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Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

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BOOK: A Season Beyond a Kiss
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His smoldering eyes roamed her as he continued his pleasurable assault, but now with more dedication. Staking his claim upon her, he swept his hand down over her breasts, the slender waist and skimmed downward along the outside of her legs before moving upward again, this time along the inside of her creamy thighs. She started slightly at his intrusion, and then her breath caught at the sensations he created within her as his fingers began to ply her flesh. It was as if she were being jolted by liquid fire, waves of it pouring upward through her senses, setting her whole being aflame. She began to writhe and pant and in some embarrassment over what she was experiencing, she tried to turn aside, but Jeff pressed her down, unwilling to desist until she was truly his. His invasion proved a heady forage indeed, driving her into a kind of frenzy as he delved upward with strengthening dedication. Stroking her own breasts, she arched her back and offered them to him with a kind of wanton boldness that she had never experienced before. Greedily he devoured them, heightening her excitement until she thought she couldn’t bear it.

“Please, Jeffrey.” She was incognizant of what she wanted; she only knew that his manly heat seemed to feed the fires burning in her loins. Slipping a hand behind his neck, she pulled his head near and kissed him with all the passion he had awakened within her. Locked together in a fierce embrace, they rolled upon the bed, their thighs entwined, their tongues playing in the sultry heat of each others’ mouths, their hands boldly searching out the private places.

Caught up in the headiness of their passion, Raelynn slid a trembling hand over her husband’s firmly muscled chest, moving it past his waist and along the thin line of hair that traced downward over his taut belly. Beneath her wandering inspection, Jeff held his breath as he awaited that moment wherein she would touch him. Her fingers traced the manly flesh timidly, seeming almost fearful of hurting him, until he covered her hand and began to instruct her. Hardly a moment passed before he felt his restraint begin to crumble.

“Oh, love, love . . . there’s no turning back now,” he breathed. His eyes melded with hers as he rose above her and searched her face for any evidence of fear or reluctance. Caught up in the growing hunger of her own desires, Raelynn lifted her hips to his in an unmistakable invitation.

Jeff’s breath wafted from him in a sigh of overwhelming relief and awe before he lowered his mouth upon hers and kissed her with tender ardor. Suddenly a burning pain pierced Raelynn’s loins, wrenching a gasp from her as the steely shaft drove home. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed against the throbbing discomfort of the rent flesh and pressed her face against the base of her husband’s neck as she dug her fingers into his shoulders. His lips sought hers again and played provocatively until she began to answer his devouring mouth and cavorting tongue.

In a moment all thoughts of pain were swept behind her and banished to the far reaches of her mind. Raelynn never knew the precise moment when he began to caress her loins with his. The slow, smooth, rhythmic thrusts seemed so effortless on his part; a long, leisured stroking that massaged the hurt away; a burgeoning excitement; exhilarating, scintillating pleasure washing through their merged bodies; senses skimming over billowing currents; quickening movements that drew her up with breathless gasps to meet his thudding hardness; waves of pulsing rapture sweeping over and through their entwined bodies; a swelling tide that lifted them up upon foaming crests; crashing breakers that seemed blindingly brilliant; and then shimmering, thrilling, unending ecstasy.

Washed up on the white beach of tousled sheets, they lay in the rosy aftermath of their passion, her head upon his shoulder, a brown hand encompassing her hip, a slender arm flung across his chest, and a sleek limb resting across his thighs. Though neither of them complained, the threat of dissolving seemed imminent.

Smiling dreamily, Raelynn traced a fingertip through the mat of hair covering her husband’s chest and sketched a male nipple as she marveled at what she had just experienced. “I think I could sleep for a whole week now,” she sighed softly. “But only if you’d consent to stay with me.”

“We’ll have to move your clothes back in here again,” Jeff breathed, pressing a kiss upon her brow. “We could even share a bath.”

Raelynn rose up upon his chest and smiled down into his shining eyes. “But I thought you already had a bath this morning.”

A slow grin stretched across his handsome lips, displaying the taut depressions in his cheeks as his hand swept down her naked back. “Aye, but I find the idea of playing with you in my bathtub quite intriguing, madam. Would you be willing to indulge me?”

Her smile was warm and inviting. “Most eagerly, sir, if you, in return, would be amenable to allowing me a few privileges.”

“As many as you want, my dear, as long as you stay within the confines of my arms.”

2
 

E
LEGANT LITTLE SHOPS ABOUNDED IN
C
HARLESTON
, proclaiming its wealth as one of the most important ports along the eastern seaboard. It was a gracious city, well maintained by its residents, and rightly known for its charming atmosphere. Its streets bustled with activity, its docks the same.

Jeff’s shipping company was located near the wharf. It, too, was a busy place with ships either being loaded or unloaded nearby and six-in-hands in the process of returning or pulling large wagons brimming with cargo to other vessels docked in different areas of the port. It was in the shipping yard where the Birmingham carriage made its first stop, allowing Jeff to drop off the recently reviewed ledgers to his bookkeeper.

“I won’t be but a moment, my sweet,” he assured his wife, squeezing her hand affectionately before stepping down from the black landau and striding toward the three-story brick building.

Raelynn watched from the window of the conveyance as her tall, nattily garbed husband made his way past workmen who called out a cheery greeting or waved to him from afar. His affable responses and ready repartees to humorous comments or teasing banter, which met him along the way, affirmed that Jeffrey Birmingham was well-liked among his employees. He even paused to speak with a man of middling years from whom he parted a moment later with a handshake and a mutual chortle as well as an enthusiastic pat on the back bestowed upon him by the brawny fellow.

Smiling in secret pleasure, Raelynn settled back against the landau’s cushioned seat to await his return, hardly begrudging the time she had been given to relish the memories they had made together earlier that morning. In the hours that had since elapsed, one truth had become strikingly clear; she was immensely satisfied, even delighted with the choice she had finally made in yielding herself to Jeffrey’s husbandly initiation into marital intimacy. What had followed their union had further solidified her belief that she had chosen wisely. Even the simple acts of bathing and dressing had proven infinitely more pleasurable with a bold, handsome participant, who was not above indulging in some frisky horseplay. Indeed, until this day in history she had remained ignorant of the attention-getting results of a linen towel being popped against a naked backside, but when she had returned the favor, she had suffered some surprise, learning very quickly that Jeff’s attack had been much more gentle and playful, for in slapping him she had left a red welt upon his buttock that had, in the making, drawn a genuine “Ouch!” from him. Her worried apologies and soothing strokes had soon led them into more kissing and fondling, which they had later deemed well worth the initial pain. In every respect Raelynn was feeling as happy and content as any young bride who was thoroughly entranced with her amorous husband.

Jeffrey Birmingham’s manly appeal was like a strong magnet, to which heretofore she had found herself being drawn closer with each passing day. In the last few hours, however, that progression had advanced by mind-staggering degrees until she was led to think that she was even more susceptible to his physical appeal and winning ways than Nell or any of the other hopefuls who had once yearned to have Jeffrey Birmingham for a husband. She had never deluded herself into believing she was the only female in Charleston or the surrounding area who had become thoroughly infatuated with the man. He was too handsome for any woman to entertain such a notion. The only difference between all the other maidens and herself was Jeff’s own preference in choosing her, and she was infinitely glad he had.

A shadow passing alongside the landau made Raelynn glance around in time to see a roughly garbed man strolling past the last window. She barely caught a glimpse of the back of his hat-covered head before he moved beyond the opening, but she had no real reason to lend the fellow further heed. Considering the fact that she was a complete stranger to most of the city’s populace, she felt no curiosity as to his identity or appearance. In the next moment she wished she had been more inquisitive. At least, if she had, she might have had time to flee the carriage and find her husband. As it was, she was without benefit of Jeffrey’s comforting presence when Olney Hyde stepped back to the window and tilted his head aslant to peer in.

“Why, if’n it ain’t Mrs. Birmin’am, all decked out like some gent’s birthday present,” the curly-haired scamp drawled, displaying a poorly contrived surprise as he dragged off his cap. No less cocky than he had been in Gustav’s presence, he swept his gaze from her pert bonnet down to the pale peach floral muslin gown covering her soft bosom, where it lingered overlong.

Raelynn was grateful her square, lace-edged neckline was demure or she might have found herself blushing even more than she was. Whereas Jeff’s perusals evoked a sensuality within her that was hard to ignore, she was highly insulted by the brazenness of this rascal’s scrutiny. Though probably as much as five years her senior, Olney seemed much younger, especially in comparison to her husband, but she hardly considered that fact a compliment. To her, he seemed the epitome of a naughty young tough, whom she really didn’t care to confront on any terms, let alone now when she had no one but an aged driver to serve as her protector. Still, she managed to gather a fair measure of bravado and gave snide retort to the scamp. “Well, Olney, I’m rather surprised to see you walking about so blatantly on the streets of Charleston. I thought you’d be skulking around in some dark, dank alleyway somewhere. Sheriff Townsend will certainly be interested in hearing that you’re still in the city. As you probably know, he has been searching high and low for you. I’ll be sure to tell him I saw you just as soon as I can.”

“Aye, ye do that, Mrs. Birmin’am, an’ whilst ye’re doin’ it, I’ll be tellin’ Mr. Fridrich how fetchin’ ye’re lookin’ nowadays, a damned sight fancier than when he last saw ye. Ye know, he really regrets my not makin’ ye a widow that night I accidenta’ly shot yer husband. He ain’t ne’er had nothin’ taken from him afore, leastwise a wench. O’ course, most o’ the ones what he’s had o’er the years ain’t been nearly as high-falutin’ or, for that matter, half as enticin’. Ye might say that losin’ ye has set his temper awry, ‘specially since he gots only one arm what’s o’ any use now.”

Raelynn scoffed at the rogue’s claim. “Accidentally, ha! From what I’ve heard from Kingston, you took deliberate aim, fully intending to kill my husband, no doubt for the purpose of appeasing your employer.”

Olney shrugged his brawny shoulders indolently. “Well, now, a bloke’s got ta peer down the sights o’ his pistol real careful-like when he only means ta crease a fella’s scalp. I’m a fair shot, that I be, but ‘ere are some things what just takes time an’ attention. I bet yer Mr. Birmin’am couldna’ve done any better if’n he’da’ve taken aim. He might’ve missed Mr. Fridrich completely if’n he’da’ve really meant ta shoot him.”

“My husband would never consider doing such a thing unless forced to defend his home or his family! He doesn’t go around shooting people simply because he takes a notion, as you seem capable of doing at the slightest provocation, Olney. As to that, I remember quite distinctly when you held a pistol to my head and threatened to do away with me if I didn’t conform to Gustav’s dictates.”

“That was only ta make ye awares o’ who was boss. Mr. Fridrich was in some kind o’ awful misery wit’ his arm an’ all, an’ ‘ere was Doc Clarence needin’ yer assistance. But no! Ye were a-jeerin’ at Mr. Fridrich like the cold-hearted bitch ye are.” He shook his head in exaggerated bemusement. “I swear, I don’t know what Mr. Fridrich sees in ye. I’ll grant ye, ye’re a winsome li’l thing wit’ a shape ta match, but as for meself, I likes women wit’ some heart . . .” his pale gray eyes danced with prurient amusement as he dropped his gaze to her soft bosom again and held his cupped hands out away from his own male breasts, “an’ melons as big an’ ripe as . . .”

“Don’t be vulgar, Olney,” Raelynn snapped, highly miffed. “It shows your lack of breeding.”

His lips twisted in a derisive smirk. “Oh, I suppose a fancy liedy like yerself would be more interested in a bloke’s breedin’ instead o’ what’s in his breeches.”

BOOK: A Season Beyond a Kiss
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