He pressed his lips to hers once more, and she found herself responding in kind. It was impulsive and primordial—a natural urge to kiss him back, as her abdomen tightened, and her breaths came in short, startled gasps. His grip on her arm was still rough, but his kiss was soft, and his thumb brushed across her cheek with such gentleness that it made her stomach flutter.
Driven by the raw passion of the moment, she looped her arms around his neck, prompting him to release his grip. As soon as he did, his hand moved down her body and slid around her waist, to meet his other hand. His fingertips caressed the small of her back, sending sparks of excitement up the length of her spine.
He caught her mouth in his, the kiss deepening as she ran her own fingertips through his amber curls, somewhat shocked as she felt the delicious caress of his tongue against hers. Curious, she reciprocated, letting her tongue explore his mouth. She could not have pulled away, even if she had wanted to. This was beyond anything she had ever imagined, for his body was pressed flush against hers, her hips moving closer to his.
“You cannot know how relieved I am,” he murmured, pulling away slightly, before plunging back in to kiss her fervently. As she pushed herself further into him, longing to be as close as possible, she felt a hardness against her. Recalling what she had seen between Eddie and Annie, she realized what it was that she could feel. His member strained as she moved her body against it, a groan escaping Lord Burhill’s lips as she did.
“Why are you relieved?” Jemima gasped, eager to taste his mouth again.
He smiled, and nuzzled into her neck, placing kisses along the curve of it and across the bare skin of her shoulders. Meanwhile, his hand slid upwards and caressed one of her breasts, still bound beneath the bandages. She bucked against him as he gently squeezed her erect nipple, her breath catching in her throat.
“Because you are a lady,” he replied, his voice thick. “I desired you, so very much, but I thought you to be a gentleman. You cannot know the turmoil I have endured. But that is past now, for here you are, in all your shapely, feminine glory, and you could not be more exquisite if you tried.”
She smiled at the thought of his relief. “I have longed to tell you the truth, My Lord.”
“Simon, please,” he urged.
“I have longed to tell you the truth, Simon. I almost did, so many times, but I could not find the words.” She squeaked in surprise as he lifted her up and carried her towards the bed, laying her down upon the covers. Leaving her there for a moment, he crossed the room and locked the door, before moving back over to devour her once more.
He lay down beside her, lifting her face to his so he could kiss her again, his lips firm and bruising in the most remarkable way. This is pleasure, she realized. And it felt like pure lightning during a storm, each bolt splintering through her body in the most exquisite way, making her feel more alive than she had ever done before.
“Who are you?” he whispered, kissing her chest, right above her heart.
She paused uncertainly. “Jemima Barton,” she lied. If she revealed her true identity, as the daughter of the Duke of Cowden, he would have no choice but to make her return to England. This way, she could have the best of both worlds, for she longed to hear him speak her name aloud.
“Jemima?”
She nodded shyly.
“I do not recognize the surname. Are your family of title?”
She shook her head. “I am no one, Simon.” It felt strange to say his name, but she relished the way it felt in her mouth. Indeed, it was almost as pleasant as his tongue.
“May I call you by your name?”
“You may,” she replied, tracing her fingertips along the line of his strong jaw.
“May I kiss you again?” He paused. “I realize that I did not ask before, though I ought to have done.”
She chuckled. “You may.”
Needing no further permission, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, moving them with such sensuality that she felt her body might explode. It was tender and rough and firm and passionate, all at once. She tried to match his fervor, letting her hands smooth across his muscular neck and over his taut chest.
“I must make sure of something,” he murmured, with a smile.
“Oh?” She lost herself in his kiss, as his hand moved across her body, making her shiver as it flowed over her bare stomach. She paused uncertainly as his fingers unbuttoned her trousers, before slipping beneath the waistband of her pantalettes. A sharp gasp emerged from her throat as he brushed his fingertips across the bud of her secret flower, moving them in slow circles that urged shudders of pure bliss through her veins.
He smiled down at her as he pulled the edges of her trousers down her hips, granting him further access. She knew she should be stopping him, but she found she did not want to. This had been all she could think about, ever since she saw him submerged in the tin bath, and she was eager to learn more of pleasure.
Slowly, his fingertips moved lower, circling the sweet warmth of her sex. Gripping his shoulders in anticipation, her hips bucked instinctively as he slid two of his fingers inside her.
Oh my goodness…it felt strange and wonderful and peculiar, all at once. Gently, he slid them back out, before moving them back inside her once more. She gasped in pleasure, her eyes fluttering closed as his thumb began to circle her sensitive bud.
With deft skill, he moved his fingers in and out, whilst his thumb brought an unknown sensation that seemed to build. It started in her core, firing off jolts of ecstasy that vibrated through her very being, making her breath harder and faster as she struggled against the overwhelming feeling. Arching her back, she moaned in delight, wondering if this was what it would feel like if Simon replaced his fingers with something else.
Although, from what she had felt of his member, through the fabric of his trousers, it was far larger. Indeed, she was not certain such a thing could fit within her.
And I cannot attempt it, not as I am. She had vowed never to give herself to anyone, unless she was married, and truly in love. Whilst she already felt the beginnings of the latter, they were not bound in holy matrimony. As such, there was a limit upon what she could experience of Simon.
Relaxing back into the bed, her muscles began to tense as that exquisite, unique sensation continued to build within her. With every circle of his thumb, and every thrust of his fingers, she felt herself growing closer to something…though she did not know what. It revealed itself a minute or so later, as a great wave of euphoria crashed over her, eliciting a cry of absolute pleasure from her lips.
Simon continued in his actions, until the intense sensation ebbed, like the rushing tide flowing away from the shore. Jemima trembled upon the bed as her body settled back into a normal rhythm, her every nerve tingling with the residual ecstasy of what he had done.
With a smile, he leaned over her and kissed her deeply, his body pressed against hers. Even through the cotton of his trousers, she could still feel the hardness of him, straining for the damp heat of her sex. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, sinking into the sensual movement of his lips on hers.
“You have been here, all along,” he murmured against her mouth. “You were right in front of me, and I did not see you.”
She smiled. “I did not let you.”
Kissing her once more, he rolled away and lay beside her, gently caressing her face as he gazed into her eyes. “I was a fool, not to have seen.”
“If you had, I would not be here,” she replied, pressing her palms to his chest and feeling the thud of his rapid heartbeat.
“Why are you here?” he said softly. “I am glad that you are, but I would know more of you, now that I know that you are Jemima Barton.”
A flutter of guilt made her stomach turn. “My reasoning is the same.”
“You ran from an engagement?”
She nodded slowly. “He was a brute. A peculiar gentleman, whom I am certain wished me harm instead of affection. I abhor
red him, but he sought out my father’s permission before I could prevent such a thing from happening. I was told that I was to marry him, and that would be the end of that.”
He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I am sorry that happened to you, Jemima. As I am sorry that Harry accosted you in such a vile manner. It was terrible enough when I thought you to be a young man, but it has been made all the worse now that I know you are a lady.”
“You saved me. I will always be grateful for that intervention.”
“As will I,” he replied, smiling happily. “And you may rest assured that Harry will receive the most severe punishment. Although, I will be sure to keep your name out of matters.”
She gazed at him. “Thank you, Simon.”
“It is my pleasure.” He toyed with the shorn strands of her dark hair. “Was your hair long once?”
“It was.”
“I should like to see it, one day.” He kissed her again.
Her eyes widened. “Does that mean you will allow me to remain? You will not send me back to England, where I will face nothing but misery at the hands of that gentleman?”
“I will keep you safe here. I will protect you for the rest of our voyage, and beyond…if you will allow me?”
She nestled closer to him. “I should like that very much.”
It seemed curious to her, as she enfolded herself in Simon’s arms, that her greatest fear should have become her greatest pleasure. She only hoped that nothing would threaten this happiness, for in his arms, she was certain she could find the true love that she had been looking for, all this time.
And yet, she could not shake the terror that something would take him from her. A distant storm on the horizon, that would destroy this, and her, both.
Chapter 26
Two days later, after the cargo from Cádiz had been loaded onto the Evening Star, the ship set sail for Morocco, where they would acquire the silks and spices that were so sought after in England. It was a long voyage to Morocco, but Simon did not mind. He adored being at sea, but his newly confessed affection for Jemima had made it far better than he could ever have imagined.
Somehow, against all odds, the very young lady that he had been seeking had found her way to him. An individual who feared nothing and had no qualms about standing beside him on the deck, and getting her clothes drenched by the spray. Moreover, she longed for far-off lands, and reveled in the cultures and the people that they encountered. In truth, she seemed to enjoy this life as much as he did. And that was priceless.
“Did you care for Spain, Jemima?” Simon glanced over his shoulder, to make sure nobody could overhear their conversation. The other men would think it mighty strange that he had suddenly taken to calling Barton by a lady’s name. Indeed, he was still getting used to it himself, though he relished every time he got to speak her name.
She smiled. “I thought it exceedingly pleasant. I should like to return there, one day.”
“I should like that, too.” He had not dared to enter her bedchamber again, since that passionate evening. Instead, they had returned to their routine of spending the nights in one another’s company, talking by the wood-burning stove. But Simon continued to look forward to kissing her again, whenever such an opportunity might arise.
Truly, with each day that passed, he found himself growing more and more attached to Jemima. He could not resist her warmth and her humor, and her sharp intellect, and though he had never experienced love before, he was certain that he could feel it burgeoning within his heart. It was like drowning, almost, in that he could not breathe when he was around her, and yet he looked to her as a lifeboat, to bring him renewed strength.
“What is Morocco like?” She gazed up at him, her blue eyes twinkling.
“You have the most remarkable eyes. Has anyone ever told you that?”
She chuckled. “They have, but I do not find them particularly extraordinary. Your eyes, however…they are very special, indeed.”
“My mother had the same eyes as me,” he said sadly.
“Is she living still?”
He shook his head. “No, she died some years ago now, after a cruel illness. My father is also gone.” He paused, not knowing whether to continue. The encouraging look in Jemima’s eyes spurred him on. “We did not always exist on the best of terms, he and I, but I miss him. I miss them both.”
“Have you no siblings?”
“None.”
She leaned closer to him, her gaze sorrowful. “Then you are alone in this world?”
He smiled. “I was.” She beamed with delight. “Do you have siblings?”
“No, it is only me.”
“I thought you were the youngest? Did I misremember?”
She chuckled. “That was simply part of my ruse, Simon. I am the sole child of my mother and father.”
“And they are living?”
Her expression darkened, making him wish he had not asked. He did not want to upset her, and he sensed that her family was a somewhat tempestuous subject. Given the terms on which they had parted ways, he could not blame her for that. It was always a tragedy, in his opinion, when young ladies were forced into unsuitable unions.
She nodded. “Yes, they are living. And…and I suppose I miss them, too, despite what they have done. I left so abruptly that I had no time to contemplate their feelings. They are likely worried by now, but that cannot be helped. If I go back there, they will make me wed that despicable gentleman. And I will not do that.”
“Even so, that is a terrible price to pay, when it is not your fault.”
“Yes, I suppose it is.” She sighed wearily, turning her gaze out towards the open ocean. They could no longer see land, only the endless toss and turn of the waves, their tips frothing furiously like jagged fangs.
He wanted to put his arm around her shoulders, to comfort her, but they were too exposed here. Sailors darted about the deck, clambering up the rigging and calling to one another. Simon had always marveled at the agility of these men, who sprinted up the ropes as though they were flat, solid ground. He, himself, had never been particularly good with heights.
“Might I ask who this gentleman was, who you were supposed to marry?” He brushed his arm against hers, delighting in her closeness. Even if he could not pull her into his embrace, he would do what he could to let her know he was by her side.
She shook her head. “He is of no importance. The less I must think of him, the better.”
“I did not mean to pry.”
She turned back to him and smiled. “It is natural for you to be curious, but it is something I simply cannot talk about.”
“I understand. If it brings you pain, I will not enquire again,” he replied softly. “Now, what do you say we return to our quarters and play a game of backgammon?”
She chuckled. “That sounds very pleasant, indeed.”
* * *
The following evening, Jemima had just finished another weary day in the galley. Simon had tried to convince her that he could make arrangements so she would no longer have to work in the kitchen, but she had resisted. It was hard work, but she enjoyed it. And talking to Ben as she worked was a source of great peace to her.
“You seem more cheerful,” Ben remarked, as he cleared away his knives.
Jemima smiled. “I do?”
“You haven’t stopped chattering since you got here this morning. My ears ain’t used to the noise.” He smiled kindly. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s nice to see you coming out o’ yer shell.”
“I suppose it is because I no longer have anything to worry about,” she replied shyly. She hoped that she was not giving too much away. Although, Ben still did not know the truth of her identity. If he did, and he suspected an affection between herself and Simon, there would undoubtedly be an uproar.
Ah, so I do have something to worry about. Now, more than just she herself depended on her secrecy. Simon depended on it, too.
“Well, it’s good to see. You’re an amusing sort of lad,
when yer want to be. I’ve got to admit, I’ve become fond of ye.” He patted Jemima on the back. “Now, be off with ye, before I find some more carrots to peel.”
Jemima chuckled. “I will see you tomorrow, Ben.”
“Aye, that ye will.”
Taking the tray, with enough food for two, Jemima left the kitchens. Ever since Simon’s revelation, she constantly looked forward to the moment in which she could leave her daily duties and return to him. She had stopped dining alone and taken to dining with him instead, if only to keep him company.
A Ravishing Night With The Mysterious Earl (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 18
