by Alice Gaines
“You’re sure about this?” he asked.
“For heaven’s sake, I was a married woman,” she said. “I’m not a virgin, Captain Northcross.”
“You’d better call me Jason, don’t you think?” With that, he lifted the blankets and slipped in beside her.
“Jason,” she said before he leaned over and kissed her.
His caresses had enflamed her before. Now only flimsy layers of linen separated them. The heat of his body surrounded her as he kissed her again and again. Tonight, she wouldn’t push him away. He wouldn’t stop himself, stating reluctance to harm her reputation or other such nonsense. Tonight, he’d show her what a healthy young man consumed with lust could do.
And oh, what a prelude he’d already performed. Just the feel of him—the skill of his mouth against hers, the feel of solid muscle pressing against her breasts, even the scent of him—had her mind spinning. She could hardly catch her breath as she answered with heated kisses of her own. She’d given him permission, but more importantly, she’d given it to herself as well.
He dipped his head lower, bringing his lips to the line of her jaw and below. “I’ve wanted you. So much. I thought I’d go mad.”
“Promise me you won’t hold back. Promise me you’ll give me everything.”
He pressed his pelvis against her, impressing the outline of his member into her hip. “I won’t have any choice.”
Already he’d excited her more powerfully than her husband had ever managed. Her sex had begun a slow ache. It needed him. She needed him.
“Want you naked,” he murmured.
“Oh, yes.” While he eased her chemise upward, she reached for his shirt. Their arms tangled in their efforts, and he laughed as he took the upper hand, almost ripping the linen as he pulled it up and over her arms and head. Then he removed his last scrap of clothing and hurled it across the room. For a moment, he stared down at her out of eyes clouded with need.
Emerald. It was her last thought before he began an all-out assault on her senses.
He kissed her again, even more deeply this time, although she scarcely thought that possible. As though he could never get enough, he devoured her mouth with his own, and his tongue pressed for entrance between her lips. She allowed that, too, accepted it, reveled in it. All the while, his fingers moved over her, down her sides to her ribs and settling at her hips to mold her body against his.
Nothing separated them, to her utter joy. He was magnificent, and she allowed her hands to travel over him, from his shoulders, down the expanse of his back to his hips. Not to be outdone, he trailed his lips downward, leaving a path of kisses and even gentle nips. He traced the contour of her collarbone with his tongue and then bit gently at her shoulder.
“Beast,” she whispered.
In answer, he growled and moved lower. Cupping her breast, he massaged it and then sucked the tip into his mouth. She couldn’t hold back a gasp, the sensations were so intense. Heat and moisture and gentle pressure. Surely, he could steal her sanity with caresses like this, and yet, she’d go mad with longing if he stopped. Stroking his hair, she urged him on. She needn’t have done so, as he continued, cupping the other breast so that the pleasure was complete.
How had she never known sexual congress could move her like this? Nothing in her earlier experience could match the way he made her feel—as if she’d burst out of her skin, as if something inside her were breaking free. Something that would never bear being abandoned again. She was coming alive in his hands, and she could never go back to yesterday.
As she slipped farther and farther into this new reality, he shifted, now lying beside her. He still nibbled at the base of her neck, his breath coming hard and hot against her skin. Before she could protest the fact of missing his body against hers, he drew his large hand slowly over her belly and downward. She might not have realized his destination, but her sex did. The ache turned into a throb as the most secret parts of her awaited his touch.
Even then, she didn’t understand what would happen when his fingers finally stroked the petals between her legs. They felt heavy and swollen, parting to grant him access to her chamber, the place where he’d soon enter her.
“You’re wet,” he murmured against her throat.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re beautiful.”
Sure enough, she had released moisture. It coated the space between her thighs, and the more he stroked her, the damper she became. She should be embarrassed, but the dampness seemed to please him, and besides, she’d gone far past caring about anything but him and the magic he was working on her sex.
When he found her pearl and rubbed, her hips jerked upward, and she cried out.
“Shhh,” he murmured. “Let me.”
As if she could stop him. As if she would. He continued, rolling the scrap of flesh and then flicking his thumb over the tip. Pressure built inside her. Pleasure so intense she forgot to breathe. She caught fire as she gasped for breath. She would explode, and soon. And yet, if she could fight the inevitable for a few more seconds, she could have the magic that much longer.
It went on and on. Jason stroking her, faster now, and she gasped and moaned as the wave grew and crested. Finally, she could resist no longer, and the currents caught her up, tossing her into madness. The thing that had coiled in her belly snapped, and she broke into spasms. It went on for long seconds before she fell back against the mattress with a soft sob.
“Oh, Jason,” she whispered when her voice returned. “How is that possible?”
“You must have spent before.”
“A few times,” she said. “Never like that.”
“You will again before I’m done with you. I promise.”
To that pronouncement, she could only sigh and rest in the glow he’d created. Already he’d awakened her to a new reality, and they hadn’t finished. That hard part of him still pressed against her, promising more new sensations. If he could work such wonders with his fingers, what would he do with that remarkable instrument?
She’d find out soon, because he settled himself over her again, this time parting her legs to make a place for him between them. He kissed her again, slowly and thoroughly while his firm chest pressed against her breasts. Welcoming him, she ran her arms under his so that her hands rested on his shoulders from behind. He’d be her anchor in the next few minutes. He’d join the two of them into one writhing creature, and she’d need to hold him close.
Flexing his hips, he brought the tip of his member to the entrance of her sex. He slid in easily, aided by the moisture she’d released. She should have worried about accepting such a large rod, but the passage only brought her pleasure. When she’d taken all of him to the hilt, he paused, gazing down into her face.
“Bess,” he said. One word. One syllable. Her name. His voice was full of awe, awe she shared. Never had anyone possessed her so completely. What on earth had she done?
When he started to move, rational thought became impossible. He began slowly, sliding nearly out of her and then easing forward again. Though her vision had blurred with rising arousal, she could still watch his face. He’d clenched his eyes shut in complete concentration. The picture of a lover devoted to her fulfillment as well as his own.
Then, even sight failed her, and she closed her own eyes, all the better to devote herself to taking what he gave her. She gripped him with her inner muscles, and that spurred him to faster thrusts. Harder and deeper. And even better. His body slid over hers, creating friction that heated her, inside and out. She wrapped her legs around him so that she could rise to meet his thrusts. After a moment, they moved together, straining. Reaching for more and more.
His moans greeted her rising sighs. Both together, struggling for breath. He hadn’t lied. She would spend again. This time, she’d have him inside her when the explosions came. Soon. Soon.
As his thrusting came even faster, they each retreated into their own worlds. And yet, they remained together. The fire consumed b
oth of them, the two of them greater than a simple pair. Another being had come alive, produced out of both of them. Desire. Living and breathing.
The tension returned, becoming more intense each time they thrust against each other. She would experience the bliss, this time with his body inside hers. Her sighs turned to cries, the pitch rising, as it all came back. The throbbing, the need, the fire. It burst over her, squeezing the breath out of her lungs in a shout. The convulsions started again, but this time, she had his hardness to grip. His presence sent her climax to new heights. Powerful and inevitable.
His body went rigid in her embrace and he shoved himself into her even deeper than before. His voice echoed hers, signaling his own release. She could almost feel the spill of his seed into her, and she surely shared his joy. Holding him fast, she savored his pleasure as her own. He’d shown her so much, but she’d returned the gift, making her satisfaction all the sweeter.
After a moment, he sagged against her, moaning. She held him, stroking his hair and then his back. He made a precious burden against her, and her heart swelled with pride and something more she wouldn’t dare to name.
In the end, he rolled off her, and his softening member left her body. She couldn’t keep him there, no matter how wondrous the prospect. She could only have this night, and she’d savor that, keeping it in a special place in her memory.
He pulled her against him, her face snuggled against his jaw. He’d already grown a stubble of a beard. She hadn’t noticed when he’d kissed her, caught up as she’d been with the taste of his lips. It was oddly endearing, making him more human than god.
“You are amazing,” he said. “Even better than I’d imagined.”
“You imagined doing this?”
“After the way we’ve kissed, you shouldn’t have to ask,” he said. “I hardly thought of anything else, even when we were apart.”
Anna and Rose had been right, then. He had wanted her all this time. True, he’d become passionate at their other encounters, but she hadn’t believed he’d think of her at other times. Now, she could allow herself to experience more than pride. She could imagine herself a desirable woman, if only to this man.
“Did you think about me?” he asked.
“I tried not to,” she said. “I wasn’t very successful.”
He idly stroked her arm, up and down, up and down. “I’m glad.”
“Jason, this doesn’t change things.”
“I don’t see how it can fail to do.”
She pulled back and gazed into his face. “You need to find the right kind of wife.”
His hand stilled, and for the longest time he said nothing. Even the fire seemed to have lost interest into making any noise, and silence settled over them like a cloud.
“If I’ve given you a child, I’ll insist on marrying you,” he said.
“I hardly think that will happen,” she said. “Bert never managed.”
“I have to wonder if he really tried.”
“Of course he did. He wanted an heir, as every man does.”
“Honestly, Bess, you were a virgin in every way except for the strictest sense.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I beg your pardon, young man.”
“Don’t take that tone with the man who just made love with you,” he said. “You hardly understood your own orgasm. I can’t imagine what kind of lover your husband was.”
She ought to slap him, and she might except for the fact that her naked body lay curled up next to his. Besides, he was right.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine.” He yawned and stretched. “It’s time we slept, anyway. Morning will be here soon.”
She rolled over, giving him her back. He didn’t realize she’d shut him out, obviously, because he curled himself around her and pulled the blankets up and over both of them. In a moment, he was snoring softly, his hand resting on her breast.
She closed her eyes, but she wouldn’t sleep. She’d made a colossal mess of everything, and she wouldn’t change a moment of it. Only, how could she face him in the morning? How would she ever let him go?
*
The woman refused to wake up. He’d been fully erect for what felt like hours, although minutes was probably more accurate. He’d pressed his rod into the crease of her arse half a dozen times, and still she slept on as though she lay between clean sheets in her own bed. Well, he had one surefire way to get her attention, so he reached down past her belly to her sweet puss. When he parted the lips and found her pearl, she finally stirred.
He nibbled at her earlobe. “Morning.”
She didn’t speak but only let out a low “ahhh.” So he kept working on her most sensitive flesh until it had elongated and hardened.
By God, women were miraculous creatures, this one the most magnificent. Her passion humbled him, especially because she hardly seemed to value her own appeal. Right now, Priapus would have no one else. The world outside might have ceased to exist. Only she mattered—the softness of her body against his, the plump curves, the way she eased back against him as he teased her button.
“What in heaven’s name are you doing, Captain Northcross?” she asked in a voice both lusty and drowsy. Enchanting.
“Testing a theory,” he answered.
“If it’s about whether you can excite me, I think you have your answer.”
He did indeed. Already her nectar seeped onto his fingers. She could make a man feel like a king with her response, and a good thing, too. He wouldn’t be able to make his insistent erection wait too long. She’d need to become ready for him quickly.
“I wonder,” he said. “That isn’t exactly the question I was pondering.”
“Hm? Oh!” she said. “You’ll excuse me if I’m a bit distracted.”
“If I were to take you again,” he said, “would that be considered one long dalliance or two separate ones?”
“Counting up our sins?”
“Something like that,” he answered.
“I honestly don’t care,” she said. “As long as you don’t stop.”
Not much chance of that. She’d begun moving her hips, reaching for more pressure against her pearl. The action rubbed her arse on his member, and the poor thing would get out of control in another moment. He might spill his seed right there. Both of them would enjoy the encounter much more if he came inside her.
By lifting her leg up and over him, he brought the head of his cock to the lips of her sex. Moving slowly so that he could feel every inch going into her, he pulled her against him while he eased the shaft into her.
She gasped.
“Am I hurting you?”
“Lord, no,” she answered. “Only, did you get bigger during the night?”
“It’s probably the position.” She did, indeed, feel tighter. Impossible, but she could drive him mad just by taking him inside her. They’d made love only hours earlier. He really ought to have more control. But then, he’d always lost his head when he’d touched this woman. The fact that she could reduce him to mindless lust in this situation shouldn’t surprise him.
His body could resist no longer. He continued rubbing her pearl, as much for his own enjoyment as hers. At the same time, he plunged in and out of her, while her wet heat gripped him. If only some deity could grant him an eternity doing exactly this, he’d be the luckiest soul ever born. Her pleasure spurred his on. As her breathing turned ragged and loud, his own lungs had to work for air.
She’d known so little of the physical joys of the sex act. She’d pretended sophistication and an I-don’t-care approach to intimacy, but in fact, her orgasms had surprised her. She should have had everything a man could give her. Hell, she should have had what he could give her. And yet, if she hadn’t taken shelter from the storm, they might never have shared this bed and never known how perfectly their bodies fit together. He ought to thank that bastard Montgomery. He really ought.
“Jason,” she cried. “Does this feel good to you?”
“Go
d, Bess, do you have to ask?”
“I need to hear it.”
“Yes—” My darling. He’d almost called her that. Bloody hell, the feeling only came out of the heat of the moment, didn’t it? “Yes, sweet. It does.”
“Oh, good, because I’m going to spend again.”
“Of course you are. I will, too.”
She sighed. “I’m so glad.”
And far too soon if he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t, damn it. His hips wouldn’t stop moving. His cock wouldn’t allow him to keep from rushing through to the end. He gritted his teeth. He tried reciting all the kings of England. Not a single sovereign could delay the boundary that rapidly approached. Nothing but dedication to her fulfillment held him back.
Then she took the decision away from him. Her sex closed down on his in the signal that her moment had arrived. He urged her on, his finger playing over her pearl. Hard and fast, the way she’d most enjoyed the night before. She responded immediately, her cry rising to the ceiling as her spasms started, rushing through her chamber along the length of his shaft.
At that, his own climax claimed him, coiling in his sac and then pushing outward to his cock. As he emptied himself into her in powerful waves, his mind went blank, lights bursting at the backs of his eyelids. A voice joined hers—his, although it sounded foreign to his ears. He held her against him through the wildness.
When they both finished, they lay together, his member still buried inside her. Hidden in all the bliss lay one discordant note. She’d been right. This changed nothing.
Chapter Eleven
When they arrived at the base of the lane that would take them to Carlton House, Bess ordered Jason to pull the horse to a stop. Time had come to go back to pretending a friendship and nothing more.
“I’ll get down here,” she said.
“Wouldn’t that look lovely,” he said. “Me riding with you walking alongside.”
“It is your horse, and I am the one who caused the . . .” The what? The disaster? The melodrama? What word would you use for the fact that they’d spent the entire night alone together? “. . . the crisis that sent you out looking for me.”
