Where once she would have blushed and been embarrassed by being so exposed to him, now she reveled in it, arching her back as he spread open the slit on her drawers and sighing when he traced his fingertip along her sex. He was like a master musician, playing her body without any effort, knowing exactly how to touch her.
And he did so, slowly, reverently. He smoothed his fingers against her, gentle and exploring before he spread her folds aside. He let his thumb trace her entrance and she gasped, lifting into him so that the tip breached her.
He laughed softly and removed it, swirling wetness against her clitoris before he bent his head and began to kiss and lick her sex. She mewled out pleasure as he tasted and teased her, thrusting her hips in time to his licks until the pleasure built in her. It was slow at first, a faint tingling that rapidly transformed into a trembling fire. He sucked her clitoris hard and the fire exploded out of control. She screamed out loud, clutching at the settee pillows, slamming her hips back and forth as the tremors of pleasure wracked her. He did not set her free, though. He licked her through it all, only ceasing when she went limp and liquid on the couch.
He moved up her body, pressing kisses through her gown until he reached her neck. He nuzzled the bare flesh there, setting her on fire all over again. She wrapped her arms around him, smoothing her fingers through his hair as he dragged his mouth along her jaw and up to finally claim her lips. She tasted herself on him and shivered with the erotic realization.
“Get up,” she said between kisses.
He arched a brow. “Finished with me, are you?”
“Not nearly,” she said with a laugh. “But I don’t want barriers between us. So get up and get undressed.”
He stared at her for a moment. Then he grinned. “I like when you surprise me, Letitia.”
She returned the smile even as she gave him a gentle shove. He stood and began to strip out of his clothing. She also got to her feet and reached around to undo the first few buttons on her gown. He was half-naked when he slipped behind her to help, kissing the flesh he revealed with every button.
Shutting her eyes, Letty melted against him, leaning back into his mouth as he stripped the last fastener away. He dipped long, thick fingers beneath both her gown and chemise and pushed the entire operation forward, baring her from the waist up.
Once again, she thought of how she had reacted the first time he saw her this way. Tonight there was none of the embarrassment or fear she had felt then. She was actually proud as she turned to face him, watching as his eyes dilated when he looked over her half-naked form.
She pointed at his trousers. “Off, please.”
“You too.”
She followed his order, shoving her gown and chemise the rest of the way off, then unfastening her stockings and removing them, along with her slippers and drawers. Now they were both naked and she caught her breath.
He was already hard, his cock curved up against his muscled stomach. She was wet, but she felt wetter as she looked at him, knowing what was to come.
And when she reached for him, he didn’t dodge her touch. She wrapped her hand around him, sucking in a breath as she stroked him from head to base.
“Such a quick learner,” he grunted, stepping backward and leading her to the settee where he had pleasured her. “But I don’t want hands and mouth, Letitia. I want to be inside of you. I want to feel you come around me.”
He sank into a seated position and grasped her hips, pulling her into the gap between his legs. She stared down at him, uncertain what he meant or what he wanted in this position.
He didn’t make her wait long. He lifted one of her legs over him, forcing her to half-straddle his lap. She did the same with her other leg, and he drew her down until her wet sex touched the tip of his cock.
“Oh,” she whispered as she adjusted to align them properly.
“Yes,” he grunted as she began to take him inside slowly. “Ohhhhh.”
She impaled herself on him fully, settling on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. In this spot she was slightly higher than he was, and she looked down into his face as pleasure and love soared within her body. This moment with him had been stolen out of time. She’d never dared hope for it, and yet she clung to it with both hands when she began to move.
His face contorted in a mask of pleasure as she rolled her hips over him and he let out a low groan that felt like it reverberated through her body. His pleasure urged her forward and she increased her pace, grinding against him as sensation burst in her.
It was an amazing thing. Every way they touched, every time they made love, it felt different. This time, with her in control, the intensity of her pleasure mounted quickly. She circled her hips with growing speed, her breath gone as she worked toward release. He gripped her hips with his big hands, helping her roll over him as he lifted hard into her.
Their shared movements finally brought her over the cliff and she cried out, continuing to writhe over him as her orgasm rocked her body. He let out his own shout and she felt the heat of his release fill her. She ground down a few more times and then collapsed against his sweaty bare chest, holding him tight as their heart rates slowed and their breath began to match.
It had been perfect, it had been heaven, but when Jack let out a low curse, she knew one more thing. The pleasure was over. And now came the pain. Only for the first time in her life, she knew she had the strength to face it, to fight it. And she intended to do so. With all she had in her.
Jack smoothed his hand over Letitia’s tangled brown locks and shook his head. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured, self-loathing filling him and replacing all the pleasure he had just shared with this remarkable woman.
She let out a long sigh before she stood, separating their bodies. She reached down to find her chemise and shimmied it over her head before she said, “Which part? Or are you regretting ever touching me at all?”
He got to his feet, heedless of his nudity, and touched her hand. “Great God, Letitia, you must know I don’t regret, couldn’t regret, our affair. I only fear you may now do so.”
“And why would I regret it?” she asked mildly.
He shook his head. Could she be so naïve? He wasn’t certain, given her history. “I came inside of you. That means we could have created a child and…”
She seemed remarkably calm as she filled in the space he left when he trailed off. “And?”
He turned his face. “This is over—we both know it must be.”
She was silent for what seemed like an eternity, but then she shrugged. “No.”
He jerked his gaze to her face. She was not crying, she was not angry—she remained composed.
“No?” he repeated, hardly understanding her meaning. “What is no? There is no question, Letitia. I’m telling you we must stop this.”
“And I’m telling you I refuse to accept that,” Letitia said just as firmly “And not because there may be a child to think about. I hope there is a child, I would welcome a child with your eyes and my nose. A child who proved how close we became and how happy we make each other.”
He blanched as the very child she described appeared almost as a real person before him. He could almost touch her. Almost hold her. Almost embrace the life she represented.
He turned away. “You may hope for that, Letitia. But if it happens, I won’t be there.”
“I already told you, I don’t accept that,” she said. “Not because you would owe me something for getting me with child. But because you are pushing me away when you need me as much as I need you.”
Her words rang true in his mind. So true and so tempting. But he knew they couldn’t be. “I was a tool, Letitia,” he said softly. “Remember? Nothing more than a way for you to have that future you longed for, deserved. I have served my purpose. Please, you must move on. Find someone else, someone who deserves you.”
She smiled, a knowing expression, one that made him feel like the innoc
ent and her the one with understanding when that was so far from the truth.
“You silly man, haven’t you yet realized I don’t want anyone else?”
He blinked. Could an orgasm drive a woman mad? He was beginning to wonder. “What are you saying?”
She reached out to him, her fingers tracing the line of his cheek so gently that his throat closed and his eyes stung with tears that felt like they came out of nowhere. He fought them with all his might as she whispered, “I love you, Jack Blackwood.”
“No,” he said, repeating her earlier response. Only his voice sounded broken to his own ears. “Don’t say that. Don’t throw away something so meaningful on a man like me. I don’t deserve that, Letitia. I never will.”
She tilted her head, and the certainty of her expression never changed. “Don’t you tell me what to do, Jack. I am a woman of my own mind. My own heart. And you will not convince me not to feel exactly as I feel. I love you. You have earned that in our time together.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Letitia, you don’t know—”
“No,” she interrupted. “I know who you are and I love you.”
Jack forced himself to look at her, and he was floored by her calm, her strength, her certainty. This was not a flighty, innocent miss being drawn in by the charms of a scoundrel. She meant what she said. She meant what she felt.
And he was stunned by it. This was a precious gift she was offering. He knew he didn’t deserve that gift, but she wouldn’t allow him to refuse it. And he didn’t want to. In that moment, he was overtaken by a wild and potent desire to take her love. To cherish it.
But then reality returned in a painful, galloping whoosh. And reality was the danger he was currently in. The danger that could cut Letitia as easily as it could slash him. Protectiveness overtook all other thoughts or responses to her declaration, and he reached out to take her hands.
“I need you to listen to me now, Letitia. Hear me. You are in danger. Anyone who cares for me or I care for is in danger.”
Her face fell and she drew her hands back. “Jack, if you don’t love me, be honest with me. Don’t draw me pictures of some great noble—”
He leaned in and kissed her. It was a gentle caress rather than a claiming one, but it silenced her.
When he stepped away he said, “There is a man who hunts me. He will mow down anyone in his way or use those I love as pawns if it suits him.”
She blinked as she stared at him, reading his face, his intentions. For the first time, he allowed that, even though his gut told him to turn away.
Finally, she let out her breath slowly. “You mean what you’re saying. This isn’t some elaborate lie to separate yourself from me.”
He nodded, relief filling him as she began to take him seriously. “I do mean it, and it’s not a lie. But it is why we can’t be together, Letitia. I can’t even think about any future at all until this threat is neutralized.”
“How long?” she whispered.
He shrugged. “Weeks? God, months even. I wouldn’t ask you to wait—”
“It isn’t about waiting, Jack,” she interrupted. “Love is not a fancy for me, given or removed so easily. But I know that what you aren’t telling me, or are at least minimizing, is the danger you are in.”
He held his breath. She was too clever to believe any lie he told. And for once in his life, he didn’t want to tell a lie to distance himself from an emotion.
“Yes,” he said. “I am in danger.”
She reached for him, tears glistening in her brown eyes, those eyes flecked with gold that he had been drawn to from the start. “Then let me help.”
“No. If I had to worry about you, I would be distracted,” he said.
Her frustration was clear as she stared up into his face, but eventually she nodded. “Very well. You need me away, so I will stay away. But understand this, Jack, it is only to protect you.”
He shook his head, mostly because he could hardly comprehend what she was saying. He could count on two fingers the people who had ever wanted to protect him: War and Hoffman. And now Letitia stood before him, jaw set, eyes flashing, ready to go to war for him, or to step aside to keep him safe. His heart swelled, daring him to acknowledge the feelings he was too afraid to name.
But he didn’t. This was not the time to soften. For her he had to remain strong, hard. For himself because for the first time in a long time, he had something to come out of this alive for.
He covered her hand with his and squeezed gently before he stepped away. “Come, we should dress. And then let’s get you home, shall we?”
She nodded, but he could see she wasn’t happy about it. And in truth, neither was he. But this was his path now. And he had to stay on it. For everyone’s sake.
Chapter Nineteen
Letty smoothed her gown and used the mirror in Jack’s foyer to check the sloppy bun she’d put her hair into a few moments earlier. Finally, she turned to face him and found him watching her, a pensive look on his handsome face. He said nothing, though, but only reached out and silently took her hand, leading her out his door and toward her carriage. It was now parked on his drive, waiting for them.
Her hands shook as they moved ever closer to the vehicle and this parting. Perhaps their last parting. After all, she didn’t know the future. Though she saw the truth in his eyes, Jack was well versed in lying to get what he wanted. She knew that all his talk of danger and intrigue and protection could simply be a way to put her off.
She was not blind to the fact that while she had spilled her heart out to him, he had not told her he loved her in return. But at this point, she had to trust in him, trust in the connection they had made that she knew was strong.
Her servants stayed in place as the two of them approached her carriage, averting their gazes when she and Jack stopped next to the door. She wrapped her arms around him, despite the imprudence of the act, and held him close. She could hear his steady heartbeat through his shirt and clung tighter.
“Please be careful, Jack,” she whispered. “Please.”
He nodded, his face troubled, and then he dropped his lips to hers. She lifted into the kiss, feeling the same desperation she had seen in him earlier in the night. Now she understood it. Now it consumed her.
She pulled away and was about to speak again when there was a flash of movement on the street that she caught from the corner of her eye. She looked toward it in the dim light from the streetlamps, and at the same moment there was a loud crack of a gunshot that echoed in the air around them.
Jack lunged at Letitia, pinning her against the side of her carriage, covering her body with his own as two more shots rang out in the night. There was the thundering of hooves from the street and then all was silent except for the cries of her servants as they clamored toward them.
“Jack?” came Letitia’s voice, muffled by his body.
He pulled away and immediately began looking for any sign she had been injured. She was pale and shaking as she stared up at him, seeking answers in his face.
“Jack,” she repeated.
He shook his head. “Hush, be still.”
He smoothed his hands over her body, silently praying as he ensured she was unharmed. His hand touched something wet on her gown and he drew his hand up in horror. Blood. There was blood.
“You’re hurt,” he said. “She’s hurt,” he shouted to her servants.
She looked down at the place he was touching, where he was desperately seeking the hole in her gown, praying she hadn’t been hit in the lung or the stomach. He’d seen men die those painful deaths and it would kill him to see her do the same.
“It’s not me,” she said, pushing at his hands as they sought the horrible truth. “Jack, it’s not me—it’s you.”
He blinked down into her wide-eyed face, her pale and fearful face. “No.”
She grabbed for his arm and lifted it. He was still in his shirtsleeves, and his upper arm had been slashe
d by one of the bullets, cutting through both the cotton fabric and his skin. The cut gushed blood.
“Hell,” he said, sighing in relief. Though when he thought of where that arm had been positioned, his relief faded. He’d covered Letitia’s head with that arm. Which meant the bullet had come precariously close to ending her life.
“Oh God,” she murmured, lifting her hands to cover the wound. “Jack.”
“Sir, is she hurt?” Letitia’s footman asked, standing at Jack’s elbow as he looked around nervously.
Jack shook his head. “No, she seems to be unharmed. But you need to take her away from here. Right now.”
“No!” Letitia cried out. “I’m not leaving you when you are injured.”
“It’s a flesh wound, nothing more,” he said, trying to push her hand away from his bloody cut.
She refused, of course, glaring at him but not releasing the pressure on the wound. “I don’t care. We are going to Gabriel and Juliet’s. She can look at it.”
“No. Not to Juliet,” Jack said.
Juliet was married to Claire’s brother. There was no way his injury wouldn’t get back to War if Jack went to her. And then his brother would insist on staying to help him. He’d already put Letitia in danger tonight—he refused to risk his brother too.
“You need a doctor,” she insisted. “This is deep, Jack.”
Now that the panic, the surprise, was beginning to wear off, Jack realized she was right. His arm burned.
“I will go to my own doctor,” he insisted. “I promise. But for now, you must go, Letitia. Those men could come back.”
“How will you get to your doctor? On horseback?” she asked.
He swallowed back a curse at her stubbornness and then nodded. “Yes. On my horse, of course.”
She flung open her carriage door with the hand that was not pressing against his injury. “Absolutely not. Not only do I think you are not capable of riding, but if those men are thinking of coming back for you, they will see you riding out in the open and compromised by your wound. I will take you in the carriage.”
Seduced Page 17
