Midnight in Milton

Chapter Three

His head dropped, but even his hand covering his mouth failed to prevent a low groan of frustrated desire escaping. He looked at her again through his thick, dark lashes and Margaret wondered, not for the first time, how eyes of such an icy blue could make her feel as though her whole body was aflame.

John knew there was only one right course of action. He had to leave immediately, then return tomorrow and ask for Margaret's hand, preferably as soon as possible, but somehow he was unable to move. He had had his fun as a youth in Milton, after all there was nothing there for the younger generation to amuse themselves with except one another. As he had gotten older and taken on more responsibility with running Marlborough Mills and providing for his family, there had been no time for romance. Of course, for a successful businessman such as himself, other 'options' had been available to him, but he had too much respect for the women in his own life to take that path.

Now he stood inches away from the woman he would marry, alone in her bed chamber in the middle of the night, struggling to fight the desire for her that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Margaret, you are too much for me...and yet, at the same time I feel as though I will never have quite enough of you."

Margaret's heart was racing, her breathing quick and shallow.

"John..." she whispered, lacing her fingers through his, unsure whether to say the words she wanted to or not, for she knew she certainly shouldn't. But she didn't need to, for within a few moments she was back in his arms and his lips were on hers again, not gentle this time, but hot and demanding as their tongues met and both realised they could no longer fight was happening between them.

Even so, Margaret pulled away briefly and whispered, "John you know I wouldn't...I haven't...."

"Shhh, my love," he replied, "I know."

Her small hand slid back up John's chest, her fingers fluttering through the short dark hair at the nape of his neck as she pulled him back down for yet another kiss.

Margaret could feel the heat of John’s body radiating against her own, the dull thud of his heartbeat through the layers of fabric beneath her fingertips. She fumbled with the buttons of his coat and slid the garment from his broad shoulders, unable to quite believe her brazen actions. John’s fingertips were warm on her neck, tracing tiny, gentle circles from behind her ear down to her collarbone and across her shoulder, their mouths still joined in a lingering, passionate kiss.

She reached up to the pale gold cravat tied around his throat and he clasped both her hands in his, breaking free of their embrace to ask:

“Are you sure, my love? You know I am more than content to wait until after we marry. I…I couldn’t bear it if you were to regret our first coming together in this way.”

She raised his hands to her lips, pressing firm, warm kisses on his fingertips.

“I could never regret anything than happens as a result of our feelings for one another John.”

“Oh, Margaret,” his voice was breathless and husky as he pulled her tightly in to his arms once more. Again there was no mistaking his arousal, but this time neither of them pulled away, instead revelling in the feeling of their bodies pressed tightly against one another, his firm and muscular, hers warm and soft and faintly rose-scented from the cologne she had applied earlier in the evening.

Margaret’s fingers returned to the cravat, deftly working it free so John’s shirt opened at the neck revealing to her touch a fine dusting of dark hair. A soft moan escaped Margaret’s lips as her fingers made contact and John deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth still further with his tongue, but no less gently, before trailing soft, warm kisses down her neck, across her shoulder and along the sweeping neckline of her green silk gown.