With a kiss!

Charlotte was too stunned to protest as Fuller's broad mouth found hers. Unlike the fiery kisses from their first meeting these kisses were tender and inviting. She found her lips parting in response to his gentle tongue and marveled at how good it tasted. Her hands crept to his shoulders and then up into the neatly braided hair pulling him closer and pressing her torso against his muscled chest.

“What do you want?” She gasped as his mouth finally lifted from hers. Furthermore, what was she willing to give him? Dressed as she was in her sheer nightgown there was almost nothing separating her trembling body from his. Mr. Fuller must see the peaks of her nipples where they stabbed against the lace of her shift; what would she do if he decided to continue where they had left off during that first wild encounter. What could she do? A warm heat surged through her core as she contemplated what an outlaw like Black Brand might do to a scantily dressed maiden in her own bed.

“I don't know.” Fuller admitted pulling her cheek to his linen shirt and holding her tightly against his chest as he softly “I just couldn't keep away.” Charlotte should have been terrified to find the man who had ****, bound and molested her in the woods had crept into her bedchamber while she slept and was kissing her again. Instead she felt that same surge of triumph that this man found her attractive as a woman. Mr. Fuller was her father's nemesis and would surely hang if he were caught but here he was kneeling by her bed because he 'couldn't keep away'. She lifted her lips to his again and this time as they kissed she lay back down on her bed pulling him up onto her.

Fuller's weight on her chest added fire to the ache from her nipples and when his thigh crossed over hers as he lay half on and half off her bed his warm strength felt better than she had ever imagined. Just like in her collection of erotic romances this illicit tryst was so wrong for so many reasons, but as Charlotte arched her back offering her throat and breasts to the highwayman she didn't even care. For, just like the heroines of those books, if this man wanted her then she'd willingly surrender herself to him, even though it was forbidden, wicked and immoral.

Randy could not believe how eager Miss Marlton was as she squirmed and twisted under him. When she finally tore her lips from his, he thought that he had trespassed too far, but instead of pushing him away she lifted her chin and pulled his face down to the sweet-smelling skin of her neck and shoulder. Lady Charlotte's skin was even softer than he had remembered and her throat smelled of rose-scented soap; each brush of his lips or cheek released more of this intoxicating scent. Randy's initial surprise was being replaced by a hunger for this young woman's flesh. A silk ribbon laced the embroidered neck of her nightgown modestly, protecting the breasts that he remembered so well from his eyes and touch. He tugged at the ribbon until he could see the swell of her breasts in the open 'V' of the gown.

It felt like opening a present on Boxing Day morn, a lovely present wrapped in sheer cotton and tied with a bow. Randy wondered if all noblewomen were this eager to accommodate strange men who climbed into their beds in the middle of the night? It seemed unlikely, but tales of debauchery from the Lords and Ladies of the realm were all too common; after all it was in this very house that Mary had been seduced, dishonoured and impregnated. The memory of what had happened to Mary doused the flame of his passion and he pulled away from Lady Marlton's prone body with a start.

“What's wrong?” Charlotte asked, sensing the change in Mr. Fuller. Moments ago he had been peeling back the lace of her nightgown so his lips could find and devour her swollen breasts and now - Mr. Fuller was sitting upright at arms length with a cold unreadable face that was both fearsome and sad at the same time.

“Everything.” Was Fuller's brusque reply. “Is this a game to you Lady Marlton?” He asked accusingly. “My cave has been overrun, my possessions destroyed, my identity discovered and Mary is still dead.” Charlotte stared at the brooding man in confusion. "Your father hates me and everything that I stand for almost as much as I hate him. How can I be here, kissing you like this?" The wonderful heat of Mr. Fuller's kisses was suddenly replaced with a cold emptiness. Her pride returned suddenly fortifying her faltering morality. If she couldn't have Mr. Fuller's desire and respect, she could at least regain her dignity, but was that what she really wanted?