Tall, Dark... Collection. Carole Mortimer

arousal moved restlessly against her as he strained to draw Jane even closer.

      There were too many clothes between them. Too many layers of fabric between Jane’s body and his own. Between the feel, the sensation, of her silken nakedness pressed against his.

      Hawk groaned low in his throat as her own actions seemed to echo his need, her hands trailing down his throat to splay against his chest as her fingers dealt deftly, quickly, with the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt before she touched his burning flesh and those fingers became entangled in the silky hair beneath.

      Her touch was too much. Jane was too much. Hawk deepened the kiss hungrily, devouringly, drinking in her sweetness as his tongue plunged hotly, ravenously, into the heat of her mouth.

      Seeking. Capturing. Claiming her for his own.

      For Jane was his.

      His.

      She belonged to this man, Jane acknowledged feverishly, clinging to his shoulders. Hawk was continuing to kiss her even as he swung her up into his arms to carry her across to a chaise, laying her gently down upon it before quickly joining her there, the hard length of his body pressing her down amongst the cushions as his lips and tongue continued to plunder her own.

      At that moment Jane cared for nothing else—needed nothing else but Hawk’s lips and hands upon her. She arched her back as he reached to release the fastening of her gown and slide it down the length of her body. She was wearing only her stockings and chemise now, and closed her eyes in ecstasy as she felt the caress of his tongue across her silk-covered breast before he suckled her deep inside his mouth, drawing on her greedily, hungrily, even as his tongue continued that wild caress across the hardened tip.

      But she wanted—needed—to touch him too, and slid the jacket from his shoulders, the waistcoat quickly following, then his shirt, until Jane knew the sheer pleasure of touching his naked flesh. Her fingers were caressing as they glided over the hardness of his muscled chest, tangling in the silky hair that covered him, before she touched him, Her nails scraping accidentally against one of the hardened nubs that nestled there.

      His sharply indrawn breath was enough to tell Jane that the caress gave Hawk pleasure too, making her bolder still as she touched him deliberately now, and felt him quiver, shudder in uncontrollable response.

      Before Hawk, she had never caressed a man’s naked body before, but now, as she began to experiment with what gave Hawk pleasure, Jane felt a sense of her own power over the flesh that hardened and quivered at her slightest touch.

      Hawk fell back with a gasp as he felt Jane’s hands upon him, his groan one of aching longing as he lay on his back and felt the lap of her tongue against him. Her hands were running the length of his chest now, his muscles quivering, tensing at her slightest touch. A touch that was all the more arousing because of her lack of experience or artifice.

      Hawk looked down at her in the firelight, at the play of flames against her hair as it fell free of its confining pins onto his bared chest. His hand shook slightly as he raised it to touch that brightness, his fingers tangling convulsively in its silkiness as her kisses followed the line of hair that moved from his chest down to his navel.

      He sucked in a sharp breath as he felt the experimental dip of her tongue into that sensitised well, that shy plundering sending him very close to losing complete control.

      Jane raised her head to look at him, eyes dark with her own arousal. ‘Did I hurt you…?’

      His short bark of laughter was self-derisive as he moved so that she now lay beneath him. ‘Jane, if you “hurt” me any more in that particular way I am not sure I will be answerable for the consequences!’

      She looked up at him quizzically. ‘You liked my touching you so intimately…?’

      Hawk grimaced. ‘I liked it too much, Jane, to let you continue.’

      ‘I do not understand…?’

      How could she? How could Jane know that just to look at her as she lay there, with her long hair spread on the cushion beneath her, her lips swollen from his kisses, wearing only her stockings and chemise, her nipples hard and pouting beneath the silky material, her curving hips and thighs turned invitingly towards him, was more than enough temptation without the added arousal of her lips and hands upon his own body?

      ‘Let me show you, Jane,’ he groaned throatily, as he slipped the slender straps of her chemise from her shoulders to bare her breasts completely and gaze down hungrily at those rosy aureoles of pleasure. ‘How do you feel when I do this, Jane?’ He bent his head to run his tongue lightly across the sensitised nipple, instantly feeling her quivering response. ‘And this?’ He bestowed the same caress upon its twin, and again felt Jane tremble. ‘And perhaps this…?’ He moved his hand to push up her chemise and bare her thighs to his slow caress, as first touching the silken curls there before moving lower.

      Her lids closed at Hawk’s first touch of her silken folds, her flesh already swollen and moist with arousal as her thighs parted to his caressing fingers.

      Hawk stroked her slowly, purposefully, circling the hardened nub but never quite touching as he allowed her to become accustomed to the intimacy of his touch, waiting until Jane arched instinctively against his hand before deepening the caress. The soft pad of his thumb then sought and found the swollen centre of her arousal before moving rhythmically against her.

      Jane, having been lost in a wondrous sea of pleasure only seconds earlier, now opened wide, incredulous eyes to look up into Hawk’s fiercely concentrating face as her pleasure intensified to fever pitch—burning, scorching, flooding her.

      She could feel her own slickness as Hawk probed gently against her with one experimental finger, felt as it entered her slowly, questioningly, before he withdrew. Only to repeat the caress, again and again, the pad of his thumb a constant caress against her, fiercely and then more gently.

      Fierce and gentle. Fierce and gentle.

      Each time Jane imagined she was about to discover that there was more—much more!—as Hawk gentled his caress and withdrew, and the ache between her thighs, at the tips of her breasts, became unbearable.

      ‘Please…’ she finally groaned achingly, wildly. ‘Please, Hawk!’ She sat up slightly against the cushions, offering her breasts in silent plea. ‘I want—I need—’

      ‘I know exactly what you need, Jane!’ he growled triumphantly, before his head swooped and his mouth claimed one aching nipple, drawing it deeply into his mouth as he suckled, tongue stroking, teeth biting. The caress of his hand was no longer in the least gentle as he thrust rhythmically inside her and felt the first of her pleasurable convulsions.

      ‘Hawk…’ Jane gasped mindlessly as pleasure both burned and filled her. ‘Hawk…!’ She fell back, her hands clenching on the chaise, as wave after wave of pleasure claimed her, beginning as a fire that raged between her thighs and spreading like an ever-increasing flame to her every extremity—licking, throbbing, consuming all in its path.

      ‘Yes, Jane. Yes!’ he groaned fiercely, before transferring his attentions to her other breast, drawing it deep into the hot cavern of his mouth as he continued to stroke her swollen flesh until Jane had experienced every last moment of wondrous pleasure.

      Incredible. Amazing. Miraculous pleasure.

      Jane fell back weakly against the cushions, never having known that such pleasure existed. Never having known that this was what happened between a man and a woman. Never guessing at the shared intimacy that resulted in such ecstasy.

      Was it always this way between a man and a woman? Had it been this way between her mother and her lover? If so, Jane could perhaps at last understand how Janette had succumbed to his seduction. As Jane had just succumbed to Hawk’s…!

      Did that make her the things Lady Sulby had accused her of being? Was she indeed a harlot and a whore?

      ‘What is it, Jane?’ Hawk demanded as he saw the shadows racing across her face—a face that seconds ago had been