A Woman Scorned

by Liz Carlyle

  “Jonet?” Cole said softly, after they had drowsed for a bit. “Why did you come here? Was it for this? Or did you really wish to talk?”

  “Umm” answered Jonet sleepily, bracing her hands on his shoulders and pushing herself up to look at him. “All of those things, I daresay,” she murmured absently, her eyes fixed upon his lips. Her mouth parted softly, and then she was kissing him again, pushing her lips against his and gently nibbling at one corner of his mouth.

  “Have mercy, Jonet!” he muttered, urging her away. “I begin to fear you are insatiable.”

  “No,” she said against his mouth, “you are irresistible.” But finally, with obvious reluctance, she rolled off and stretched languidly out beside him. “Do you want the truth?” she asked quietly, after a long moment had passed.

  Cole’s experience at pillow talk was almost nonexistent, yet he knew instinctively that the answer was a resounding no. “Of course,” he bravely lied.

  To delay the inevitable, Jonet reached down to pull up the covers, then settled her head on his shoulder. Good heavens, but he smelted wonderful Warm and faintly spicy, and underneath it all, the subtle tang of male sweat and sated desire. She drew in the scent of him, skimming one hand down his chest to rub little circles over his belly. “I like the way you smell,” she murmured against his collarbone.

  Swiftly, Cole’s hand snared hers and dragged it back to his chest, pressing it over his heart and covering it with his own. “Don’t change the subject, my dear,” he warned. “You started this.”

  Jonet sighed and shifted a little away from him. “I just want to know about your life here at Elmwood. What were you like as a boy? What did you love? What did you dream?” she softly explained, staring up into the depths of the ceiling. “And I want to know if... if you slept here—in this bed—with Rachel, your wife. I want to know if you loved her. I want to know what she meant to you.”

  Cole dragged in his bream harshly. The tension rising inside him was almost tangible.

  “I never slept in this bed with Rachel,” he said quietly, his gaze cutting toward the connecting door. “I always went to her room. May we let it go at that?”

  “No,” she whispered, but despair and doubt were swelling like a tide in Jonet’s chest.

  She prayed she was not pushing this tenuous relationship too fast, and in the wrong direction. Suddenly, Cole’s arm snaked around her shoulder. His mouth came down against her brow, and she could feel his lips moving lightly against her skin as he spoke. “I never loved her, Jonet,” he said softly. “Not in the way a husband ought. And what she meant to me was .. hope. And a symbol of commitment to—to God, I suppose. I don’t even know any more.”

  Jonet tucked her arm about his waist “I think I understand,” she said softly. “Will you—will you tell me about her? How you met her? What she was like?”

  And so, for the next hour or better, Cole found himself doing precisely that. It was hard at first, and yet he found himself telling Jonet things he had never shared with another human being; truths and dreams and fears he had hardly understood himself. And somewhere in the process, he could never remember precisely when, the talk turned to his childhood, to the death of his parents, and to the cold, barren years spent under the auspices of Lord James Rowland. Strangely, peace began to flood his soul.

  At some point, Jonet sat up in bed and refilled their wineglasses. By one o’clock in the morning, the bottle was as depleted as Cole’s angst. By two, he had rolled Jonet onto her back and was thrusting deep inside her again; riding her hard and long, with no sense of her urgency or desperation, and no need to come again. Just slowly and quietly loving her, until she cried out softly, and rose up tight against him, tangling her fingers in his hair and curling her legs snugly above his hips.

  Again, he slept Deeply and dreamlessly this time, with no thought of the future and no fear of the past There was only the present, and Jonet, her legs entwined with his, her arms tight about him. And then he was awake, but barely so, and Jonet was loving him, with her hands and her mouth, coaxing him to erection, teasing at his nipples with the hot, hard tip of her tongue.

  Ah, how he needed her, this wild, reckless woman with her blue-black eyes and wicked hands. His desire had long ago turned to obsession, and had he been in his right mind, he would have known it and feared it But tonight, he wanted only to make her his, and in a way no man ever had, or ever would again. Rachel—poor Rachel!

  She had never even tried to be woman enough for him. But Jonet— oh, she might send him to an early grave from sheer exhaustion. Drowsily, he rolled over and dragged his weight on top of her, spreading her legs wide and pressing her down into the mattress. “What do you want, Jonet?” he asked hoarsely, his mouth open against the curve of her neck, his palms skimming up her arms, over her narrow shoulders, until he cradled her face between his hands. “Tell me.”

  Jonet sighed deeply, reveling in the weight of him, and in the feel of his hardness probing at her entrance. “Now?” she asked teasingly, one leg crooking high above his hips. “Or ten minutes from now? Or forever?”

  Cole’s head jerked up abruptly, his gaze dear and wide awake. “Forever,” he said certainly.

  Chapter 13

  The Widow Rowland Gets What She Deserves

  By the light of the lamp, which had not yet burned itself out, Jonet stared into his eyes. The brilliant, golden gaze was back. The seriousness of it startled her, and she swallowed hard and jerked her eyes away. “I want... I want my children to be safe,” she said, listening as her voice caught, and not fully understanding where the words had come from. “I want my children to be safe, and I want you to love me.”

  “I love you, Jonet,” he said softly, letting his head fall forward until their foreheads touched. “You know that I do.”

  “Yes,” she answered, certain that he spoke the truth.

  “And your children are safe here with me,” he softly vowed. “I swear it”

  For a long moment, Jonet was silent Slowly, she shifted from beneath him and crawled from the bed, then stared down to drink in the long, glorious length of him, stretched across the tumbled linen. Despite her sudden flash of fear and uncertainty, she knew that this night was not about her. It was about him. This man, who left her wild and breathless with the sheer beauty of his body, who made desire fist tight and hard in the pit of her belly. Cole was taut strength and hard bone, sinewed and muscled, and all of it protecting a heart that was honest and gentle and brave.

  Slowly, she reached out her hand to him. “Come with me,” she said softly. “Come to my bed, Cole, and love me again. Then fall asleep in my arms and stay with me there ‘til morning.”

  His jaw hardened at an obstinate angle. It was abundantly clear he meant to refuse her. The memory of a cold wife—and perhaps an even colder bed—lay on the other side of that wall. But by heaven, Jonet meant to get rid of it Slyly, she crooked one finger in invitation. “Come, sir,” she teased. “Do you fear you’re not man enough to please me again?”

  Lightning quick, his hand lashed out, snaring her wrist and dragging her fingers to his mouth. Boldly holding her gaze, Cole drew her index finger between his lips and sucked deeply, suggestively, offering pleasure, promising ecstasy. Her womb tightened with a need that should not have been possible, and for a moment, Jonet was terribly tempted.

  She could not get enough of touching him, or being touched by him, and when he jerked her closer to the edge of the bed, she came willingly, allowing his hand to slide down her belly and between her legs. Spearing his fingers through her damp nest of curls, Cole growled low in his throat and let his fingers probe, sending fire coursing through the pit of her stomach and up her spine, until her nipples drew taut and a deep, keening moan escaped her lips. Restlessly, she moved against his hand, instinctively shifting her hips back and forth as he deliberately tried to coax her back into his bed.

  And then she remembered her purpose. Her hand came down to take his, gently easing his fingers from he
r wetness, and urging him out of the bed. Reluctantly, he stood, then dragged her into his embrace, letting the heat of his hands play over her flesh. “Mmm ... yes,” he murmured, his fingers tracing over her breasts and hips, making her quiver. “That’s it, my love. Come back. Come back to bed and let me pleasure you once more,” he crooned, bending his head to her throat and sliding his tongue slowly upward.

  “Oh, God, Cole,” Jonet heard herself sigh as his fingers slid inside her again, his teeth nipping hard at the tender skin of her throat. Her knees went weak, and she shivered with need as he bit her again, more gently this time, sucking her flesh between his teeth and softly moaning.

  Lord, but he was an obstinate man! Determinedly, she took a step backward, and he followed. He caught her and kissed her, then brushing his mouth over hers, he surged seductively inside on a long, endless stroke. “Don’t you want it, sweet?” he murmured against her lips, lifting her high against his erection and urging himself against her. “Don’t you want me to slide this deep inside you just one more time?”

  “Yes—no—” she stuttered, feeling his shaft throb demandingly against her mound. “Yes, but in my bed, Cole. Now—.’” She jerked away, snatched up one lamp, and fled, leaving him standing in the middle of his bedchamber.

  “My God, you’re a willful woman,” he growled, pursuing her across the floor, through the dressing closet, to stand in the center of her bedchamber, his hands set stubbornly atop his narrow hips. Jonet set down the lamp, flung herself diagonally across her bed, and looked at him through lowered lashes. Cole’s face was a mask of lust and torment.

  “Must you,” he asked coldly, “always have your way?”

  Jonet did not answer. Instead, she rolled onto her back and let her hand slide down her belly. Slowly, very deliberately, she parted her legs and began to caress herself, stroking one finger back and forth, then slicking it around and around. She watched as Cole’s eyes glazed over with passion and his breathing became last and shallow. Still, he stood obstinately in the middle of the room, his frustration warring with his lust “Mmmm ... you like to watch this, do you not, Cole?” she whispered thickly, letting her hips arch ever so slightly off the bed.

  “What do you want of me, Jonet?” he rasped. “I’ve had about all I can take tonight”

  Ignoring his question, Jonet continued to touch herself. “But I do not think, darling, that you would wish me to come like this? Not alone. Not here in this big, empty bed.”

  “No,” he harshly retorted. “I would not wish it Not tonight, at any rate.”

  With calculated deliberation, Jonet slicked her tongue over her bottom lip. “And what, sir, do you intend to do about it?” She twisted seductively atop the bed, one hand fisting in the sheet in mock ecstasy. “Oh, oh, Cole—I” she teased.

  Cole looked at her darkly for a long moment “Jonet, where are your stockings?”

  Jonet stared at him blankly, her motions abruptly still ing. “My—my stockings?”

  His expression forbidding. Cole took one step toward her. “Those damned stockings you wore today!” Cole looked about, his eyes catching on something near her dressing table. “Aha—” he said, grabbing them up in one hand and stalking toward her.

  Jonet’s eyes narrowed. “Cole? ... What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously.

  Cole crawled on top of her with the full force of his weight. “Jonet,” he said grimly, grabbing hold of one of her wrists and shoving it over her head, “I am about to tie you to this bedpost and give you the fucking you’ve been begging for since the first day I laid eyes on you.”

  Jonet tried to scramble backward, but there was no escaping Cole’s weight. Or his determination. “And not some sweet, gentle pleasuring,” he continued, looping the silk around her hand, “in which you tell me what to do, and I just blithely do it. But a good, hard one—and the way I want it, for a change.”

  To her undying shame, a little thrill chased up her spine and came out her mouth.

  “Oh, Cole—.’” she said on a whisper.

  “ ‘Oh Cole’ my arse,” he gritted, already lashing one of her wrists against the sturdy mahogany post. Ruthlessly, he grabbed the other hand and shoved it up over her head. “I have had quite enough of your willfulness, Jonet,” he continued. “For all the weeks that I have known you, I have been civil, and I have been calm, and I have bitten my tongue and put up with your spells and rants and tantrums—when a lesser man might well have snapped.”

  “Oh, yes—.’” she agreed breathlessly, craning her head backward to watch his long, deft fingers lace the silken stocking about her wrist. Cole seemed not to have heard her. “You have teased me and tormented me past bearing, Jonet! You have slapped me, stabbed me, and bitten me, and now, by thunder, your touching yourself like that is just too damned much for a good man to take. I know exactly what you need, and I’m bloody well going to tie you down and give it to you myself.”

  “Oh, yes, Cole!” she answered, quivering eagerly as he drew the back of her hand firmly against the coolness of the wood. Cole laced one stocking through the other, then mercilessly yanked them taut, causing her breasts to arch high and her nipples to peak into hard, little buds.

  “Vamp,” he grunted, tightening the last knot “There, now! So if you mean to marry me, Jonet—”

  “Why, I daresay I ought,” she softly insisted. “I should be afraid to refuse.”

  “—then by heaven, you’ll learn a little obedience,” he finished, roughly shoving her legs apart. “That seems only fair.” Jonet tried to nod.

  “Else you might have to turn me over your knee and... oh, spank me—?”

  “I just might” His head bowed, Cole stroked his hand up and down his erection, then probed rather forcefully at her hot, wet entrance. “So you’d best give me what I want, when I want it,” he finished, shoving it in just an inch.

  “Oh!” she said on a breathless jerk. “That seems very firm coming from a... a former choirboy.”

  “Curate,” he corrected, roughly thrusting himself halfway inside.

  “Ahh—,” she moaned hotly, riding hard down onto his shaft “Yes-s-s!”

  Cole scowled darkly at her. “And when I say be still, Jonet, you’ll do it, and no sass!” Abruptly, however, his mouth twitched, and Cole buried his head in the pillow above her shoulder. Too late. Jonet heard the little laugh that escaped. “At least—at least once in a while,” he concluded, his words muffled.

  “Yes, Captain Amherst, sir.” She eased her pelvis up against his.

  “Oh, bloody hell,” he said on a choke of laughter. “Who am I kidding?” Atop her, Cole began to shake. Jonet kneed him gently in the thigh, until finally, he lifted his head and stared at her, his eyes watering with tears, his handsome mouth quirked tight with barely suppressed mirth.

  “Well,” she said, her eyes wide and serious. “Let this be a lesson to me! I’d best put my clothes away when I undress at night.” Jonet smiled seductively and urged herself against him. “Now, my darling, are you going to give me the fucking I deserve? Or must I resort to something else?” Wickedly, she wiggled the fingers ensnared high above her head.

  Cole’s eyes narrowed darkly, his jaw went rigid, and he shoved himself fully inside with a grunt “I’ll take care of it,” he hotly insisted, stroking fully out, and driving back in again. And again, and again, until Jonet felt that sweet, fine edge of madness slide incrementally closer. She sighed and let instinct take over, but Cole pulled away, bending his head to capture her nipple between his lips. She arched off the bed as he drew her breast into the warmth of his mouth, sucking gently, then roughly, but always persistently.

  When Jonet felt as if she could bear the pleasure no longer, she whimpered and tried to shift her hips higher, her hands and arms straining futilely against the silken stockings that held her fast beneath his thrusting hips and seeking mouth. Restlessly, she writhed beneath him, making soft, wild noises in the back of her throat until at last he released her nipple, only to turn his atten
tions to the other breast, giving it the same exquisite torment. Again, Cole withdrew from her, then drove deep inside, holding himself at a perfect angle. Mindlessly, she threw one leg around his waist, dragging her pelvis hard against his erection.

  Cole lifted his head from her breast and laughed, a low, wicked growl from deep in the back of his throat “Oh, no, my sweet,” he whispered, his hand going around to force her leg back against the sheets. “This time, we do it my way.” Again, he stroked his full, firm length into the wet petals of her feminine flesh, but this time, he held himself a little lower, deliberately cheating her of that perfect stroke of pleasure.

  Her head thrashing back and forth on the pillow, Jonet began to plead. “Please! Oh, please, oh, Cole!” She panted hard, gasping for breath. “Harder. Higher. Please!”

  In response, Cole slid his other hand between them to tenderly touch her, spreading her petals like a delicate blossom. Slowly, ever so lightly, he ran his finger over and around the sensitive nub of her womanhood until she started to scream. At once, his mouth came over hers, capturing the nascent sound and returning it with his tongue. With his shaft still pulsing hungrily inside her, Cole made love to Jonet for long, sweet moments, alternately stroking her deep, then almost withdrawing, so that he might spread her wide with his fingers. Crooning to her with soft, tormenting words, he would slide his thumb over her quivering bud, holding her open and achingly empty, until she squirmed, then begged. “Ah—ah—ah,” she frantically panted. “Ah —please, Cole!” Fulfillment guttered and danced just beyond her reach.

  With a lazy smile, Cole dipped his head to suck the tender flesh of her earlobe. “You want this?” he teased, withdrawing his hand and stroking her deep, touching the edge of her womb with the tip of his shaft.

  “I... I... oh, I want,” she gasped, “I want it hard. Please.” Mindlessly, desperately, she struggled. But subtly, he shifted his weight and slid inside her, tantalizing, tormenting, and leaving her perched on the precarious edge of petit mort.