Building passion

For a brief moment as they lay tangled in each others arms on the soft grass of the creek bank Randy considered carrying Miss Marlton to his cave and laying her on his great bed. A fine gentlewoman of her standing would expect at least that from her lovers, but as soon as the thought arrived he dismissed it. He was no gentleman caller, he was a sailor - no, an outlaw, and if Lady Marlton was expecting anything from him at all, it was more likely a quick romp in the woods than candlelight, poetry and fine wine in a lavishly decorated boudoir.

Besides, Randy admitted as he pulled aside the silk chemise and took her plump nipple between his teeth, he needed to be in her now, and even the few minutes it would take to carry her up the path and to his bed was far too long for him to wait. As it was, it was a bit of a mystery - what with her ruffled undergarments pushed down around her knees, the fine leather boots still firmly laced around her ankles and his wet trousers still uncomfortably tight around his waist - how the actual act of union was going to take place.

With his goal clearly established in his mind Randy set to work on freeing some of the obstacles between him and his prize. The fingers of his right hand were busy exploring the wet folds of her sex, but he freed his left hand long enough to work loose the waistband of his trousers and pull free his throbbing member.

Oh God, this is so wrong! The tiny part of Charlotte's mind that could still think rationally tried to assert itself, but was immediately suppressed by a surge of desire that emanated from where Black Brand's fingers were wiggling inside her. She wanted to push the coarse outlaw away, to scream out at him to stop, but she couldn't find the strength to stop him; instead she clung to his bare shoulders and pulled his face even tighter against her mounds.