Page 16 of The Hellion and the Captain (Scandals and Scores #2)

Chapter Fourteen

E mmaline knew exactly what Rhys was thinking.

That this kiss might have been what she had desired and was enough to show her what he truly wanted.

And it did, yes.

But she wanted more. And he was right about one thing – she never backed down from what she wanted, especially when she knew he wanted it just as much as she did.

“I need to show you something,” she said, stepping away from him, quirking her finger flirtatiously.

“Should I be nervous?”

“Probably,” she said, laughing.

He didn’t ask questions as she expected when she led him away from the field where they had practiced, on an angle toward her family’s home.

But that was not her destination.

Not in the least.

There was a small cottage that used to belong to the groundskeeper tucked into the trees, just on the edge of the manicured gardens. It hadn’t been used for some time, for the groundskeeper had married and now lived in Manchester and visited the property daily.

But it had a bed — that she knew. She and Lily had played in it as children, pretending it was their secret hideaway. Now and then, the servants came and freshened it up to ensure that it didn’t fall into ruin.

Something Emmaline was most glad about now.

Rhys, still holding her hand as she led him through the trees, stiffened behind her when it came into view.

“Emmaline…” he said slowly.

“Yes?”

“Where are you taking me?”

“To the gardener’s cottage.”

“And just what,” he said, “do you plan to do there?”

“You,” she said, chuckling when she heard his strangled reply.

She pushed open the door, which creaked with disuse, leading him into the small one-room cottage.

It was cozy, the only source of light the window across the room, while Emmaline planned to leave the candles unlit.

The walls were lined with old wooden planks, giving off a rustic, cabin-like feel.

A small bed took up most of the space, although the faded plaid linens were clean, inviting — and that was all that mattered at the moment.

Emmaline turned around, crooking a finger at Rhys, who scratched his beard, indecision warring on his face.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked, concern slightly filling her when he didn’t immediately respond.

“For my reasoning to return,” he said.

“Well, then,” she said, “we better get started before that happens.”

She all but pounced on him, her lips locked upon his in a searing kiss.

Despite his initial hesitation, Rhys didn’t hold back, his hands roaming over her curves, clutching the waistband of her knickerbockers as if seeking an anchor to ground him.

She wasted no time, responding by tugging at the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers.

She had his arms out of the sleeves and the shirt over his head before he even knew what was happening, and she stepped back, taking a moment to admire the fine body of the man before her.

His broad shoulders gave way to a sculpted chest covered in a light dusting of hair.

His abdominal muscles looked as though they had been painted on, and she ran her fingers through the grooves, down to the bottom where the slight trail of hair disappeared beneath his waistband.

“Emmaline,” he groaned, and she smiled wickedly before his restraint snapped.

His hands wrapped around her wrists, holding them with one hand above her head as he used the other to rip the buttons of her shirt away.

“Hey!” she protested. “You owe me a new one of those. Men’s shirts are hard to come by.”

“Oh, I’ll find you one,” he growled. “You won’t be wearing another man’s shirt again.”

She would never have thought such a possessive tone would set her every nerve ending on edge, begging for more.

He backed her up, freeing her breasts from the linen wrap, his eyes devouring her once nothing stood between them and his gaze.

“You are astonishing,” he said, before lowering his head and bringing his mouth to one nipple, scraping his teeth over it before suckling to soothe it better.

“Rhys,” she murmured, her knees nearly giving out as she gripped his head, and he backed her up then, practically throwing her onto the bed. He prowled over it toward her, before ripping open the fall of her pants and removing them from her legs in one quick swoop.

She was soon bare before him, and he smiled a satisfied grin before he hovered over her, first feasting with his eyes, before diving and tasting her himself.

She groaned, squirming beneath him as he began to explore.

His fingers held her neck and shoulders in place so she couldn’t sit up and savor him in turn, while his tongue trailed over her collarbone before returning to her nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks.

His other hand explored before his mouth did, running over her stomach, her hips, before gripping one of her thighs.

Her hips rose up to meet him, but he held her in place, teasing, making her want him with more desperation than she would have ever thought possible.

His fingers then slipped between her thighs, stroking, searching, and, finally, he used one to stroke her moist heat. She moaned his name, arching her hips in response, desperate for more.

He slid his finger out, using her wetness to coat her sensitive bud of nerves, rubbing, teasing, moving in small circles. He finally released her from his hold as he lowered his head, replacing his fingers with his mouth so that he could slide two fingers within her, stretching, filling her.

Emmaline was near to bursting, but she needed more. Needed him. She reached wildly for him, but he was too far away, and finally, she called his name and kicked him in the back with her heel to make him stop.

“Rhys!” she said. “I want you . Now. Please.”

She hated to beg, but in this case, it seemed to accomplish what she had been searching for.

She reached his erection, wrapping her hand around it, squeezing before pumping, trying not to let him see just how shocked she was, although she shouldn’t be surprised, for it only matched the thickness of the rest of his body.

She wasn’t ignorant to the possibilities between a man and woman, but her experience wasn’t as great as she made it out to be.

She had discovered naughty prints years ago, had studied them with interest and had even showed them to Lily.

After her first kiss with a son of her father’s friend, she had realized how one thing could lead to another, and while she enjoyed it, she had never allowed anything to go so far as to cause any ruin.

She hadn’t been willing to.

Until now.

His eyes locked with hers as the room filled with the sounds of their breathing and soft moans as they both neared the edge.

“I want to, Emmaline,” Rhys breathed, sweat breaking out on his brow. “I really, really do. But I… let me show you how good it can be. Let me do this for you.”

She looked at him, questioning, wondering why he didn’t accept what she was giving him.

“When the time is right,” he said, but before she could say anything else, he returned his head to where he had left off, his tongue finding her, flicking her as he filled her with his fingers, stretching her, before he crooked them and she nearly came off the bed as her hips arched up.

He reached up, taking the bud of a nipple in his hand, as he continued his ministrations, until there was so many sensations racing through Emmaline that she felt as though her soul was leaving her body, watching the two of them from above.

When she tipped over the edge, she came with a shout she was sure could be heard from the house beyond, her thighs gripping Rhys’s head until she was spent and collapsed on the bed before him.

“Oh, Rhys,” she said, her eyes still closed. “I didn’t know a man could do that.”

When she opened her eyes to look at him, he was grinning wildly. “Not every man can, Emmaline,” he said. “Only a select few of us. ”

“Come here,” she said, crooking a finger at him, but he shook his head, lifting her finger and planting a kiss on it.

“No.”

“What?” she said, insulted, sitting back. “Why not?”

“Because too many people have made you feel that it was what you could do for them. A bit of fun. I want you to see that you are special, that you deserve this.”

“But—”

He shook his head before he lifted one side of his mouth. “Not to worry. We’ll find a time to do this again.”

“We’d better,” she said, before he fell down beside her, pulling her into the crook of his arms.

“Well, Rhys?” Emmaline finally said, pushing herself up to rest her head on her hand, elbow on the bed. “Did that accomplish what you were hoping for?”

“Oh, Emmaline,” he said, shaking his head. “That accomplished many things, but losing my desire for you, as I thought could happen?” He released a low chuckle, leaning up to kiss her, his beard brushing her cheek. “I think it only fueled it.”

“So, what do we do now?” she asked, pushing him over so that she was lying on top of him, once again marvelling at the ridiculous perfection of his body. She had some experience with men but had never gone this far with one before. And now… she couldn’t wait to do it again. To do it with him again.

She couldn’t believe what she had been missing out on, but at the same time, she had a feeling it wouldn’t be like this with anyone else.

He reached up, trailing his fingers down her face, pausing on her nose. She knew exactly what he was looking at.

“My freckles,” she said, crinkling her nose. “No matter what I tried, they never faded. Finally, I just accepted that they were there to stay. ”

“I’m glad,” he said, his eyes narrowing on them. “I rather like them.”

“Do you now?” she asked, wondering what was taking so much of his concentration.

“I do,” he murmured, before finally lifting his eyes to meet hers. “Twenty-three,” he said.

“Twenty-three what?”

“Freckles,” he answered. “I had been wondering how many you had.”

She couldn’t help it, then. She began to laugh, wondering how it was possible to have met a man who seemed so perfect for her, especially in such circumstances.

She began to trace patterns on his chest, loving the feel of the bristles on it.

“What’s so funny?” he asked gruffly.

“You,” she said. “To everyone else, you come across as so… rough and grumpy. But you’re so sweet underneath.”

He lifted his head to look down at her. “No one has ever called me sweet before.”

“Well, there has to be a first time.”

“Keep that to yourself, you hear me?”

“Or else, what?” she said, looking up at him mischievously and his eyes darkened as he looked down at her.

“Or else you’ll be running more laps.”

She gasped in shock as she swatted him. “That is not what I was expecting as a punishment.”

“No?” he quirked a brow. “What did you have in mind?”

“Perhaps I’ll have to show you.”

“Perhaps,” he said, before looking to the window, where the sun began setting as evening announced its arrival. “I should probably return you home.”

“Probably,” she said, shrugging. “Is it so bad that I want to stay with you in this cabin forever? ”

“If only,” he said, slight melancholy crossing his expression.

“Is this the part where you tell me that while this was fun, we can never do this again?” she said, looking down, unable to meet his gaze, in case in it she saw his true feelings of being done with her in this way despite his words of remaining desire.

“That is what I should say,” he said, and she lifted her head to meet his eyes as hope surged in her chest. “But the truth is, I can’t wait to do this again.”

“Well, if we continue to practice, then we can also continue doing…” she waved her hand between them, “this.”

She knew that anything more than their physical joining was more than he could ever want. But she would hold onto this, for as pathetic as she felt to admit it, any opportunity to spend time with him was worthwhile to her.

“I would like that,” he said.

“Good,” she said. “I can honestly say that I have never so looked forward to practice before.”

He laughed, loud and raw, and Emmaline had never felt such peace.

They were meant for one another.

Now she just had to convince him in turn.