Untamed Rogue, Scandalous Mistress. Bronwyn ScottЧитать онлайн книгу.
time she did cry out as he pleasured and tortured by turn. The roughness she’d anticipated came and she welcomed it. His mouth seized hers in a bruising kiss even as his body claimed hers against the rough-hewn wall.
Crispin was her only source of stability. She clung to him, feeling her body’s passion crest, feeling his own need peak alongside of hers. He shuddered his release into her shoulder moments after she gave voice to her own. She was drained, so completely sated that coherent thought eluded her. The wildness of the interlude had gone, replaced by something more peaceful.
She tried to tactfully disengage her legs, sure that even Crispin’s strength must be waning beneath the extended weight of her, but Crispin murmured a soft denial in her ear. Still buried deep in her, he carried her, carried them, to the pine-framed bed just beyond the doorway. He lowered them down on the soft blanket. She could feel his member stirring inside her, could see his body towering over her, possessive and primitive in the echoes of firelight from the other room. Her breath caught; her desire rose again.
‘This time, we’ll go slowly,’ came Crispin’s whispered promise in the firelit darkness.
Slowly or roughly, on top of her or underneath her, the night could not outlast Crispin, nor the insatiable desire he raised in her and fulfilled repeatedly until dawn when at last Aurora fell asleep, deeply and wholly sated with a pleasure beyond any she had felt before. She had to admit privately as she drifted off to sleep that when Crispin Ramsden had boasted there weren’t men like him, he just might have been right.
Crispin dozed beside Aurora, more awake than asleep, savouring the languorous peace that held him in its thrall. The intense night of love-making had left him feeling unusually complete. The concerns he’d carried throughout the day were securely tucked away at the back of his mind. His thoughts were centred on the black-haired beauty breathing softly next to him.
She had been boldness personified the prior evening, matching him relentlessly in their passionate explorations. No lover he’d ever taken had been as compelling, as beguiling. Aurora moved against him in her sleep and Crispin felt himself harden yet again at the merest touch.
Perhaps what made her so appealing was that she’d established herself as his equal thus far. Last night she had taken what she needed and given him what he needed in return without him having to ask. There had been women who’d purported to be capable of such loving, but all had fallen short when put to the test.
That test wasn’t complete, Crispin reminded himself. There was still the morning to contend with. He’d bedded women too who had no expectations of further commitment in the night, but who were suddenly struck with a need to attach themselves to him come the morning.
His gaze drifted the length of Aurora’s form, half of it under the warm plaid blanket, the other half encased only by his arm. He knew her, and knew her not. He could no more predict what Aurora Calhoun would do when she awoke than he could predict next month’s weather. The woman in his arms was a marvellous mystery. In most cases, he’d be happy to let a woman’s mysterious history lie untouched. Not so with Aurora. He found he wanted to know everything about the groom’s daughter from Curragh.
Aurora gave the semblance of waking, her body stretching against his. Crispin decided to encourage that behaviour, his curiosity getting the better of him. What would she do when she awoke? He didn’t want to wait any longer to find out. Neither did his rising member, which apparently had a mind of its own and was fairly certain what it thought Aurora’s response would be. Crispin pulled her firmly against him, letting his not-so-bashful erection greet her buttocks. He pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, his hand tenderly massaging a naked breast.
‘Good morning,’ Aurora murmured in appreciative, husky tones. She turned in his arms to face him, her hair spilling thickly around her in a morning mess of tumbled curls. He watched her study him through sleepy green eyes, the beginnings of a smile flirting on her lips. Then she tugged at him, pulling him on top of her, her legs parted, ready to take him into her. ‘I want you, but we’ll have to be quick. The horses need to be fed.’
Crispin laughed softly. ‘They can wait a few minutes more, Princess.’ He entered her, finding her slick and eager even after their night. He quickened at her welcome, his body throbbing with the intensity of his need. This coupling would indeed be swift and urgent. Such an outcome would please them both. Crispin could sense the fervent urgency in her body as well. She was impatient in her desire to achieve her ecstasy, like a child who couldn’t wait for Christmas morning. Beneath him, she cried out.
‘Almost, hold on, Princess,’ Crispin groaned, his own pleasure about to overwhelm his sensibilities. Somewhere in his passion-addled mind a distant jangle of sound registered. He crested and let his release swamp him.
With a surprising amount of haste, Aurora squirmed beneath him. ‘The horses are fine, they can wait,’ Crispin repeated.
‘I know they can,’ Aurora said tartly. ‘But the blacksmith cannot.’ She gently pushed him aside and leapt out of bed, grabbing up clothes from where they’d fallen the previous night.
Crispin rolled over and folded his arms behind his head, appreciating the view of Aurora dressing at rapid pace. She struggled into her boots and strode out of the rooms into the stable. Crispin gave full rein to the smile he’d sought to suppress. He let out a low whistle and raised his eyes to the low-beamed ceiling. He could not recall having ever been thrown over for a horse or a blacksmith before. It was quite a novel experience really. He couldn’t blame her. In her position, he would have done the same. Clearly, this was his kind of woman.
Chapter Five
Reality pierced the morning and Crispin suddenly remembered. The blacksmith wasn’t coming. The realisation served to hurry Crispin out of bed. He dressed hastily. If that wasn’t the blacksmith, then who was it in the stable yard? Recalling the conversation from the tavern made him worry for Aurora’s safety.
Crispin moved into the dim hallway between the apartment and the stable, still tucking his shirt into his breeches. If he had to make his presence known, he didn’t want to do it half-dressed and broadcast to everyone where he’d spent the night. Until then, he’d wait and watch. From his vantage point in the hall, he had a good view of Aurora in the yard.
‘Where’s Mackey?’ Aurora stood her ground, arms crossed, disgust evident in her expression. Crispin could see that Mackey had not come. Instead, he’d sent one of his assistants, a drunken lout named Ernie who still looked hung over.
‘He sent me to tell you he’s not coming. He said to give you this.’ Ernie fished a crumpled sheet of paper out of his pocket with grimy hands.
Aurora scanned the note, fighting to keep her temper in check. Mackey wasn’t just not coming today, he wasn’t coming again, ever. Well, she’d see about that.
‘Shall I tell Mr Mackey anything?’ Ernie sneered.
Aurora’s gaze hardened. ‘I’ll tell him myself. Now, get off my property.’ She turned hard on her heel and swept past the hallway where Crispin stood, not seeing him in the dim light of the passageway. She threw open the first stall door she came to and swung up bareback on the sturdy gelding. Her intentions were clear. Crispin could read her thoughts plainly. If she went cross-country, she’d beat the worthless Ernie back to the forge and get Mackey out of bed with a wake up he wouldn’t soon forget. Crispin couldn’t allow that to happen. Such an action would be more damaging than helpful.
Aurora flew out of the stables, urging the gelding to full speed. Concern spurred Crispin into motion. She had no idea what she might be riding into. She hadn’t heard the anger directed at her last night at the tavern, but he had.
Crispin flung open the door to Sheikh’s stall, not bothering to go back for a coat. ‘Come on, boy, we’ve got to stop her.’ He led the stallion into the aisle and leapt up on to the Arabian’s lean back. Aurora hadn’t taken time to tack up, so he couldn’t either.
He sighted her veering off the Dursley road and followed, pushing Sheikh