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© 2006, Pepper
Espinoza Reviews For I'LL COME TO YOU BY MOONLIGHT by Pepper Espinoza No reviews posted yet. Sample Chapter For I'LL COME TO YOU BY MOONLIGHT by Pepper Espinoza Winter, 1770 Bess watched the slanted moonlight slide across the floor as she waited for the familiar sound of an approaching rider. The inn was silent, empty, like a tomb. Her father was asleep in the back. A heavy sleeper, she didn’t have to worry about him stirring. Now if he would only come. Her nightly vigils often ended in disappointment and she struggled to accept the inevitable absences, the unheeded danger, and the uncertainty of his life even as she longed to embrace him. Bess fingered the soft material of her shift, letting the hem brush against the floor. In anticipation for his arrival, she wore nothing beneath. Since the night of his first visit, when he stood beneath her window, pledging himself to her, she always dressed for him. Despite the landlord’s efforts to keep Bess hidden from sight, the highwayman spotted her, sought her, called to her and wooed her from his horse, beneath her window as the moon drifted overhead. The torrent of wind abated and she heard it; first the clatter of his horse over the cobblestones, followed by the light touch of his whip against the shutters. A familiar signal, so delicate, one could mistake it for the wind or a bird. He whistled a tune that carried through the crisp air. Her heart leapt to her throat. She didn’t hesitate to open the window to him. Her breath caught as she studied him in the moonlight. He sat high on the horse, proud in his smart clothes. His guns and knife twinkled, a jeweled reminder of how dangerous her man was. “One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize tonight…” he said, his voice as dark as the clouds above them. Bess put her hand out and wrapped her delicate fingers around his. He wore soft leather gloves to protect his fine hands, but they were strong, steady and sure. She knew from experience how gentle and clever they could be. “Don’t go. Not yet.” “I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light.” She understood the implied promise in his words. He would be back to carry her away, as prized as the gold he stole. But a part of her never truly believed he would return—a part of her always feared that each moment they spent together would be their last. She couldn’t be content to let him go. Bess leaned as far out the window as she dared, her breasts straining against the thin material of her dress. She unbraided her hair, allowing the dark tresses to cascade down. He wouldn’t be able to resist her, she knew. He lifted her hair to his mouth and inhaled deeply. “Tarry with me awhile,” she whispered. “Everybody is asleep and the road is quiet.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and seemed to be weighing his options. The clouds parted, revealing his face in the light. Sharp, handsome and thoughtful. A face that could charm, a face that could mask cruelty and evil intent with a suave smile. He looked at her with half-closed, smoky eyes. “Come down to me, my love.” Bess closed the shutters of her high window and slipped out of the room, moving like a shadow down the stairs to the backdoor. She had taken this route a thousand times before. She quietly navigated past her father’s room and descended the stairs. He met her there, lifting her onto his horse without a word. Ebony pranced as she settled her weight in front of the saddle, but didn’t make a sound. He tossed his head toward the sky and Bess caught the horse’s silky mane, holding it tightly. He held her against his body, his arm resting just below her breast, his free hand tangled in her hair again. He guided his stallion along a thin trail, deep into the purple moor. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, reveling in the night. Above the intoxicating smell of heather and the night, she caught the familiar and haunting smell of him, his journeys and his adventures. She relaxed against his solid chest, the warmth of his skin radiating through their clothes, heating her flesh. He kicked the stallion into a gallop and her hair flared out behind her, trailing wildly in the wind. She clutched the arm around her waist, but she wasn’t afraid. He wouldn’t let her fall and the horse’s feet were sure on the moor. The horse knew every rock and hole, every twist and turn in the trail. Her body vibrated with every beat of Ebony’s hooves against the ground, her blood pounded in her ears and her skin felt impossibly warm in the cool night. Even the fresh gust of wind couldn’t cool her face. Every second made her achingly aware of the man behind her, of his body, his warmth, the beat of his heart. When the inn was only a dot on the murky horizon, he dismounted. Holding his hand out, he helped her to the ground. As soon as her feet touched the soft heather, his mouth found hers. She tilted her head up to meet the kiss. The clouds parted above them as she closed her eyes with relief and elation. The first touch of his lips was always charged, like the air before a violent thunderstorm. He always made her a little tipsy. She almost couldn’t stand the intensity of her need and his hunger as the two forces of nature clashed with a single kiss. Heat flared in her breast as she wrapped her arms around him, clinging to his body as he ripped at her dress. She knew it was perilous to even talk to him. If anybody could track him down to her father’s inn, it could lead to his death. She knew she shouldn’t open her window to him, or go to him every time he called her name in the night. She knew she shouldn’t be with him, shouldn’t surrender herself to his fingers, his lips, his flesh. But she couldn’t resist him. He slid the shift past her shoulders, down her arms and goosebumps erupted on her exposed skin. Her mouth ran dry, her throat clenched, her stomach tightened and every inch of her was awake, electrified. He dipped his head and wrapped his lips around one of her nipples. She arched her back, burying her fingers in his fine, brown hair, his hat forgotten on the ground at his feet. Bess closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like to have him whenever she wanted him, to be able to reach for him and always find him waiting for her. To feel his hot mouth on her quivering body anytime, night or day, to never have to worry about somebody seeing them, somebody giving them away or betraying their secret. He released her, straightening long enough to pull his jacket off and spread it on the ground. Her shift pooled at her feet. She stepped out of it, into his waiting arms. His hands were all over her, caressing her neck, back, thighs and stomach. She worked the buttons on his pants free, her fingers numb and almost uncooperative. Her head was cloudy, her body felt far away. He lowered her to the jacket, still warm from his body. He knelt beside her and kissed her again, lifting her back off the ground and cradling her against him. She could feel a certain urgency in his kiss and she knew their time together would be short. He still had visions of gold in his head. She couldn’t stand between him and the call of that challenge, the thrill of the danger, the ultimate ecstasy of victory. She knew it, but still, she clung to him, kissed him with desperation like she wouldn’t let him go. When he broke the kiss, he gently laid her onto the ground and straddled her. She watched him watch her in the moonlight, his eyes like shadows, casting her body into darkness. He knew every inch of her, he knew her by sight and by touch, but he still gazed her like he had never seen her before. Bess did not fidget beneath his stare. She didn’t look away from him or turn her head in embarrassment. The rapt look on his face was enough to make her wet, enough to make her ache. Finally, he touched her. He ran his fingertip lightly from her neck to her thigh, skimming the skin, a delicate whisper of a touch. Her blood thrummed, pulsed, made her skin and flesh sensitive, made her slick and hot. He pushed her legs open, exposing her completely, moving his finger down her body. His knuckle brushed against the sensitive flesh between her legs and her nub quivered, waiting for his touch. Bess didn’t have to wait long. He brushed his finger against her engorged, sensitive flesh and she gasped in shocked pleasure. She thought the softest whisper of contact would consume her. Just feeling his skin against hers, against the most secret, sensitive part of her was enough to make her body tense. She could feel the moment quickly approaching as her fingers and toes dug into the damp, fragrant earth around her. Before the pleasure could shake her entire body, he pulled his hand away. Bess watched with hungry eyes as he positioned himself above her, biting her lip to keep herself from begging him. She was on the edge, tense, almost in pain and even a little afraid. But then he slid into her, filled her, stretched her, and they both sighed with the ultimate contact. She arched her back, surrendering herself to him as he moved faster and faster. The sounds of his heavy breathing and her fast, pleased whimpers rose above them, carrying across the moor on the wind. She was oblivious to the sounds, to the danger, to the wind, to the world. All she could feel was his hot flesh, his divinity, the blood that moved faster, hotter. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, moving her hips against his, encouraging him to move faster, to give her more, to give her all he had. She thought she heard him say he loved her, but that could have been the entangled sounds of wind and breath and blood. But she told him. Her hair spread around her like a blanket, the bright red ribbon resting on her milky skin, the moonlight fading in and out behind mountains of clouds, she whispered the words and her body proved her declarations as she rocked with him in the swaying grass. He kissed her, his mouth moving from her lips, down the gentle line of her jaw, to the sensitive areas of her neck. He nibbled on her skin, sucking it between his lips and teeth, responding to her moans of approval. The pleasure went directly to her head and made everything seem smoky and distant, fuzzy and out of reach, except him. She slid her fingernails down his back and he shuddered in response. She dug into his shoulders, pressing red crescents into his skin and moved her body faster and harder. A chord of satisfaction began where his mouth touched her skin. It wound around her body, wrapping around both of them, binding them together. Not even an inch separated their bodies. The chord tightened, cut off her air, blinded her, made her light-headed and finally, unable to tolerate the tension for another second, she burst. The world exploded in color and the air rattled in her chest as she fought to breathe. He held her, keeping her grounded. He kissed her, giving her his air. She felt the echoes of her pleasure in his body as he thrust into her one final time. Bess felt lethargic, her limbs were heavy, her vision blurry. But he was all business, already on his feet and looking at the road that stretched beyond them. She pushed herself to her feet, then pulled her shift on with shaking fingers. She suddenly felt very cold and she just wanted to wrap herself around him, but he was already pulling himself onto Ebony’s back. He helped her up without a word. Each second weighed heavily on her. Her body felt sated, but her mind and heart were already steeped in disappointment. The inn loomed large, her prison on a road she never traveled. She thought she would die there, waiting for him to return. He pulled Ebony up just a few feet from the back door and surprised her by dismounting and offering his hand. She took it, sliding off the horse to the ground. “Wait for me.” She nodded. “I will.” “I’ll be back by the morning, but if they press me sharply and harry me through the day, look for me by moonlight.” Bess nodded again, swallowing hard as she felt the night press in on them from all sides. He gripped her shoulders and kissed her thoroughly, his lips promising her more than his words ever could. She took his promise, holding it close to her chest, matching the fierceness of his kiss. “I’ll come to you by moonlight,” he whispered against her lips, “though Hell should bar the way.” Then he was gone. She watched him ride until he was only a blurred shadow on the horizon before she returned to her bedroom. She thought she heard something near the barn, but when she turned to look, nothing but the wind greeted her. Frowning, she scanned the area for several moments, but didn’t see anything. Finally, she slipped through the back door and glided up the stairs to her bedroom. She changed her shift before sitting by the window to watch the moon. |