Vanessa never uttered a word or a nod of thanks, she just settled herself in the fine velvet-covered seat and, spine straight as a board, waited for her driver to take her home.
Matilda stood in the doorway and watched the carriage head for the road, then she slammed the door of her little cottage shut with such force the walls trembled.
Chapter 8
The carriage came to a halt in the shade of a grove of pine and oak trees, and Vanessa waited. Johnny opened the door and offered his hand, and she took it, stepping gracefully from the carriage and onto the ground.
It was pleasantly cool here, with a breeze coming off the water of the pond so near. She loved this place for an afternoon picnic. The trees were ancient and sheltering, the water was somehow calming, and here she was not on public display; there was no one for miles around.
Johnny collected her picnic basket and a thin collection of poetry, as well as a thick blanket he expertly snapped open and spread in the shade. Once again he took her hand, as she gracefully lowered herself to sit on the blanket. He placed the picnic basket and the book at her side.
She lifted her head to look up at him, and she smiled. He was so beautiful—tall and strong, everything a man should be. His thick black hair curled just slightly. He had magnificent blue eyes and dimples that were absolutely adorable, set in a face of even, classic features that belonged on a marble statue of a Greek god.
Vanessa prized beauty above all things; her own and that of everything around her. Her clothes, her jewelry, her home... all were things of beauty. She despised all things ugly as much, or more, than she adored things of beauty. They offended her sensibilities.
She patted the space at her side. "Sit with me, Johnny," she commanded. He obeyed, as he always did.
He smiled at her, bringing those dimples into play. Yes, there was nothing on earth as beautiful as the man who had been her lover for the past two years.
Well, almost her lover. When she leaned forward and asked it of him, whispering a husky "Kiss me," he complied. Softly at first and then harder, as if he couldn't get enough of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with everything she had, plunging her tongue into his mouth, tasting him, teasing him.
Inside, she melted. Her knees felt weak, her heart beat fast, her blood roared. Heavens, she craved this, sometimes. Yearned for the feel of Johnny's mouth on hers.
They kissed for a while, soft and then deep. Easy and then hard. Finally she took her mouth briefly from his. "Unbutton me," she demanded.
His fingers expertly unfastened the tiny pearl buttons down the front of her bodice. He did not accomplish his task too slowly, nor did he rush. By now he knew exactly what she wanted, how she liked it.
"Touch me," she whispered.
Johnny laid the pale blue fabric open and raked his hand across her flesh. His fingers were gentle, teasing, hot, as he explored her breasts lovingly. A low-burning fire flamed inside Vanessa.
He took his mouth from hers to kiss her there, his lips on her chest and then on the swell of her breasts. When he took a nipple deep into his mouth, she held his head tightly against her, wanting more. Sparks shot through her body, the fire grew quickly from her mouth to her breasts to the throbbing insistence between her legs.
Johnny laid her gently on her back and hovered above her, lavishing his attention first on one breast and then on the other. Sucking and nibbling and laving his tongue across her sensitive flesh until she could no longer think straight. She lifted her hips to press herself against the hard ridge of Johnny's manhood. His trousers and her gown came between them, and still the touch excited her beyond words. He raked the length slowly along her, moaning deep in his throat.
"Stop," she commanded in a hoarse whisper. He did. They had all afternoon, and she had no intention of being satisfied so quickly.
She
Matilda stood in the doorway and watched the carriage head for the road, then she slammed the door of her little cottage shut with such force the walls trembled.
Chapter 8
The carriage came to a halt in the shade of a grove of pine and oak trees, and Vanessa waited. Johnny opened the door and offered his hand, and she took it, stepping gracefully from the carriage and onto the ground.
It was pleasantly cool here, with a breeze coming off the water of the pond so near. She loved this place for an afternoon picnic. The trees were ancient and sheltering, the water was somehow calming, and here she was not on public display; there was no one for miles around.
Johnny collected her picnic basket and a thin collection of poetry, as well as a thick blanket he expertly snapped open and spread in the shade. Once again he took her hand, as she gracefully lowered herself to sit on the blanket. He placed the picnic basket and the book at her side.
She lifted her head to look up at him, and she smiled. He was so beautiful—tall and strong, everything a man should be. His thick black hair curled just slightly. He had magnificent blue eyes and dimples that were absolutely adorable, set in a face of even, classic features that belonged on a marble statue of a Greek god.
Vanessa prized beauty above all things; her own and that of everything around her. Her clothes, her jewelry, her home... all were things of beauty. She despised all things ugly as much, or more, than she adored things of beauty. They offended her sensibilities.
She patted the space at her side. "Sit with me, Johnny," she commanded. He obeyed, as he always did.
He smiled at her, bringing those dimples into play. Yes, there was nothing on earth as beautiful as the man who had been her lover for the past two years.
Well, almost her lover. When she leaned forward and asked it of him, whispering a husky "Kiss me," he complied. Softly at first and then harder, as if he couldn't get enough of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with everything she had, plunging her tongue into his mouth, tasting him, teasing him.
Inside, she melted. Her knees felt weak, her heart beat fast, her blood roared. Heavens, she craved this, sometimes. Yearned for the feel of Johnny's mouth on hers.
They kissed for a while, soft and then deep. Easy and then hard. Finally she took her mouth briefly from his. "Unbutton me," she demanded.
His fingers expertly unfastened the tiny pearl buttons down the front of her bodice. He did not accomplish his task too slowly, nor did he rush. By now he knew exactly what she wanted, how she liked it.
"Touch me," she whispered.
Johnny laid the pale blue fabric open and raked his hand across her flesh. His fingers were gentle, teasing, hot, as he explored her breasts lovingly. A low-burning fire flamed inside Vanessa.
He took his mouth from hers to kiss her there, his lips on her chest and then on the swell of her breasts. When he took a nipple deep into his mouth, she held his head tightly against her, wanting more. Sparks shot through her body, the fire grew quickly from her mouth to her breasts to the throbbing insistence between her legs.
Johnny laid her gently on her back and hovered above her, lavishing his attention first on one breast and then on the other. Sucking and nibbling and laving his tongue across her sensitive flesh until she could no longer think straight. She lifted her hips to press herself against the hard ridge of Johnny's manhood. His trousers and her gown came between them, and still the touch excited her beyond words. He raked the length slowly along her, moaning deep in his throat.
"Stop," she commanded in a hoarse whisper. He did. They had all afternoon, and she had no intention of being satisfied so quickly.
She
Similar Books
