long, sweet night that was surely to come.

  As his soft kiss deepened, became harder and more urgent, she dared to explore his mouth the way she’d longed to do. Knowing that this time, he was going to finish what he’d started. She felt his thumb skim her nipples and instantly they hardened to his touch.

  ‘Cold?’ he whispered.

  She shook her head defiantly.

  ‘Good. Then you won’t need this.’ He pulled the shawl from her shoulders and let it fall on to the deck. He bent his head and trailed his tongue along the top of her cleavage. She arched her pelvis against his body and felt the hard length of him pressing against her stomach through the flimsy silk of her dress.

  ‘Still not cold?’

  ‘No,’ she murmured, pushing her hands inside his jacket, tracing his spine and the taut muscles of his back through his shirt. As she stood on tiptoe to reach his mouth again, a soft bump made her look up as Artemis nudged a black jetty jutting out into the lake. Now there really was no going back.

  She had no problem now, with letting him help her over the rail and on to the jetty in front of a large house. Light from the windows revealed the wooden slats leading from the lake on to a gravel drive. She gazed up at the house where the soft light was spilling out from some of the downstairs rooms and one of the upper ones. She didn’t need to ask him. This was his home—Ghyllside Cottage.

  The yacht’s engine faded into the darkness as she heard Will calling goodbye to the crew. The wooden boards were damp and cool under the soles of her feet. Her bare feet.

  ‘Wait!’ she cried, dashing to the end of the jetty and grabbing his arm. ‘My shoes—they’re still on board—quick!’

  ‘It’s too late, Emma. It’s gone.’

  ‘No!’ she wailed. ‘What am I going to do without them?’

  ‘Stay in bed all day?’ he offered. ‘Look, I’ll drive you home via the marina tomorrow and we’ll get them. In the meantime, I’ll carry you to the house.’

  ‘No…’ she protested, suddenly shy. ‘I… I can’t have that.’

  ‘Fine by me. As long as you don’t mind walking along the jetty, but I warn you, there are splinters in it as well as the odd slug or snail…’

  ‘Carry me,’ she squealed, putting her arms around his neck.

  ‘Good decision.’

  ‘But don’t drop me!’

  ‘Emma, what do you think I spend half my life doing?’

  Being carried off to bed by him should have felt a cliché. It didn’t. It felt more sexy and exciting than she could ever have imagined. She could still feel the tension in his arms as he carried her along the jetty to the lawns in front of the house.

  She wasn’t a waif and just thinking of how strong he was to carry her all that way turned her on even more. His shoes crunched on the gravel drive as they neared the house. Even in the darkness, she could see it was massive. A white rendered house with leaded windows. ‘This isn’t a cottage,’ she said as he set her down in the canopied porch, and she felt the sudden chill of the tiles under her feet.

  ‘That’s what it was called when I bought it. The Edwardians must have liked picturesque names.’ He took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the oak door. ‘In you go,’ he said, urging her into the hall, his fingers lingering unashamedly on her silk-clad bottom.

  ‘That’s outrageous…’

  ‘Couldn’t resist it,’ he replied, patting her backside unrepentantly. Ignoring her shriek of indignation, Will just smiled. ‘Now get inside,’ he ordered. She was ready to combust with fury and, she had to admit, from lust.

  Stepping on to the polished floor of the hall, her eyes were drawn to an oak-paneled staircase rising to the first floor. Her skin tingled as his fingers brushed her bare shoulders, pulling off her shawl and dropping it on a chair.

  ‘Do you want coffee?’ he asked, dropping a kiss on the back of her neck that made the downy hairs rise in anticipation. ‘Or can I take you straight up to bed?’

  ‘I don’t want coffee.’

  ‘Good, because I’m not making any. Now—up to bed,’ he said, picking her up again without asking permission. ‘It doesn’t have to be mine, you know,’ he told her as he carried her up the stairs, his eyes sparkling. At the top of the landing, he paused. ‘I’ve got a spare room if you want…’

  Her eyes took in t
he doors leading off the landing, resting on the one at the end, soft light escaping through the half-open door.

  ‘Were you expecting me?’

  ‘No.’

  It sounded very unconvincing.

  ‘What if I took you at your word about the spare room?’ she asked.

  ‘I hope you don’t because, you know what? I might have to ignore you,’ he answered, carrying her to the end of the landing and nudging open his bedroom door. ‘Because every day and every night since I saw you on that hillside I have wanted to take you to bed. But since I promised this could be a no-strings day, if you still want it to stay that way, just say the word.’

  ‘Will,’ she murmured as he put her gently down on her feet in his bedroom, ‘don’t be so…’ He stopped her mid-phrase with a kiss. While he deepened it with his tongue, she slipped the jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall on to the floor. The bow tie followed, a rustle of silk against the collar. Her fingers were fumbling at the buttons of his shirt in her haste to get at his body. She hauled out his shirt then dragged the sleeves down his arms, almost ripping off the cuffs. She wanted him—wanted him so badly she didn’t care what happened tomorrow.

  Then her hands moved lower, flicking open the button of his trousers, the zip slithering halfway down. Slipping her hand inside his boxer shorts, she echoed his gasp of pleasure with a moan of delight, unable to believe how hard he was.

  ‘That’s outrageous,’ he groaned as she wrapped her fingers round him.

  His hands closed on hers, gently but firmly. ‘No. Not yet.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘Very, very soon—I promise—first, there’s something that I’ve wanted to do for so long. That I’ve got to do…’ he murmured. As he held her in his arms, her legs seemed to have lost their bones and turned to unsupported flesh.

  She wanted to melt like butter and let him slice through her.

  He turned her round to face an antique, full-length mirror, and then she saw herself. She was leaning back against him, her cheeks flushed with desire, her nipples straining against her dress. She could feel him against the small of her back and what he said made her legs feel very wobbly indeed.

  ‘It’s my turn to undress you. Your turn to feel what it’s like to have nothing between you and me. No protection.’

  No protection? She’d never felt so safe or protected in her life, with those strong arms around her.

  ‘Look at yourself,’ he ordered.

  Over her shoulder she saw him, holding one hand against the small of her back so that she was pressed firmly against him. The other hovered above the zip of her dress.

  ‘I want this off right now.’

  His fingers hovered on the skin above the zip for a moment, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Then she heard the sound of the zip being drawn down agonizingly slowly. The black silk parted to reveal her naked back and the waistband of the tiniest thong she owned.

  ‘Will… Oh…’

  ‘You bad, bad girl.’

  ‘Don’t tease m—’

  He put a finger on her lips and kissed the top of her head. His hands were on her shoulders now, strong fingers sliding under the wispy straps and slipping them down. She couldn’t believe someone so big and so powerful could be so gentle. And yet, of course, it was his job to be gentle and strong. He had been on the mountain that day. As he’d dressed her hands, as he’d hurt her while he was helping her. He had been as gentle as he could, as he knew how to be.

  He was a man used to being in control and she knew that. Accepted now, the brisk tenderness that was Will. Like now, as he freed her of the tight restraint of her bodice. As he peeled the black silk from her breasts, as he took them in his hands and held their weight and let out a breath that told her exactly how beautiful he found them.

  He pressed her aching nipples against his hair-roughened chest then traced a molten arc along her shoulders and spine with his long, strong fingers. Power with sensitivity, that’s what Will had more than any man she’d ever known. It was a mind-blowing combination that was overwhelming her mind and body.

  Will truly believed the ache between his thighs couldn’t possibly get any fiercer as he caressed the slender yet ripe curves he’d dreamed of for so long.

  It could. Like hell it could.

  He felt dizzy with desire. Almost out of control, and that scared him. He thought about taking her there and then on the bedroom floor but he wanted this to last for him and for her, for the gorgeous, willing, soft, and luscious girl he was holding. The one wrapped in his arms, wearing nothing but a scrap of cream lace, a contrast with the caramel of her bare skin. Her nipples were already hard but he demanded more from her. He set to work with his mouth, circling her nipples with his tongue and oh-so-gently nipping them until she moaned aloud in pleasure.

  He had never wanted to please a woman so much—or be so selfish. He had to explore every inch of her body and to do that he had to strip her naked. Totally, utterly bare. He slipped one finger inside the waistband of the tiny lacy thong and pulled it back teasingly.

  ‘Please…’ she whispered as he kept his finger poised in the flimsy material.

  ‘Please yes, or please no?’

  ‘Yes… oh please yes…’

  Slowly, way too slowly, he inched the lace down over the lush curve of her bottom, his thumbs gliding over her skin as he slid the wispy material over her thighs to her ankles and let it lie there, brushing her feet.

  ‘Step out of it.’

  He was standing now and those dark eyes were drinking her in, a shameless appraisal that inflamed her sensitized body even more.

  ‘Well…’ she asked. ‘Are you satisfied?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. Not yet… your necklace…’ He stood behind her, gently unfastening her gold chain and placing it on the bedside table.

  ‘Now?’ she whispered.

  His voice was barely audible. ‘Not quite… your hair…’

  A fierce tide of arousal ran through her as he loosened her hair and let it fall on to her naked shoulders. Untangling it, he spread it apart over her bare shoulders, leaving embers of fire wherever he touched her skin. ‘You’re so beautiful…’ he whispered.

  ‘This isn’t fair,’ she whispered, as he pulled her into his arms again. ‘When I saw you naked, you still had your boots on.’

  ‘You’re forgetting something,’ he murmured, kissing her neck and shoulders. ‘You left your shoes behind on the yacht, and know what? You wiggle your toes when you’re turned on.’

  He knelt down at her feet, his rock-roughened hands encircling her ankles, and then sweeping over her calves and thighs in long strokes, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her. She gripped his shoulders as he reached the damp curls between her legs and touched her.

  There.

  Right there.

  On the hot sweet spot that had nagged at her, exquisitely, all evening. Increasing the buzzing intensity of desire that had her squirming every time he looked at her.

  Oh… Emma knew she was dissolving as he slid one finger inside her. The hot unstoppable rush of desire made her moan out loud.

  ‘Will… oh please, I—’

  ‘You are sensational.’

  As he knelt at her feet, his hands were holding the backs of her thighs now. His head dipping until his mouth and tongue were pushing her to new levels of sensation, an exquisite tingling, building to a peak that centered in her swollen clit and oh…

  ‘Enough… Will, I can’t stand it… please… no more.’

  No more. No more because she had to be taken now, taken to his bed and driven into with all the power he had.

  ‘I—I want you inside me.’

  ‘You’re going to get me, sweetheart. And how.’

  He swung her into his arms and carried her over to the bed. Placed her on to the silk throw, the cool silk caressing her bare skin. She lay obediently, in a pool of lamplight, wanting desperately to show him how much she wanted to be filled up, but not daring t
o. Not yet.

  She didn’t know him well enough yet, not to open up that wide—to invite him, beg him. But he must have read her mind because he was smiling down at her and urging her thighs apart with one big hand.

  ‘Wider than that, sweetheart,’ he whispered, leaning over her now, his hands either side of her head. ‘Much more than that.’

  ‘What about—’

  ‘I’ll take care of it. You stay exactly as you are.’

  Will reached over to the bedside table for a condom and ripped open the packet. As he did so, trying not to make a hash of it, he knew that it was he who needed protection from her, and not of the kind that came by the dozen. Despite his best intentions, despite everything he’d fought against for the past three months. And he didn’t care, he wanted to let go so much, to give in to his feelings for her, and damn the consequences.

  Seeing her lying there, ready and demanding, her cloud of dark hair spread against the white pillow, he couldn’t wait a moment longer to take her. He was fumbling hopelessly at his zip now—he’d waited so long…

  ‘Let me… oh please let me.’

  Her hands were wrenching frantically at his zip and tugging at his trousers and shorts. He kicked them off and finally, he gave her a close-up view of what she’d only glimpsed before. The hot, hard length of him.

  ‘Emma… sweetheart…’

  He buried himself within her with one slow, powerful thrust. It had been awhile for her. He could tell that, as she gasped at the pressure and he didn’t want to hurt her but knew he was massively turned on.

  ‘Sweetheart?’ His voice was low, barely a whisper. Asking a question, to which the answer was irrelevant. There was no going back now. He needed this like nothing he’d ever needed before.

  Small, determined hands grasped his buttocks, stung him with her nails, and urged him in deeper. He thrust again with much greater force and felt the rope holding him back, keeping him on the edge, fraying. She began to convulse around him in waves of exquisite, clamping pressure. Her fingers were digging into the flesh on his back but he barely noticed. He could barely see or hear anything, only feel her contracting impossibly around him. Gripping him like a dark, velvet vice.