Leonora knew she'd wait for Justin to come home. She hadn't expected it to be so long or so fraught.
When Justin joined his regiment, and was sent to the continent, Leonora promised to wait for him to return. She didn't think it would take so long, or she'd have so many difficulties to face. Her life changes as she struggles to cope without Justin and keep his estate running.
With someone out to destroy all she holds dear, Leonora has to fight for her beliefs and her family, and hope they get the happy ever after they deserve.
"Upstairs." He put his hand to the small of her back and edged her upward. "First door on the left."
As she got to the top of the stairs her steps faltered. "Justin, what if..." Her voice petered out.
"It's too late for that, Nora." He pulled off his riding cape and dropped it over the balustrade. "No what ifs are allowed. The servants are away. Your father thinks we have gone on a farewell picnic, and mine is uncaring and in town." He chose not to mention her brother. "You've pushed me thus far, and therefore there's no backing out. When I rest on a pallet in some godforsaken billet with the reek of gunpowder and death round me, I'll think of you under me. Of my cock buried to the hilt inside your channel, and the sweet love mewls I feel sure you'll make. You will not renege." He pushed her inside the room. It took very little effort. She may plead uncertainty, but her actions belied that state of mind.
"Wait now." He undid the buttons on her cloak as he spoke. "I need to see if your bath has been made ready before the servants left."
"I have no intention of doing any such thing," Nora said. Indignation rang through her voice. "Reneging or waiting. Hell, I've waited so long, I may well be atrophied. I'll bathe after." She threw the cloak he had given her onto a chair where it teetered on the spindly back before slipping down on to the carpet. She didn't give it a second glance. "I want to be yours, Justin. To know what if feels like to have you inside me. To feel you swell and grow and spill over me." Color swept up her neck and over her face in such a way that Justin was enchanted. He was sure her breasts and belly would share that same delicate hue.
"Never let it be said I disappointed a lady." Justin ran his finger over one of her flushed cheeks, it was warm to his touch. "Take your gown off."
She looked at him as if he had two heads. In his present state of uncomfortable arousal, he would not have been surprised. His body was on fire and the only way he knew to dowse the flames was inside her. It was both torture and ecstasy to hold back and show her only a little of his desires.
"Won't you help me?" she asked in a soft voice. "Reach my ties for me?" She lifted her hair and bent her head to expose the elegant line of her neck, and the loosely tied ribbons that encircled it.
As Justin stared at her bowed head, her spine curved, and her arse rose in his direction. His cock threatened to stretch the knit of his pantaloons beyond all reasonable limits of such material. The pose she had adopted—unconsciously he assumed—pulled the flimsy material of her gown taut over the globes of her rear, and emphasized the tantalizing cleft that separated them.
"Lift your skirts, Nora, let me see what is coming to me."
She turned her head. Her expression was one of puzzlement. Good. Let me see how far I can push her in the best ways imaginable.
He nodded, and her eyes widened. "But of course, my dear. To delve deep inside that secret passage, to feel my cock enclosed and held tight within will be one pinnacle of our time together."
Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.
A lover of reading, she appreciates the history inside a book, and the chance to peek into the lives of those from years ago. Raven admits that she enjoys the research for her books almost as much as the writing; so much so, that sometimes she realizes she's strayed way past the information she needs to know, and not a paragraph has been added to her WIP.