by Emma Wildes
She shuddered in reaction, just a small, telling, involuntary tremor of pleasure. She smelled like a fresh breeze in the summer, floral and lightly teasing. His hands slipped into the mass of Jessica’s long silken hair, and he stifled the urge to sweep her into bed at once.
Long and slow, he chided himself as he kissed her neck with persuasive pressure, both out of deference to her virginity and because this was a night he wanted to savor suddenly, the wind-swept race to prevent her reckless folly all but forgotten with the intoxication of lust and passion. It was true. He’d felt a certain duty to try and protect her because of his long-time friendship with Stephen Fairman, but that now seemed somehow incidental.
She was beyond lovely, so soft and pliant in his arms, and he desired her with an urgency he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. He’d become jaded, he realized as he felt her reaction to his mouth grazing the delicate edge of her collarbone, the betraying swift intake of breath neither calculated nor feigned. And infinitely arousing.
“When did this happen?” he asked in a low whisper, his hand sliding upward to cup the full weight of an enticing breast. “One moment you are were running amuck and making your nannies pull out their hair, and now—”
“I am falling from grace with one of the most celebrated rakes in all England.”
Her comment was laced with sarcasm, but there was an odd note—something akin to despair—in her voice that made Trenton lift his head and look at her, his thumb skimming lightly over the peaked point of her nipple as he still held her breast. “Jessica, you are a woman now, not a child. What happens between us here in this bedroom has nothing to do with anyone but the two of us.”
Lush lashes flickered slightly. “But answer me this, my lord. Would I be here if you hadn’t felt compelled to interfere this evening?”
“No,” he answered honestly, sweeping her up suddenly in his arms, impatient with the slight twinge of guilt he felt for what was about to happen. “I don’t debauch proper young ladies.” His laugh was low and dark. “But you are here, sweetheart, and not nearly as proper as you should be, after all, considering your recent nefarious activities. Come, I mean to show you the open gates of paradise.”
Carrying her to the bed, he laid her down on the soft coverlet, giving her no time to roll away as he followed, covering her thoroughly so every curve and delectable inch was trapped under his larger body. His stiff cock rose in hungry, aching eagerness against the fabric of his breeches, and he grinned as he wickedly licked her lower lip. “Kiss me.”
“I—”
“Kiss me, Jess.”
She did as he requested, almost surprising him with the ardent press of her mouth, her arms around his neck pulling him in so her tongue could lightly and timidly push against his. He felt he explosion of carnal need spiral through his stomach, and he groaned, his hands sliding over satiny skin, holding her hips as he pressed closer, sexual energy pounding in his groin.
God in heaven, he felt like some foolish schoolboy, all fumbling hands and ready to explode.
Jessica gasped when his mouth left hers and closed over the very pink, very delicious nipple of her right breast, her hands grasping his shoulders. Licking lightly, swirling over the taut peak with ravishing strokes, he sucked and teased until it was puckered and tight. Shifting to the other, he did the same, her slender body twisting under his as he aroused and suckled, tasting the sweetness of her skin and expertly registering the change in both her breathing and the way her fingers threaded convulsively through his hair.
Excellent.
She had no idea of his intentions when he shifted lower, of that he was sure, that supposition confirmed when she allowed him to kiss a trail across the soft plane of her stomach, not stiffening until his mouth lightly grazed the dainty curls at the apex of her thighs. They were a dark gold, much darker than her hair, and a perfect downy triangle.
“Trenton!” It was a breath of protest.
It had been a long time since he’d bedded a virgin, but if memory served, the more aroused the woman, the less her body resisted sexual penetration. Trent splayed his fingers on the inside of her smooth thighs, pushing them wide with gentle force. “You’ll like this,” he murmured. “Trust me.”
“I don’t trust anyone,” Jessica responded, but was unable to squirm away from the firm grasp of his hands, or the inexorable lowering of his head between her legs.
Was that true, he wondered abstractly, but lost the thought as his tongue slipped across the warm, damp folds of her lusciously damp labia, tasting the sweetness of arousal with satisfaction. Her answering shudder and the instant stillness of her body was enough encouragement to press his mouth firmly to the spot where her pleasure was centered, finding the small bud of her clitoris between those moist folds, and lightly brushing against it.
Her reaction was immediate and explosively wild.
Arching, Jessica cried out, her legs falling apart a little more. Pleased with such uninhibited abandon, Trenton continued, circling, sucking, delicately abrading sensitive tissue with his teeth until she panted and low moans filled the quiet space of his bedchamber. Able to judge the exact level of her arousal, he waited until he could feel and taste the onslaught of her rising orgasm and deliberately sent her over the edge with erotic, relentless pressure, sliding a long, probing finger into her vaginal passage just as it tightened, and her inner muscles clenched in helpless response.
She climaxed with the same reckless energy she displayed when scrambling up and down cliffs in the wee hours or breaking English laws, he thought as her fingers tore at his hair, and she keened out a small, telling scream of sexual pleasure.
He couldn’t remember the last time he was so enchanted.
* * * *
Limp and half-dead from what had just so gloriously happened, Jessica felt a delicious drifting lassitude affecting her limbs, a distinct pulse still beating between her legs where Trenton had so shockingly kissed her. The fact he had left the bed for a moment almost didn’t register until she realized he had removed his breeches.
Statues and pictures in books did not quite prepare her for the reality of a fully aroused adult male. His penis was very dark and stiff against the flatness of his belly, rising from a nest of dark hair, the tip shining with pearly liquid. She supposed she should be afraid, for it looked enormous, but the truth was, Trenton Wyatt was reputedly quite competent at what they were about to do together. She guessed that the pleasure she had just experienced was merely a sample of what was to come.
“Jess,” he said in a low, sexy voice as he lowered himself over her once again. “Just relax, and even if it is your first time, you’ll enjoy it.”
Staring into his dark eyes as he nudged her thighs farther apart and settled between them, she said tremulously, “I’ll take your word for it. What just happened to me was very…nice.”
“Was it? I noticed a certain enjoyment.” His grin was a trifle too arrogant, but when he leaned forward and kissed her, she felt that same melting heat take her away, her hands coming up to clasp his muscular shoulders. Whispering in her ear, he added, “There is nothing more arousing to a man than to know he’s given a woman pleasure. Welcome me inside you and I’ll show you how we can find it together.”
Consciously trying to not resist when she felt the first pressure of invasion between her legs, Jessica swallowed hard as the tip of his erection widened her female opening, stretching her vagina with inexorable possession as Trenton pushed forward very slowly. Though she was ignorant of the actual act of intercourse before this moment, there was something about the rock-hard state of his muscles under her hands that told her he was exerting considerable control. The slow slide of a bead of sweat along his lean jaw confirmed her suspicion, and his eyes were half-veiled by thick, ebony lashes.
She had no idea mating would be this primitive a feeling, she thought as her body accepted more and more of his engorged shaft. He was becoming a part of her, giving and taking at the same time. While it was slightly
uncomfortable to have her body invaded so privately, so carnally, there was something splendidly exciting about it, too. An intangible desire for what was to come next made her fingers tighten and her breasts ache. “Trenton,” she breathed, not even certain why she said his name.
“Lift your hips, sweetheart, just a little. Here it comes. I have no choice.”
Not certain what he meant exactly, she made a small sound of distress when he surged forward suddenly, the pain a stinging sharp sensation, lost almost at once by the reality of having him fully embedded in her body, his hips against her open thighs, his arms braced on his elbows while he lightly kissed the curve of her cheek and nibbled at her lower lip. “Is it bad?”
It was far from bad. It was incredible. As much as she resolved to be indifferent and selfishly give only what he wanted to take, Jessica couldn’t help but glory in the knowledge that Trenton was the man, after all, to take her innocence. “No,” she said unsteadily.
“You have tears in your eyes.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.” His thumb brushed the corner of one eye, his smile tender and disconcertingly sensual. “Tell me when it gets better, though I have to say, Jess, you feel so damned good and tight, I’m dying to move.”
“You are?” Her lack of experience was a disadvantage of course, especially when she pitted herself against his remarkable sophistication. She murmured, “Do whatever you like, my lord, I’m not a shrinking violet.”
For a moment his gaze flickered, his expression inscrutable. “No, you aren’t, are you?” The words were said very softly. “Your uninhibited passion a few moments ago proves that. All right, but tell me if there is too much discomfort.”
Discomfort was not exactly the word for the sensation of the backward slide of his sex in hers, his withdrawal kindling a deep, fiery expectation that was fulfilled when he sank deep again.
Without any coaching, Jessica arched her spine and lifted to take every hard inch, the delicious friction beyond words. “Oh,” she breathed involuntarily.
“Jesus,” Trenton muttered with almost savage vehemence. “Yes, just like that, Jess.”
She could match him, Jessica discovered with pure physical joy as he began a steady rhythm of thrust and retreat, the heat from his body a tangible thing, her own breathless cries filling the room with every rising, blissful moment. Dark hair brushed Trenton’s neck each time he moved forward, and she could feel the deep nudge of his cock against her very womb, the consciousness of the intimacy of it evoking a whimper of pleasure from her throat.
As the pace increased, she lost awareness of everything in the world but this man and this joining, and the pure, unadulterated sexual splendor of it. When she thought she couldn’t take a second more, impetuous release suddenly streaked through every nerve ending, centering to where Trenton moved between her legs, the explosion both shattering and immensely wonderful. Digging her nails into his bare shoulders, she shuddered and clung to him, and when Trenton went very still and uttered a low, groaning oath, she felt the hot eruption of his orgasmic release inside her with a sort of awe born of both sated senses and newfound knowledge.
Slowly, she became aware that the room was very silent except for the hurried nuances of their breathing. The storm had moved on. The fire had died down to a bank of embers, and outside the big house, the night was quietly moving into the blank, dark hours before dawn. Still clasped in the arms of her would-be—but not necessarily gallant—rescuer, their damp bodies supine and erotically intertwined, Jessica let her lashes drift low.
She was well ruined, she thought with weary resignation, and too damned tired and satisfied to care.
Chapter 3
Colonel Anton Dubbonet smiled, that infamous calculating curve of his lips making his secretary shiver in distaste. “It is impossible,” he murmured, steepling his fingers and leaning back in his Louis IV chair. It was, literally, a piece of furniture from Versailles, his great-grandmother having been at court during the reign of the greatest king of all time.
“Not impossible.” The terse declaration was clearly spoken by a young man wearing the incongruous garb of a common fisherman, his polished speech and demeanor a decided contrast to his mode of dress and fitting in the lavishly furnished room. “I have good sources. Don’t doubt them.”
“A girl?”
“An English girl. Barely a woman, I’m told.”
“She’s the one?”
“It has to be her. There are too many whispers to discount.”
“Once again, impossible. Some of them, you understand, I invented myself. They are clever, and extremely difficult.” Dubbonet bared his teeth once again.
“Perhaps,” the man’s voice was nearly insolent, “she is more intelligent than you are, mon Colonel.”
There was a long moment of silence, punctuated by the ticking clock, before Dubbonet languidly adjusted the lace at his cuffs and laughed. “You are as abrasive as ever, Gaston.”
“And you as arrogant. I cannot complete my task if you do not use the information I bring you wisely.” The young man got to his feet and paced over to where a large window overlooked an ordered garden, dying in autumn splendor. “Her brother is in Spain with Wellington.”
“Who is a fool. Ney and Vitor have everything in hand.”
“Perhaps. But dare we risk it?”
“I suppose.” The colonel thoughtfully fingered a letter opener on his desk, the thin blade topped by a whimsical figure of a mermaid. “It would not be difficult to eliminate this…possibility. A young woman, unprotected, with only her mother and a servant or two. It would be tragic, would it not, if she were to fall from a cliff or drown in the unforgiving arms of the sea?”
Turning, Gaston Romney asked, “Kill her? She might have information we seek. Surely she would be easy to break.”
Waving his hand in dismissal, Dubbonet said, “Do whatever you like. I simply never want to never hear of her again.”
* * * *
The light knock was almost a relief. Trent had been awake for the past hour, and the soft weight of Jessica’s nude body next to his was enough to drive any man mad. She slept with innocent abandon like a young child, all parted mouth and loosely sprawled limbs, though there was certainly nothing childlike about the lush weight of her full, ivory breasts or the feminine curve of her slim waist above the subtle flare of her hips. Her soft hair tickled his nose, and he felt the restless urge to roll her onto her back and replay the fiery sexual encounter of their tumultuous evening.
In fact, he had a full-fledged, rock-hard erection.
Someone rapped politely on the door again.
Lifting up, he growled, “Come in,” in what hoped was a sufficiently groggy voice, the voice of a man who had fallen asleep even though he was indulging in an indiscreet affair.
The drapes were still drawn and the morning cloudy. His valet bustled fully into the room, a tray carrying coffee in a small urn, the necessary china, and a rack of toast in his hands, before he realized that Trenton was not quite alone. Stopping only a few feet from the bed, Jacobs’ stare fixed on the woman sleeping so peacefully next to his master, the tangled sheets doing little to conceal bare, enticing curves and tumbled blond hair.
As if suddenly realizing his error, Trenton snatched the sheet up to cover Jessica and said, “Damnation, what time is it?”
“Nearly nine o’clock, my lord,” the young man stammered, a furious blush creeping into his plump cheeks. Dressed immaculately as always, he was blond and extremely fair, an efficient but gregarious employee who had been with Trenton for about a year and did a competent—if talkative—job. “Pardon me, but you didn’t hang a signal on the door like you do when we’re in London, sir, or I wouldn’t have disturbed you.”
“That’s because the lady isn’t still supposed to be here.” Trenton gave the embarrassed Jacobs a suitably rueful smile and shoved his hand through his already tousled hair. “This is a trifle awkward. Oh, hell, this is deuced awkward.”
&nbs
p; Unfortunately, since Jacobs couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from the woman nestled next to him, the first thing she saw when Jessica roused at the sound of their voices was a strange young man looking right at her. Her lashes flickered, lifted, and then her eyes went wide with confusion and alarm, and she let out a small scream.
Perfect, Trenton though with sardonic satisfaction, for surely half the household heard that. In response, he slipped his arms around her and said, “It’s all right, darling, that’s my valet.” Then he added in a grim tone, “I’m afraid we both fell asleep.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered, still obviously disoriented. Whether it was from registering her presence in his bed and his arms, or the fact that the next hours might hold considerable embarrassment, Trenton wasn’t sure.
“We were bound to be discovered sooner or later, Jess,” he said for Jacobs’ benefit, knowing the young man had a fancy for one of the maids and would pass the information on immediately. Lifting a brow, he said coolly, “Put the tray down, Jacobs, if you please, and come back with another cup, and some writing paper. One of the footmen will need to carry a note to Miss Fairman’s home in a few minutes, explaining her absence.”
“Yes, my lord.” Looking a little flustered, Jacobs complied with alacrity, rushing out of the room and shutting the door with a decided bang.
“I was hoping everything would have been some sort of bizarre dream, and I would wake in my own bed,” Jessica murmured, looking delightfully rumpled and a little dazed with her disheveled pale curls and wide, dark eyes.
Despite the fact that Jacobs would be back very soon, Trenton couldn’t help it. He wanted nothing more than to roll her onto her back, push her legs open, and drive deep inside that tight, wet heat. “That’s not very flattering,” he said dryly, still lightly cradling her delightfully warm, soft body, “especially when I obviously have so much enthusiasm for you being here.”
