Sexual Hunger

by Melissa MacNeal

  Jason got swallowed up in her gaze. Felt the shift of focus and strength, as though the scales now tipped in her favor. “You’ll no longer need the income, if you marry—”

  “Money has nothing to do with it! Sometimes your family’s money feels like a cumbersome load—although I understand why you must assume your father’s title and become the man of this family.” She smiled resolutely. “Lord knows you don’t need me for that. You’d have a smoother row to hoe if Maria Palladino weren’t a constant reminder to your mother of how you lowered yourself to—”

  “I never said that!”

  “Then be the man who’s proud of my accomplishments!” she challenged. “Be the husband who loves me more than his mother or his title—and who will inform his twin of the change in our arrangement! The Jason Darington I love would do that!”

  Damn. She had indeed turned the tables. Would he be more the man if he insisted on his own way? And what would he gain if Maria lost her spirit? The career she’d come to love?

  Look at her face and find your answer. She’s made up her mind.

  Jason cleared his throat. “What makes you so sure the Inquirer editor will have you back? It sounds like Quentin cooked your goose.”

  The solution to that quandary popped into her mind so fast, Maria grinned proudly. “He won’t want Miss Crimson taking her audience to the National Advocate, will he? I might even demand a raise in pay if I stay!”

  “As well you should!” He laughed in spite of the tension her single, circling finger caused him, the misery she inflicted with her flirtatious intelligence. “Your column helped locate me and announced my return, after all. It should be apparent to that editor how many strings you pull, how you remain aware of noteworthy situations yet remain invisible. Uninfluenced by those who would pay you to present their stories in a more favorable light, perhaps.”

  Maria considered this. She stopped drawing the circle and pressed her palm to Jason’s solid chest. When his heartbeat assumed the light, steady rhythm of her own, she smiled. “You could be my partner, Jason. Your political clout and business associations could open a whole new avenue of social awareness that goes far beyond the soirees and teas Miss Crimson usually covers!”

  Her excitement grabbed him—and then she did. Maria’s hand closed around his balls and her gaze didn’t waver. “But we must not reveal this to anyone!” she insisted. “Before Quentin stumbled upon my secret identity, Rubio was the only one who knew how I earned my rent—but then, my brother has otherworldly powers at his disposal.”

  “You think I can’t transport you to another world, Maria?”

  She sucked in her breath. Her bottomless brown eyes drank him in, and it was much more than the way he had hardened in her hand: he had played her game and then turned the tables. To make his point, he cupped her breasts, gazing relentlessly into her eyes. Demanding an answer.

  “Make it worth my while to love only you, Jason. Prove that I’ll no longer miss the man I can’t have.”

  In one swift movement, he swept her into his arms. He tossed her onto her bed, and then yanked open the drawer of her nightstand. “If I have to bind you to the bed…fuck you to Kingdom Come,” he rasped, “you will never be tempted to ball my brother again! You won’t have the strength! Or the opportunity!” He deftly thrust her arms above her head and then wrapped the silk straps around her wrists. Seconds later she was tied to the bedpost.

  Maria squirmed, resisting him. “What if one man’s not enough? What if—what if I want you and Johnny Conn?”

  “The pirate?” In the blink of his tawny eyes the transformation took place. “It’s the discipline o’ the ship yer wantin’, is it? The way all who calls me captain must obey me every whim and demand?”

  “Says who?” she countered saucily. “You might be in command of your ship, Conn, but I—Miss Crimson!—set the course for London’s morning! Thousands reach for their newspapers to hang on my every word!”

  “Well, goody fer you! Hang on this!” He stepped out of his pants and then sprang to the mattress to straddle her. “Wot ye see is wot ye get, missy! Can a mere writer like yerself handle all of it?”

  Maria snickered. His long, lovely cock pointed at her as he unbuttoned his shirt. Gone were all signs that Jason had doubts—or would let his family interfere in their marriage. And who needed Lady Daringon or her other children? She had a man in her bed who was ready to play the game she loved best. And he’d called her a writer! “My pen is mightier than your sword, sir!” she quipped.

  “Har! My tongue’ll have you singin’ a different hymn, missy!” Jason pivoted to plant his face between her legs, which he’d spread with his hands. At the first moist, warm probe of his tongue, Maria cried out. She writhed so hard the bed scraped the floor. Fueled by her response, the pirate rocked on his knees to give his licking more energy—and to kick up a suggestive racket that made them both laugh.

  Maria couldn’t hold still. With her hands bound, her only recourse was to squirm and kick and buck, so Jason complied by delving deeper inside her with his thrusting tongue. His muscled backside flexed, inches in front of her face, and his bobbing balls and cock made her strain to catch them in her mouth. “Damn you, Conn! Let me play, too!”

  “Aarrgh! It’s me wot’s callin’ the shots now, wicked wench,” he growled from between her legs. “Ye’ll just have to suffer! Or beg fer mercy!”

  “I’m finished begging!” she rasped as he plunged into her slit again. “I’m demanding! I’m ordering you to plunder and pillage, pirate. Miss Crimson has her pick of dozens of—oh, Jesus! Jason!”

  He’d slipped a finger, then two, into her aching hole while he tickled her clit with the tip of his tongue. Maria nearly flew to the ceiling, the sensations felt so intense. She writhed, mindless, beneath his relentless teasing, until her body bucked of its own accord. “Oh…oh! Please, Jason, don’t—”

  “Is that the sound o’ beggin’ I hear?”

  “—don’t you dare stop!” she finished hoarsely. “Turn around and finish me the way you want to, Conn! If you make me come now, I’ll not be offering any consolation prizes.”

  “Har! Yer a prize if ye think I’m fallin’ fer that weak-kneed excuse!” One last time he wiggled his tongue in her slit and then licked it from end to end, ever so lightly, to drive her insane. He so loved it when she lost control…even though Maria Palladino would always know exactly how to pull his strings. And he could live with that—if she would live with him.

  She was panting for it now, nearly convulsing. Jason knew her sweet body so intimately, he lithely switched his position. “Look at me when I’m fuckin’ ye,” he commanded in a guttural voice. “I wanna watch yer eyes pop outta yer head when Blackbeard takes ye prisoner. It’s my name yer gonna be screamin’ fer the rest o’ yer days, wench. Savvy?”

  Maria gawked at him, too far gone to protest. Her hips arched to capture the prize he dangled just above them—a fine, feisty sight from this angle, too. “Dip your pen in my well, sir, or there’ll be no ink to sign that marriage certificate. And then you’ll miss me! Savvy?”

  “Aarghhhhh! Ye drive a hard bargain, wench.”

  “You drive a pretty hard”—Maria locked her legs around his hips—“bargain yourself, Lord Darington.”

  Jason inhaled fiercely. His eyes devoured her and his breath came in accelerating gasps. With his chestnut hair flying wildly around his ears and his lips glistening with her dew, he looked so randy, so ready. He smelled of her sex and his own male need. Maria knew she’d agree to anything if he’d look at her this way for the rest of her life.

  “Take me, Jason,” she whispered desperately. “I never wanted to leave, you know.”

  With a grimace of victory he lost himself inside her. So warm and wet and tight she was, he nearly climaxed with his first thrust. Many times he’d played with Maria this way, but this time his hunger went far beyond her bed and body: he wanted her mind and soul now, too. He eased into a quick but controlled rhythm, rocking hig
h and hard against her. “Get ready.”

  “Eyes wide,” she countered, matching her thrusts to his. “We’re entering into this bargain looking straight at each other. No one else.”

  “Just the four of us,” he grunted. “You and me, Crimson and Conn.”

  He convulsed and Maria sucked air to keep from screaming. She reveled in the power and beauty of the man who was making her his woman, on her terms. Then she surrendered to the spasms that quaked inside her. “You and me,” she rasped. “Crimson and Conn.”

  34

  “Mother. Everyone,” Jason said with a nod to all at the dining room table. “Maria and I have come to terms. We will set a new wedding date when—”

  “Terms?” Lady Darington arched an eyebrow. “We left the parlor, fearing the bed would come through the ceiling. Which tells me you gave in to your animal urges and let her lead you by the—”

  “Something other than his nose,” Jude said under his breath. Rubio choked on a laugh while Jemma rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. Seated beside Dora, Yosef Polinsky watched them closely. Perhaps savoring his own secret.

  Jason held her hand in the crook of his arm, smiling confidently at her. “Maria has agreed to be my wife—again,” he said with a fleeting glance at his brother. “And she will cleave to me, forsaking all others, as we will vow before God and everyone at the ceremony.”

  “What a novel idea! Jude is so happy for you—aren’t you, son?” Lady Darington rose from her chair with a sly smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Yosef and I have notes to write. We’re going to Wildwood where we won’t be disturbed by lewd noises.”

  The steely-haired medium nodded to them, picked up the small wooden chest, and escorted Pandora from the room. Their whispers and sly laughter floated behind them, and then the dining room went silent. All that remained on the tea tray were crumbs and their dirty cups.

  “My best wishes to both of you,” Rubio finally offered. He stood to kiss Maria and shake Jason’s hand. “Order is restored. All’s well that’s ending well, as I’d predicted. And we have a bit of news ourselves.”

  Maria observed each of them carefully: Jemma cradled Willie on her shoulder, lost in her bitter thoughts; Jude stood, stuffing his hands in his pockets, concealing the dejection she’d expected. Her heart went out to him, but it belonged completely to Jason now. In time, she hoped to convince Jude he deserved a woman who could give herself to him completely, but he’d endured all he could handle for one day.

  “I might as well be going,” he murmured.

  “One other point to make, now that Polinsky’s gone.” Jason smiled. “Quentin and Mrs. Booth? You might as well join us, as this concerns you, too.”

  The two servants came from behind the folding Chinese screen that concealed the entry to the kitchen. “My congratulations to you,” the housekeeper chirped. “Not that any of us are surprised.”

  “Not at all,” the young butler agreed. “But I’m still sorry I made a mess of—”

  Jason held up his hand. “Miss Crimson and I have put our heads together—”

  Jemma groaned dramatically.

  “—and we agree she is to pursue her career—anonymously, as before,” Jason insisted. “We have even discussed broadening her—”

  “There’s a baby? That was quick!” Mrs. Booth quipped.

  “—horizons to cover other segments of society with her razor wit, and to publish serializations of novels,” Jason announced proudly. “Her column in the Inquirer is only the beginning! Miss Crimson has much bigger fish to fry!”

  “Is that what I smell?” Jemma remarked. When she saw Quentin was gazing at her, however, she straightened her shoulders and thrust out her small breasts.

  “Better and better, as I predicted,” Rubio said with a nod. “And you two should know that Dora and Yosef have come to terms, as well. He has asked her to help him write apologies and return the various pieces of jewelry he kept as mementos from his…previous conquests. Dora will then have the pleasure of setting fire to his address book.”

  “I suggested she allow a cooling-off period,” Jude remarked with a resigned laugh. “But you know how Mum responds when others tell her what to do.”

  “She does what she damn well wants to,” Jemma replied tartly. “I swear to God if I have to remain in that house, with so much kissing and giggling and squealing, I’ll absolutely vomit on them!”

  Quentin, who had sidled nearer to her—probably to peer down her cleavage—looked suddenly stricken. “Perhaps the answer is to go elsewhere, Miss Darington,” he suggested quietly. “I’m sure your mother and Polinsky would prefer it.”

  Jemma considered this, then flashed him a coquettish grin. “And would you prefer it, Quentin? I’ve always valued the advice of…older, more experienced men.”

  “Saints preserve us, “Mrs. Booth muttered. As she spun around to return to the kitchen, the young butler bowed.

  “I’m here to serve, Miss Darington.”

  When Quentin, too, retired from the dining room, Rubio chuckled. He stretched like a languid cat, making the moon-and-stars print of his shirt shimmer in the light from the chandelier. “It’s so gratifying when my predictions come to pass—right, dear sister? Sexual ecstasy and joy, juxtaposed with excruciating pain. Deception, yet revelation,” he mused fondly. “A journey into the unknown for all of us. And once the unknown becomes the known, we begin afresh.”

  The medium slung his arm around Jude. “Would you care to stop by my apartment above the Bentleys’ dress shop? You and Jemma can stay the night there—but meanwhile, the new moon’s calling me to pop a cork and consider my next journey. And perhaps yours, my friend.”

  Rubio waved good-bye to Jason and blew Maria a kiss. When he grinned at Jemma, beckoning her with his eyes, the gold ring in his nose glimmered like a promise. “There’s a pub down the way, where artists and writers and dancers go to tip a pint. A fine, feisty crowd—and several of them are women! I think you’ll…”

  Maria laughed softly as the front door closed behind the three of them. “Well, milord, that leaves just you and me here at the town house—”

  “Home. Where we belong.” Jason reached into his pocket and pulled out the jeweled pendant. He fastened its clasp behind her neck, and then gently positioned the butterfly above her collarbone. “Just the four of us. You and me—”

  “With Crimson and Conn,” Maria whispered. “Sounds like the perfect blend of fantasy and reality, doesn’t it?”

  Jason kissed her, and she had all the answer she’d ever need.

  APHRODISIA BOOKS are published by

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  Copyright © 2010 by Melissa MacNeal

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  ISBN: 978-0-7582-6260-8