Capturing Cora (7 page)

Her breasts trembled along with the rest of her as his tongue tickled the edge of her folds. When he flicked lightly over the pip that was the focus of her tingling pleasure, she nearly sat upright on the bed, the sensation was so intense. Instead, she bunched the bedspread in her fists and tried to stifle the keening wail that rose from her throat. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded when he lifted his head a moment.

Bran smiled up at her from beneath the wild tangle of his fringe. She couldn’t see much of his eyes, only enough to realise they were dark with intent. His mouth pulled tight into a devilish smile. “I’ve no intention of ever stopping, but you know this is really just a little preparation for the main act.” He gave her another sly lick then made a pillow of her thigh. A moment later, his fingers replaced the flick of his tongue, brushing through her wiry golden curls and up and over her nub.

“Oh,” she gasped. He began circling with his thumb, so that it felt as though a thread were drawn tight and her very being was being bunched into that one tight spot. Just when she thought her crisis was surely about to drown her in its swell, Bran eased his fingers into the picture. One then two slipped inside her. He didn’t press too deeply, a fact that after a few strokes made her writhe all the wilder. Her body craved more, her sheath clutched at his fingers, trying to drag him in.

Surely this was it, the moment when he’d enter her. She didn’t think she’d ever be more ready than this, though the thought of such intimacy still made her tremble and her chest lock tight.

“Cora,” he sighed her name then slid upwards and covered her body. He fit himself neatly against her puss. Lord, the blessed heat of him. His cock felt satin smooth and enormous.

How could this possibly work?

“Say it, Cora. Tell me how much you want me.”

He was all tension, tendons straining like corded steel, and yet so silky against her flesh.

“Say it,” he urged, more than a little panic peppering his voice.

Damn if she wasn’t half-terrified, but this was what she’d wanted. Still wanted. She closed her eyes, and gripped the sweat-slicked muscles of his shoulders. “I want you to do this.” She spoke the words directly between his lips. “Please, come inside.”

It sounded so tart and silly, but if Bran thought her words odd, he didn’t have the breath to comment. The air whistled through his lips, while he fit their bodies neatly together in one smooth push.

Oh, my!
A shocked gasp forced its way out of her mouth. He was... Dear lord, could she tolerate it? He was inside of her, and she couldn’t keep still.

Cora knew every part of him in that moment, the shape of him, the contours, the way he was forcing her to make room for his cock. And jolting inside her as the walls of her sheath clung to him.

It felt strange… and oh, her body began to relax, and the push wasn’t so fierce, but rather more of a glide, and she wanted more of him and deeper. As deep as he could go, even though there was an edge of pain to the process. “More,” she whimpered, when he held back after one of her more voluble gasps.

“Are you sure? I’m not hurting you, am I?” He lifted his weight from her, so that his hands lay braced either side of her shoulders.

“Only a very tiny amount.”

His face clouded immediately.

“But I like it. I want you to continue,” she immediately added. No, she most definitely wasn’t going to let him stop.

“All right, Cora. But I’d like you to know how much this is killing me.” A trickle of sweat rolled down the side of his temples, and for the first time she noticed the front of his hair was wet. “You’re so tight. You’re gripping me. It’s so hard not to just push. Don’t move, now, not an inch.”

She held herself impossibly still, while peering down through the gap between their bodies so that she could see where his flesh locked with hers. How intimate. What a glorious sight. But she wanted him to move.

“Gad,” he whistled. “I said not an inch.”

“But Bran, I want you deeper.”

He made a sort of croaking sound and then sank down onto her, crushing her in his grip, before rolling them over so that he lay on his back with her astride his hips. “Right, now you can control it.” He gave her a little push, so that she sat above him rather than being cuddled up close. “But slowly. Slow and steady, all right.”

Slow and steady
, she repeated in her head. As if she were about to rush such a thing. There was still a borderline twinge of pain if she pushed too far in a certain direction, but then after a few strokes a sort of numbness dulled the edge of that, and things became altogether far more slick and pleasurable.

Bran reached out to her and started making circles around her nub, which brought a double layer of heat to her cheeks. His touch was so intimate, and he surely could feel the very point where they were joined. Her insides began to flutter at the notion of reaching down and touching that point herself.

Instead, she stroked the coarse patch of hair upon his chest. Every part of his body was so new and unfamiliar. His irises were all smoke-coloured now, and far brighter than they’d been earlier in the night.

“Damn,” he said when she tweaked hard upon one of his tiny yet robust nipples. The word was a soft explosion unto its self. “You don’t know how damn sweet…” He closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose before looking up at her again. “How desperately I really want to fuck.”

She might not understand precisely, but she did recognise the tension eating up his body, so that every muscle seemed locked tight, apart from the one connecting them, which bowed and flexed. And she could only assume, since they were already bound, that he meant to take things up a pace.

“I’ve got to,” he said, thrusting up so that he raised his hips and then slapped them back down. “Just got to.”

The shock of the furious motion sent Cora reeling. She fell head first into a blissful squall. Her limbs twitched. She had no control over the motion, none at all. Each part of her seemed independent of the rest, though all dancing to the same impossible, pounding, thumping beat.

Bran’s beat.

Bran’s fingers, his hips, were the controlling forces as he ushered her along to a blinding climax. Already the spring coiled within her abdomen was wound overly tight. When Bran thrust harder, it seemed to unwind all at once.

Cora collapsed into a long shuddering madness from which there was no escape. She’d never felt anything like it, not even during her earlier peak. Having him deep inside her, still sliding back and forth with a momentum that made their bodies slap together so loudly it was surely audible in the corridor, made the moment all the more intense.

Her muscles fluttered and flexed. The bedstead groaned beneath them. Cora hid her face against Bran’s neck, all the while aware of the rapidity of his pulse. He held himself tight and still as his cock made what turned out to be its final pulse.

In the quiet that followed, she lay very still, hardly daring to breathe. Bran continued to hold her snug against his body. The sound of his heartbeat thundered in her ears. She’d never really thought beyond this point to what came next. Would he truly expect her to trip back across the hall? What did they do when Swansbrooke knocked upon the door?

Bran tilted his head towards hers, until their brows lay pressed together. “Cora Reeve, I know I’ve asked and you say that you’ve answered before, but I’m going to ask you again regardless. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

Who the hell cared what happened next? “Yes, oh yes please. I will, you wicked and delicious man, but we can’t say so yet.” She smacked a kiss down hard upon his lips to silence his questions. “I don’t want to win the bet, you see. If I do, Charlotte will never speak to either of us again.”

“Can’t have that.”

“And I do so want Harriet to win.”

Bran frowned, and then he tucked her more firmly against his shoulder. “Let’s see how long it takes for us to be caught. Until then, you have my silence, and my heart. Though, I swear I also intend to tup you at every opportunity.”

Cora nudged her elbow into his ribs. “Then we’d both best set to work on finding Harriet a husband.”

“How about Hugh?”

“Lord Swansbrooke?”

“He’s a very big heart.”

“And an even larger nose. I don’t know, Bran. Harriet is so petite, and she hasn’t really anything to offer him. Her dowry isn’t all it could be.”

Bran merely closed his eyes and smiled. “They sound like a perfect match. We’ll arrange it. When we’re not tupping, that is.” And he rolled over on top of her so that he pressed her into the mattress. “Right now, I think we need more practice. I do know how you like to be the very best at everything.”

Cora welcomed his kiss. She didn’t doubt that under Bran’s tuition, she’d excel at bedsports in no time.

Author’s Note

Thank you for reading Capturing Cora. I hope you enjoyed this introductory story to the goings on at the Rievaulx House summer house party. If you’re eager to learn about the other guests then be sure to check out the next two titles in the Romps & Rakehells series, Ménage After Midnight and Taming Taylor ~ available now. Turn the page to learn more.

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Thank you so much for reading CAPTURING CORA. Please consider leaving an honest review where you bought it so that others can discover Bran and Cora’s story.

Other Historical Erotic Romance by Madelynne Ellis

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