Yes, she was leaving her prison behind. And he wanted to be a part of that. Slowly, deliberately, he stroked his fingers through her slick folds.
She gasped, her head dropping back, exposing the pale line of her throat. He kissed it, but he did not stop stroking. She began to rock naturally, her hips going in a motion as old as time, aided by the coach, as she searched for her pleasure.
But this time he wanted them to be together.
He undid the buttons of his breaches. Quickly, he freed his eager cock, then positioned her over him.
She gazed down at him again, stunned, and he waited, wondering if she would take the initiative herself or if he would have to thrust up.
He should have known her better.
She took one long look at him and then lowered herself on his shaft. And with that, she let pleasure take them. She began to rock and tilt her hips back and forth, faster and faster until he thought he was going to lose his soul in her.
The pleasure kept tossing him higher and higher into a place he’d never known, one that he was certain no adventurer had ever seen.
And just as he feared he could control himself no more, she let out a cry of pleasure which she muffled by biting down on the back of her hand.
And he too, witnessing the intensity of her peak, felt himself beginning to come within her.
Desperate, he grabbed her hips to pull her off him, and he shuddered, pumping and coming into his hand.
A ragged breath shook him as he began to come back to himself.
He needed to be more careful. He’d been careful so far. But that had been too close.
He was playing a dangerous game if he allowed himself to stay too long. And he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Because they did not wish for the consequences that could come from such a thing.
Garret took out his handkerchief and quickly cleaned them.
When he was finished, he studied her face. She was beautiful, but that beauty? It wasn’t what drew him to her.
She studied him in turn. “That was remarkable,” she whispered.
“Yes,” he agreed without reserve.
And he wondered if she knew how remarkable it was. Because he had felt as if he had been joined, as if he had met his match.
Which was, of course, completely unwanted and completely absurd.
The coach pulled up before the ball, and Garret found himself completely undone.
Not in the physical sense, thank God, but the spiritual one.
The truth was that Lady Catherine had stormed into his home like the proverbial bull in a china shop and turned his life upside down.
He was at a loss.
For she was fast outpacing him as a teacher, in what he was learning and discovering about himself and what he was still capable of feeling.
She was a remarkable individual, and her willingness to throw herself headlong at her freedom was an inspiring thing. Oh, some people might call her a sinner and wish to cast her out. Some of his class, the more puritanical set, would say she was ready for Bedlam, but not he.
Oh no. He thought that she should be put in charge of the government. Her tenacity was so full that he marveled at her. And when he climbed out of the coach and extended his palm to her, there was a part of him that wanted to haul her back inside the conveyance, take her home, and not share her with a single soul.
No, that tenacity, that drive, that desire to be her own person? He did not wish to share it with anyone.
He wished to bask in it, to worship it, to tell her to go further, harder, do more. But she could not do that if he kept her to himself. Her freedom would lie in his introducing her to people who could give her money, give her power, give her houses, land, and political persuasion.
For he was no fool.