her sex throbbing and wet. She was vaguely aware of his body becoming rigid above her, his manhood buried to the hilt in her sex. He shuddered in her arms, his hips making little involuntary thrusts. Cara felt herself filled with his warm seed – never had anything been so good.
After a moment, he collapsed over her. She welcomed the weight of his body, the feel of his sweat-drenched brow against her neck. His curly golden hair was damp as she wound her fingers through it, their bodies relaxing as they rode the last waves of their climax out to sea.
Chapter Eight
"You're always blushing in my presence, Lady Eliot."
Cara knew it was true. She could feel the hot flush in her cheeks. It was morning and she was lying naked on the rectory's bed. Eliot had gotten up to wash his face, but instead of coming to back to bed right away, he was standing at the foot of it, gazing at her intently. Of course, she was blushing.
"I like it when you call me that," she said.
"What? 'Lady Eliot?’"
She nodded, covering her eyes with the back of her hand and smiling.
"Well, as of last night, it is your name."
And then he pounced onto the bed, jostling her and making her laugh breathlessly. He came to lie very close to her, propping his temple on his right fist and looking down into her eyes. His left hand found one of her breasts and began to lazily caress it. His touch made her nipples harden instantly, and she could feel her desire awaken like a morning glory opening at the sun's first kiss. She sighed and stretched, arching her back up to better meet his fingers. Never had she felt so relaxed, so at ease.
And then the knock came on the rectory's door. Cara rushed to pull the covers up to her chin, and Lord Eliot flung the sheet about his waist as he called out.
"Come in!"
A second later, the door pushed open and Father Matthew's young face appeared in it. When he saw the couple in bed, he made Cara quick company in blushing.
"Umm, oh, excuse me, my Lord, my Lady," he stammered.
"It's quite alright, Father," Eliot said blithely. He folded his arms behind his head and leaned back. "Please! Come in! This is your rectory, after all."
"Oh, no, no, no!" Father Mathew replied hurriedly. Then he cleared his throat.
"Was there something you wanted to tell us?" Eliot inquired when the pause became uncomfortable. Cara had to smile. The young priest's awkward embarrassment was utterly charming.
"Erm, yes! I just wanted to inform you of the lateness of the hour. It's past eleven o'clock, sir."
"Damn!" Eliot cried, glancing out the window for confirmation. Cara did so, as well, and the angle of the sunbeams streaming in the through the glass told her that the hour was, indeed, quite late. Without further hesitation, Eliot tossed the covers aside and sprang up, lunging for his shoes and clothes, which were piled in a heap in the corner.
"I'll leave you, then!" Father Matthew squeaked, obviously shocked by his Lord's lack of modesty. When the door closed behind the young priest, Cara couldn't help the guffaw of laughter that came from her.
"What?" Eliot asked slyly. He was bending over to pull his trousers on. Cara had an excellent view of his shapely bum, and her giggling only increased. Now his face grew stern. With mock seriousness, he approached the bed, towering over her.
"What is it, you silly woman?" he asked chidingly. But she could tell that he was having trouble keeping a straight face.
"Nothing," she murmured, biting her lip to stop the laughter. "Only that...my husband has such a lovely backside. No wonder the priest was shocked!"
He leaned in and gave her a playful kiss on the mouth. Then he pecked her hard on each cheek.
"Ow!" she cried.
"Pleasure is always the better for a little pain, love," he said with rakish grin.
"I think I found that out last night," she replied, her blush intensifying. He kissed her once more – this time softly and sensuously upon the lips. Then he pulled back.
"Hurry up! We're already late
After a moment, he collapsed over her. She welcomed the weight of his body, the feel of his sweat-drenched brow against her neck. His curly golden hair was damp as she wound her fingers through it, their bodies relaxing as they rode the last waves of their climax out to sea.
Chapter Eight
"You're always blushing in my presence, Lady Eliot."
Cara knew it was true. She could feel the hot flush in her cheeks. It was morning and she was lying naked on the rectory's bed. Eliot had gotten up to wash his face, but instead of coming to back to bed right away, he was standing at the foot of it, gazing at her intently. Of course, she was blushing.
"I like it when you call me that," she said.
"What? 'Lady Eliot?’"
She nodded, covering her eyes with the back of her hand and smiling.
"Well, as of last night, it is your name."
And then he pounced onto the bed, jostling her and making her laugh breathlessly. He came to lie very close to her, propping his temple on his right fist and looking down into her eyes. His left hand found one of her breasts and began to lazily caress it. His touch made her nipples harden instantly, and she could feel her desire awaken like a morning glory opening at the sun's first kiss. She sighed and stretched, arching her back up to better meet his fingers. Never had she felt so relaxed, so at ease.
And then the knock came on the rectory's door. Cara rushed to pull the covers up to her chin, and Lord Eliot flung the sheet about his waist as he called out.
"Come in!"
A second later, the door pushed open and Father Matthew's young face appeared in it. When he saw the couple in bed, he made Cara quick company in blushing.
"Umm, oh, excuse me, my Lord, my Lady," he stammered.
"It's quite alright, Father," Eliot said blithely. He folded his arms behind his head and leaned back. "Please! Come in! This is your rectory, after all."
"Oh, no, no, no!" Father Mathew replied hurriedly. Then he cleared his throat.
"Was there something you wanted to tell us?" Eliot inquired when the pause became uncomfortable. Cara had to smile. The young priest's awkward embarrassment was utterly charming.
"Erm, yes! I just wanted to inform you of the lateness of the hour. It's past eleven o'clock, sir."
"Damn!" Eliot cried, glancing out the window for confirmation. Cara did so, as well, and the angle of the sunbeams streaming in the through the glass told her that the hour was, indeed, quite late. Without further hesitation, Eliot tossed the covers aside and sprang up, lunging for his shoes and clothes, which were piled in a heap in the corner.
"I'll leave you, then!" Father Matthew squeaked, obviously shocked by his Lord's lack of modesty. When the door closed behind the young priest, Cara couldn't help the guffaw of laughter that came from her.
"What?" Eliot asked slyly. He was bending over to pull his trousers on. Cara had an excellent view of his shapely bum, and her giggling only increased. Now his face grew stern. With mock seriousness, he approached the bed, towering over her.
"What is it, you silly woman?" he asked chidingly. But she could tell that he was having trouble keeping a straight face.
"Nothing," she murmured, biting her lip to stop the laughter. "Only that...my husband has such a lovely backside. No wonder the priest was shocked!"
He leaned in and gave her a playful kiss on the mouth. Then he pecked her hard on each cheek.
"Ow!" she cried.
"Pleasure is always the better for a little pain, love," he said with rakish grin.
"I think I found that out last night," she replied, her blush intensifying. He kissed her once more – this time softly and sensuously upon the lips. Then he pulled back.
"Hurry up! We're already late
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