“No.” She grabbed his head and pulled it back down to hers. She didn’t recognize her voice, but she didn’t care. “No. Don’t stop kissing me.”
She seized his lips, this time not waiting for him to take control with his tongue, but instead pushing her own into his mouth. She nipped at his lips, enjoying his sharp inhalation against her cheek. One of his arms wrapped around her shoulders and his free hand cupped her neck. His fingers were hot against her skin and Sara shivered at the sensation of bare skin touching bare skin. Dear heavens, if this is what happened when his hand touched her neck, what would she feel when he did more?
His fingers traced her collarbone as their tongues danced, diverting her attention from the kiss as his path slowly lowered to the swell of her bosom. Sara’s breathing, already heavy, increased; enough air didn’t seem to make it into her lungs. Mr. Grant moved away from the kiss, trailing smaller, wet ones along her cheek, shifting until his face was buried in her hair, her hands clutching his shoulders for support as waves of awareness spiraled through her body. Her breasts ached as they swelled and her nipples tightened.
He took her ear in his mouth and nibbled gently just as his hand encircled her breast, filling her chest with agonizing relief. She gasped and moaned, her fingers digging into his shoulders as her knees buckled. She pressed her forehead into his chest.
Sara stumbled when Mr. Grant suddenly jerked away from her, putting space between them. He grasped her shoulders to steady her. She stared at his chest, her body heaving in an attempt to breathe. With a trembling hand, she touched her lips and felt how swollen they were; the same hand felt for the disarray her hair had become.
She raised her eyes to his face. Mr. Grant’s eyes were narrow slits and his shoulders lifted rapidly as he sought to regain control of his own breathing.
“Wha—” she started, only to realize articulation was as slow as her breathing to recover.
He visibly swallowed. “I assured you discretion. This was not it—at least it would not be if we continued. And as—adventurous as you may have become, you deserve more than a tumble on the sofa or floor for your first time.” He released her shoulders and took several more steps away, increasing the distance between them. A lump of disappointment filled her throat at the separation, but she swallowed it away.
She nodded. “You’re all wet,” she pointed out stupidly. Indeed, every inch of where their bodies had touched was wet from her sodden dress. Her eyes widened as she saw the hardness that had been between their bodies and her eyes flew back up to his.
A gleam flared in his eyes and one side of his mouth lifted in a wicked smile. “You probably are too.”
“Excuse me?” Confused, she glanced down at her dress. “I was out in the rain; of course I am wet.”
He shook his head, the smile and gleam remaining. “Never mind. Rule number one: you must trust me.”
Sara blinked. “Does my coming here not show you that I do?”
“You came here out of lust, not trust. If this is to work, you must trust me to guide you appropriately in your sexual education. Can you do so?”
She swallowed, his blunt words startling her. She was unused to such directness and honesty. She nodded her head, refusing to speak the words.
“You must say it,” Mr. Grant instructed. “Otherwise it doesn’t mean anything.”
“I trust you.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.
He nodded brusquely. “Good. It is best you return to Ridgestone now. It is still raining; you can use my coach.”
“No thank you. I have no wish for others to know where I have been. A coach would raise questions.”
“Right.” Another brusque nod. “I will contact you in a few days when I have made the arrangements.”
Her eyes grew wide. “No, you cannot—”
“Did you not just promise to trust me?” His voice was sharp, giving her no option but to nod her acknowledgement. “Say it.”
“Yes, I did,” she answered automatically to his command.
“Then do so. I will meet you on Thursday at the tree you were reading a letter under in that awful forest maze. You remember the spot?”