The Miss Education of Dr. Exeter (26 page)

“Good God, Mia.” He kept it slow, and with each withdrawal, he pulled out enough to rub her swollen nub with the tip of his cock. He pressed his fingers into the flesh of her buttocks and brought himself deeper inside. His thrusts became rapid and violent as her trembling grew stronger until she responded with her blissful cry and shudder of release. “Oh . . . Asa.” All she had to do was whisper his birth name, and his seed exploded into the depths of her body.

Exeter did not speak as he gasped for breath and chastised himself. He had become so highly aroused that he had not curtailed his behavior. He held her, clung to her, for he feared he had hurt her. She was not ready, yet, for such rough sex. Finally he managed an apology. “I’m so sorry. Are you well enough, Mia?”

“You must not treat me as though I am a piece of Royal Doulton china—brittle and easily broken,” she chided.

He swept a few locks of hair over her shoulders and held her face in the palms of his hands. “No, you are brave and strong, and might I say so very delicious?”

“I came to pleasure with you inside me.” Her chest rose and fell in soft slow intervals. Her nipples were relaxed, opalescent rose in color, and her skin glistened with the sheen of
lumière de l’amour.
He sometimes felt like he could drown himself in her body. He lifted a finger to the tip of her breast and watched it ruche in response to his circling.

There had been a kind of savage intimacy to their mating that felt as if their very souls had participated in a deep and profound intercourse. As it was, this night was to last in both their memories for a very long time, perhaps forever.

M
IA SWAYED
as the hansom made a sharp turn onto the quay. Finally. She was to be away from England—and Exeter. She’d left London by train yesterday, accompanied by Mr. Tandi and a mountain of luggage. Their train had arrived in Southampton in time for a late supper. She hadn’t slept particularly well; in fact, she’d tossed and turned most of the night. Troubling dreams had plagued her—Exeter chasing her through misty passageways. A hint of warm breath on her neck as she hid in the dark. Fear shuddered through her body as she turned to find Prospero standing behind her wearing that enigmatic half smile.

Twice she had been jolted awake, gasping for air, icy cold and trembling.

Shortly after breakfast, Mr. Tandi had informed her of a delay in departure. She’d spent most of the day pacing in her room. Finally, by late afternoon, word came the
SS Teutonic
was ready to board guests.

She’d left a rather hasty note for Exeter, who had attended a lecture at the Royal Society of Medicine and was expected to dine out with a colleague. It was better this way. No awkward good-byes, and no tears. Mia dipped her head for a better look at the sleek ocean liner. The cross-Atlantic voyage would take four days. They would arrive in New York, where she would have a brief visit, and then it was on to Boston, to start her new life.

She and Exeter had worked out an arrangement of sorts. He would visit during winter break and she would return home in summer. He assured her that medical school was an all-consuming experience and time would pass quickly.

The hansom stopped behind a long line of cabs and carriages, passengers alighting from all of them. The pier was a scene of mass confusion—a veritable uproar of passengers and baggage handlers all attempting to board ship at once. Stepping down from the cab, she paid the driver and began her search for Mr. Tandi, who had left the hotel well ahead of departure time with their luggage. Mia craned her neck looking for a tall, African man dressed in white. She wandered through a maze of trunks and suitcases being checked with porters.

There, just ahead—a tall man dressed in . . . Mia skirted a baggage trolley for a more advantageous view. The gentleman wore a top hat and traveling coat, certainly not Mr. Tandi. But there was something familiar about . . . he turned abruptly, and Mia gasped.

Exeter? On the pier in Southampton. Standing beside a pile of luggage and instrument cases. He spied her almost immediately and smiled from ear to ear—the rare grin that caused a dimple with a deep crease. The one that made her heart flutter.

Mia approached him slowly. “So, you missed me.”

Exeter tilted his head slightly. “Did you know in French you don’t really say, ‘I miss you.’
Tu me manques
means, quite literally, ‘you are missing from me.’ ”

She nodded. “’Tis how it feels.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her in public. In front of all the passengers crowding the terminal and boarding the ship. And this was not a chaste public kiss—if there ever could be such a thing. This was a bedroom kiss, and she was flushed and breathless when he finished. “You are missing from me,” he whispered.

Mia took a closer look at the stack of luggage and instrument cases surrounding them. “Does this mean you have changed your mind about living in Boston?”

“Rather apparent, I’d say.”

“And what of your work in the Outremer?” she queried, arching a brow.

“Tim Noggy assures me there will soon be a portal in Boston proper.” He continued to hold her close. “Mia, would you consider marrying me, on board ship, in approximately”—Exeter slipped his pocket watch from his waistcoat—“four hours’ time?”

She stared, slightly openmouthed. “I had quite given up hope on this matter, Doctor Exeter. But it seems you have finally succeeded in collaring me.”

His eyes crinkled, but he kept his tone solicitous. “I may have captured you, but I will spend my lifetime trying to tame you.”

A tug on his lapels brought him close enough to kiss. “There are certain attributes we wish to remain animal and passionate—do we not?”

If you enjoyed
THE MISS EDUCATION OF DR. EXETER,
learn how Phaeton Black and America Jones first met in

A Brava trade paperback on sale now.

 

 

Turn the page for a special excerpt . . .