Ecstasy n-4

by Nicole Jordan

  Involuntarily Kell reached up to touch his own cheek and the wicked scar there. But his scar was an old one and no longer painful, unlike the ones his brother bore, both visible and hidden.

  Outwardly, though, they were much alike, with jet black hair and athletic builds, although Sean was slighter and not quite as tall, and his eyes were shamrock green, not nearly black like Kell’s.

  Sean glanced up now, his green eyes bloodshot, as if he was deep in his cups.

  Kell clamped down on his churning emotions, knowing he would need to remain calm in order to deal with this volatile situation.

  “Would you care to explain why you’ve barricaded yourself in my bedchamber like this?” he said finally, stepping inside and closing the door.

  Sean waved his bottle toward the quiescent beauty on the bed. “Thish is my revenge,” he muttered, slurring his words. “I abducted her. Ruined her noble marriagsh. Her curshed duke won’t have her now.”

  “And the whip?” Kell asked.

  “Mean to flog her like I was flogged. A whip, not a cat-o’-nine-tails. Won’t hurt as much, morsh the pity.” Sean made a scoffing sound deep in his throat. “Devil is…couldn’t do it shober…Needed courage…” He held up the bottle.

  Kell felt a measure of relief that his brother couldn’t cold-bloodedly carry out his planned vengeance but needed to work himself into a drunken stupor. Sean was a charming, reckless rogue with the devil’s own tongue and a quick, hot temper-no doubt a product of his half-Irish blood-but his darker nature was purely the result of his English ordeals.

  And in this case, Sean’s bitterness was entirely justified. Last June, the treacherous Miss Kendrick had sent her groom to thrash him for daring to aspire to her hand. Left unconscious on the London streets, Sean had been taken up by an impressment gang and forced to serve in the Royal Navy for four brutal months, an experience that had left livid scars on his back.

  Kell couldn’t think of that time without dread and guilt. When his brother had suddenly disappeared, he’d searched frantically and finally rescued Sean from the inhumaneness of the British navy. Yet Kell had once more been tormented by self-blame because he hadn’t prevented Sean’s suffering or shielded the brother he’d vowed to protect.

  Tears suddenly filled Sean’s green eyes before he lowered his head. “I loved her, Kell. Why’d shhhe have to do that? Taunted and teashed me, then spurned me to wed her cursed duke an’ dishposed of me like so much offal. Heartless bish.”

  Kell himself was filled with anger at the vicious seductress who’d so callously orchestrated his brother’s impressment. Even so, flogging her now was insupportable.

  Crossing to his brother, Kell reached for the whip. “You don’t really want to beat her, Sean. No matter her crimes, you can’t be reduced to brutalizing women.”

  When he took the whip away, Sean immediately protested. “Yesh, I can… Sheesh my hostage. Gonna hurt her th’ way shhhe hurt me.”

  Kell tossed the whip on the adjacent table and noted the other weapons his brother had staged there-a pistol and a lethal-looking knife. Sean had obviously come prepared for every eventuality.

  Just then the woman on the bed stirred, giving a low moan. Taking up the knife, Kell went to her. Her patrician face was flushed and feverish, but he fought his feelings of sympathy, reminding himself of her treachery as he carefully sliced away her bonds and freed her hands.

  For an instant she opened her eyes, looking up at him with a vacant stare, and Kell froze in reaction. Long, sooty black lashes rimmed incredible blue eyes, making him suddenly understand the bewitching effect she’d had on his brother.

  From the huge size of her pupils, though, he could clearly see she’d been drugged. Her lashes lowered and fluttered against ivory skin. Then rolling over with a weak groan, she pressed her face into the pillow.

  Deliberately he drew the corner of the counterpane over her, as much to shield her near nakedness from his sight as to ensure her warmth. He had no desire to fall victim to her dangerous allure, as his brother had.

  “What did you give her, Sean?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “ ’Phrodisac. Made her drink it. Thash when she scratched me.”

  “Not cantharides?” Kell said sharply. “Did you give her Spanish fly?”

  “No…not that. Shomething Oriental. S’posed to work as well. Got it from Madame Fouchet.”

  Kell felt another twinge of relief. Madame Fouchet was the proprietor of a high-class brothel Sean frequented. She would have knowledge of aphrodisiacs and appropriate doses. More crucially, she would have shunned Spanish fly, which reportedly could be deadly. Even so, it would likely be many hours before this drug wore off…

  Kell ran a hand impatiently through his hair, wondering what to do about this damnable situation.

  “Why an aphrodisiac?” he asked absently. “Why not simply a sleeping potion if you wanted to render her unable to fight you?”

  “To make her want me.” Sean flashed a sad, watery smile. “Like she once did. She wanted me, Kell. She was so hot…could not get enough of me.”

  With that, Sean struggled to his feet and moved toward the bed, determination etching his features. “Gonna use her body the way she did mine…”

  Just as determinedly, Kell stepped in his path.

  Sean blinked at him, then frowned. “You mean to stop me?”

  “You can’t go about ravishing young ladies, no matter how reprehensible they are.”

  “But sheesh no lady,” Sean replied plaintively. “She looks innochent enough, but she gave me her body. An’ doan forget, she’s Englissh.”

  The reminder was like twisting a knife inside Kell. Miss Kendrick had reportedly turned down his brother’s proposal of marriage not simply because Sean was untitled, but because he was half-Irish.

  Kell felt his jaw clench with familiar fury. Undoubtedly the haughty temptress had the same callous contempt for those beneath her social standing that the disdainful English Lasseters had had for his Irish mother. The same contempt that had led to his mother’s death and that still made him seethe.

  He glanced over his shoulder, torn between his brother’s rightful desire for justice and his own reflexive urge to protect the helpless beauty in his bed.

  He shook his head at his particular vulnerability-caring too much for the weak and powerless. How could he possibly feel sympathy for a femme fatale who’d so viciously left a trail of broken hearts across half of England? Especially when he’d sworn years ago never to let anyone hurt his brother again?

  Yet, still…he would be protecting Sean by preventing his vengeance. Sean had evidently planned to seduce and abandon the beautiful Jezebel, but there would be hell to pay as a result.

  “You don’t honestly want to see her tortured,” Kell asserted in a low voice.

  “Yesh, I do!”

  “What of the club? Do you want my reputation destroyed by a violent assault on a reputed lady?”

  Grimacing, Sean brought his bottle to his lips. “Doan care,” he muttered.

  Kell narrowed his gaze, belatedly wondering why Sean had brought Miss Kendrick here instead of to his own town house. Perhaps deep inside he’d wanted to be prevented from carrying out his planned vengeance. Or perhaps he’d purposely involved Kell in his machinations, bent on another sort of revenge…

  Feeling a familiar ache at his brother’s festering resentment, Kell put a hand on his arm. “You should go home, Sean. You won’t find any further satisfaction by hurting her. Miss Kendrick’s reputation is thoroughly ruined now. Adequate enough revenge, wouldn’t you say?”

  With a snarl, Sean shook off the restraining hand. “No! Not enough.”

  Kell gave his brother a steady, intent stare. “Sean,” he said in a quiet, warning voice.

  The younger man ducked his head, suddenly looking as if he might cry. After another glance at the helpless woman on the bed, however, he nodded drunkenly.

  Kell led his brother to the main bedchamber door and unlocked it,
glad to find Emma waiting anxiously in the corridor.

  “Have someone take him home,” Kell murmured. “I will deal with him tomorrow when he’s in his right mind.”

  “Yes, of course,” Emma said, putting a supporting arm around Sean’s waist and urging him toward the far staircase.

  After watching them go, Kell shut the door softly, but he took a deep breath before turning to face his dilemma. What in hell’s name was he to do with the suffering, senseless woman in his bed?

  Most certainly he couldn’t return her to her family in this pitiful condition. Indeed, for her own safety, he would have to keep a close eye on her. If the aphrodisiac she’d been given was even half as powerful as cantharides, she would be driven by sheer lust. And if left on her own, she might assault any man she encountered…

  No, better to let her sleep off the drug and return her to her family in the morning.

  Kell frowned. Raven Kendrick had thrown off the cover and was thrashing her bare legs feverishly, twisting her head side to side on the pillow. Steeling himself, he approached the bed.

  She had turned onto her back, and her gossamer chemise did little to hide her sweet, firm breasts with their rose-hued nipples or the dark thatch of curls between her thighs. But it was the glorious raven tresses framing her heart-shaped face that held him momentarily spellbound-

  Suddenly she reached out, her fingers clutching his arm with surprising strength as she gazed up at him, her eyes wide and unfocused. Kell found himself staring into deep pools of blue fringed by heavy lashes.

  He cursed, damning the sudden quickening in his loins.

  Yet, as if comforted by the sight of him, she abruptly stilled and let her eyes close. “My pirate,” she whispered. The faint smile that wreathed her delicate lips held incredible sensuality…

  Hell and damnation. It was nearly impossible for him not to soften toward his beautiful, unwanted hostage. But he had to harden his heart if he had any chance of making it through the night unscathed without becoming her victim.

  Extricating his arm from her astonishingly strong grasp, Kell went to the washstand to make certain the pitcher and basin held enough water to cool her fevered body. He’d seen the effects of a similar drug before, at a debauched revelry during his wilder days. She would eventually become hot as a volcano, simmering with sexual need, threatening to explode at any moment. Whatever pain she’d endured at his brother’s hands would pale in comparison to the torment she would experience from the drug if she didn’t find relief. And if he had the least measure of compassion, he would have to provide it for her, would have to help ease her suffering…

  He glanced at the windows where a gray winter light still shone, grimly noting that it was late afternoon. Crossing to the fireplace, he stirred the embers and added a scoop of coal to counter the growing chill. He would have Emma bring up supper later.

  At the bureau, Kell poured himself a generous glass of whiskey from a crystal decanter. Then gritting his teeth, he sank into the chair to wait, knowing it would doubtless be a long night.

  Chapter Three

  Raven arched against her lover’s hand, desperately seeking the exquisite relief of his touch. Her senses were painfully acute. Her skin felt too tight, too sensitive, the ache between her legs unbearable.

  “Please,” she begged, “make it stop.” She felt so feverish, so hot, as she wavered between illusion and awareness.

  “Steady,” he murmured in reply, as if gentling a fractious mare.

  His hand slipped inside her bodice and gently stroked the tender flesh of her breasts, playing over her taut nipples. She sighed at the soothing coolness of his palm offering her relief.

  Her fantasy had never been so vivid, so intense. She was acutely aware of her pirate lover in a way she’d never experienced. The animal heat radiating from his body. The male musk of his skin. The delicious taste of his mouth. The demanding gentleness of his caresses…Nearly shaking with desire, she reached for him, wanting him with a blind, ferocious need.

  He wanted her as well, she could tell. He hadn’t fully undressed, but beneath his breeches, he was hard, swollen, ready to take her. Yet when she touched his loins, he stiffened and drew back, out of reach.

  His hand moved lower, though, down her body, slipping between her thighs, as if he knew exactly what she craved.

  “Let me help you…”

  She scarcely comprehended the words, but his voice sounded like poetry: dark, sensual, arousing. Whimpering, she lifted her hips to him and dug her fingers into the bedcovers.

  His hands were magical against her moist, yearning flesh, assuaging the terrible sweet ache that consumed her. When he relentlessly increased the pressure, inciting a wild throbbing inside her, a cry of longing escaped her.

  Still stroking, he bent to her, his lips finding her peaked nipple through her chemise. Wet, white heat scalded her through the thin fabric.

  She moaned aloud at the sharpened pleasure, while his fingers continued to work their sorcery, ravishing her with tenderness.

  His caresses roused her blood to liquid fire. She was simmering from the molten heat, assaulted by raw, unbridled feeling. She bucked in an effort to escape the intensity of it, but the dark velvet of his voice urged her on.

  “That’s it, let go…”

  Thrashing her head, she strained against his hand, begging him to take her. How she longed to feel him inside her! But still he refused. Yet to her profound relief, he slid his fingers deep within her, penetrating her slick cleft. She felt her pulse racing, her blood pounding at the hot, voluptuous sensation. She was burning, crying out for fulfillment. She writhed with the frenzied need coursing through her, her body shuddering as her hips undulated.

  The rush of sensation ruthlessly intensified, and she went wild with excitement. An instant later she screamed as agonizing pleasure tore through her senses, erupting in pulsating waves, her climax so prolonged, she thought she might die of the painful bliss.

  For an endless moment, she shook in uncontrollable spasms as he continued to wring every last drop of relentless pleasure from her quivering flesh. Finally she fell back, delicious rapture washing through her exhausted body. Her limbs felt limp and heavy and utterly boneless as the fiery heat cooled…

  Turning to him, she nuzzled her face gratefully into the hard wall of his chest and sank into sleep.

  Kell bit back a low curse, keenly aware of the effect Raven Kendrick’s meagerly clad body had on him. After nearly four hours of attending her, the pain in his loins was excruciating.

  He had relieved her suffering as much as was humanly possible, yet he couldn’t relieve his own. She was his captive, completely at his mercy. What kind of bounder would take advantage of her drugged state? Even if she was burning to have a man between her legs?

  Whatever aphrodisiac she had been given was more powerful than any he knew of. It had made her sexually insatiable and frantic for a lover. Despite his skill, manual stimulation wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her. She would need more, would demand more…

  He eased back, away from her warmth, but that slightest bit of distance was scarcely an improvement. He should have put out the lamp. Her shift was dampened from the many times he had bathed her feverish skin, and the cambric had molded itself in a transparent film to her body. The rigid peaks of her nipples strained against the delicate fabric.

  Involuntarily his gaze drifted down her body, over her slender hips and thighs, and lower, where her shift rode up. Those long, naked legs were so slim and lovely. It was too damned easy to imagine them wrapped tightly around his flanks as he took her-

  His arousal throbbed sharply in anticipation.

  He drew a slow breath, trying to ease the brutal tension in his body. Her condition would likely last for hours, and he had to find the strength to resist her allure.

  Averting his gaze from her body, he instead focused on her face. In sleep she didn’t resemble a heartless bitch. On the contrary she looked appealingly vulnerable, with her long la
shes fanned out against her smooth cheeks.

  He’d rarely seen any woman so arrestingly lovely, but hers was an unconventional beauty: fresh, vivid, wholly enchanting. And her mouth…that sensual, provocative mouth was parted in sleep…

  He had tried to avoid kissing that incredible mouth, but she had clutched at him, raising her face to his, imploring him. And in a lamentable moment of weakness, he’d given in, tasting her warmth.

  “Witless fool,” Kell muttered accusingly to himself. He hadn’t wanted her to taste so sweet and hot.

  She moved closer just then, pressing against him, and Kell tensed. He’d removed his boots and coat but left on his other garments as a barrier between them so he wouldn’t be tempted by the intimate contact of skin to skin. Yet clothing had proven little protection.

  “My splendid pirate…” she murmured, curling her fingers on his chest.

  Pirate? That was the second time she had called him that. He raised an eyebrow as he caught her hand and urgently removed it from his body. What would a blue-blooded debutante know about pirates? But then she obviously had more depth of experience than any unwed young lady rightfully should.

  In truth, he’d been frankly surprised by her evident carnal knowledge-and by her boldness. He could well understand how she’d teased and tormented his brother into forgetting his own name.

  She stirred against him, and Kell knew his temporary reprieve had ended. With a resigned sigh, he reached down to give her what she craved.

  His hand claimed the softness of her, and instantly he felt moisture, warm and silky, coat his fingers. When he slid them along her drenched cleft, she whimpered gratefully.

  He stroked her for a moment, then penetrated her warmth with his fingers, sliding inside her hot passage. She moaned and twisted under his caresses, clutching at his shoulders as she tried to get even closer.

  The movement of her body only sharpened his desire, and Kell clenched his jaw against the pain. She was like live fire to his touch: beautiful, hot, wild.

  His own breath was ragged by the time she climaxed for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight. Her cry was sharp and agonized, her body arching and shuddering in his restraining arms.