Once Upon a Lady (The Soul Mate Tree Book 8)

by Addie Jo Ryleigh

  Chapter 17

  Mesmerized by inch after inch of Kate’s smooth skin exposed to his mouth, Jackson knew the night wouldn’t end without his body joining hers. Everything he craved was at his fingertips.

  “You are so beautiful.” He lavished the words over the curve of her breast as he tugged her bodice lower. With only a gown to deal with, he soon had her bared to her waist.

  As he laid her out on the wide seat, he sat back to absorb the sight. Her thick lashes fluttered closed as her shoulders arched, lifting her breasts higher. His fingertips brushed against each firm mound.

  When he toyed with her erect nipple, her soft moan filled the carriage.

  “I want to taste every part of you,” he rasped, replacing his fingers with his lips, tugging the taut bud into his mouth.

  Torn between continuing his feast or stripping her naked, thoughts of caressing her smooth, bare flesh sent his blood flowing south, tipping the scale. Bestowing one last lingering kiss to her breast, Jackson braced himself above her.

  Prone on the bench, her hair fanned out on the cushions, Kate was a vision of beauty. It took every ounce of strength not to forego patience and sink into her, clothing be damned.

  But if he couldn’t offer her a bed, he could assure her pleasure.

  “Kate, sweet, help me with your dress. Lift your hips.”

  Uncompliant, her hands raked up his chest to where his cravat should have been. With his lack of attire, she was free to dip her hand into the collar of his shirt. “You first.”

  His cock pulsed at her demand, as if agreeing to being set free. Jackson sat back and tore off his coat. His shirt quickly followed.

  His hands reached the falls of his breeches as his eyes met hers. Passion, shining within those warm brown depths, pulled him deeper. Lost in the vision, his fingers stilled over the buttons, and when her hands splayed across his chest, he hissed in a breath of air.

  Her delicate nails playfully scraped over his skin, inflaming a trail straight to his groin. If she kept that up, the night would be over far too quickly.

  Spurred into motion, he unfastened his breeches and shoved them to his knees, his boots preventing further removal. With the need to join with her rushing through him, he’d make do.

  Her perusal grew daring and ventured lower, causing him to forget his damned footwear. His head lolled back when her fingers danced along his erection. And he nearly lost his senses when she encircled his shaft, applying just the right amount of pressure to drown out the world around him.

  “Kate,” he groaned.

  “I want to taste you.”

  His pleasure bordered on pain at her words. “Oh God, I would love nothing more than to feel your lips on me. But I have no control left.” He cupped her cheeks in his palms, leaning down until his mouth brushed against hers. “When I explode, I want to be inside you, gazing into your eyes as you fall apart with pleasure. I want us to go there together.”

  Her lips parted on a soft, “Oh,” tempting him to trap the sound with a scorching kiss. Opening further, their tongues danced.

  His cock straining for her, he tugged her dress off, craving nothing beyond sinking into her heat. To feel her convulse around him. But he needed something first.

  He broke their kiss and sucked air into his starving lungs. She strained forward, trying to renew their connection, and he gave her lips a quick caress. Kneeling between her legs, he feasted his eyes on her exquisite body.

  Smooth creamy skin covered sweet curves and high breasts. Earlier, the night had shielded her from his eyes. Now, the carriage light danced over her naked body, accentuating and exposing every dip, every rise.

  “Jackson,” Kate pleaded.

  He lifted his gaze to her face and realized it wasn’t her perfect body that held her beauty, but her eyes. They carried everything. Trust. Affection. The intensity of her arousal. It was all on display. And each drew him deeper.

  He rested his hand on her hip and, as if the world had slowed, raked his palm up her side, over her stomach, between her breasts. Finally coming to rest along her neck.

  Through it all, he never glanced away from her face. When she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, he growled at the erotic invitation to replace her teeth with his.

  Impulsive words flowed from his mouth. “You’ve seized me. Your body. Your smile. Everything captivates me.” He kissed along her jaw, whispering further acclaim as the tip of his cock brushed against her core.

  His voice broke as her wet heat coated him. “So delicate. So strong.” Then he shattered. Unable to hold back any longer, his lips caressed the shell of her ear and he whispered, “You’re mine,” sinking into her with one slow thrust.

  Her soft cry filled his ears. He stilled, afraid he’d been too rough. He tried to rise, to look at her, but her hands tangled in his hair, holding him still.

  Her breath panted against his cheek, forming a vow. “I’m yours.”

  His shoulders sagged in relief, then his world narrowed to the feel of her, tight, clutching him. His cock begged him to move, to race to completion. Tempering the urge, Jackson slowly withdrew and with even more delicate torture, gently slid deep.

  With a sudden hitch, her breathing quickened. He struggled to keep his pace steady as the sensual sound spurred him faster. Her frantic grip on his hair prevented him from kissing her, so he worshiped the curve of her neck.

  Every part of her surrounded him. Her sounds. Her taste. The steady rock of the carriage teamed with their movements and created a rhythm that sent his head spinning.

  Determined to take her with him, his fingers sought the swollen bud above their joining. Her hips lifted higher, faster as he caressed her there.

  Undecipherable words fell from her lips until all that remained were erratic gasps. Her hands released his hair only to seize his shoulders. Pulled close, he kissed her, immersing himself in her.

  Arching into his body, she tensed, digging her nails into his shoulders. With a kiss, he swallowed her cries of satisfaction. The sensation too much for him to resist, he broke from her lips, plunging deep a final time as his release poured from him.

  As his arms gave out, he collapsed over her, trying not to crush her with his weight. Spent, he gulped air into his lungs in an attempt to calm his breathing. His heart pounded heavy in his chest.

  Coupling had never touched him this deeply nor moved him this hard. Kate’s fingertips stroked his back, creating unbroken designs. Each feathery touch stirred his blood once again.

  His breathing steadier, he murmured, “Are you well? I meant to go slowly.”

  Her beautiful laugh eased his worry. “I didn’t want slow.”

  He lifted his head, desperate to look into her mesmerizing eyes. He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “Being your first time, you wouldn’t have known what to want.”

  She didn’t back down. “I knew I wanted you.”

  “There are many ways to have someone.”

  She smirked. “Given that I enjoyed every moment, I’d say I was correct in not wanting ‘slow.’”

  Since her desires had resulted in more pleasure than he’d ever experienced, debating the issue seemed idiotic.

  Unable to resist her lips, he gave her what he’d meant to be a light kiss. How could he have predicted her response? The way she slipped her tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss until his toes curled . . . His cock, still sheathed in her warmth, stirred and hardened.

  He groaned through the kiss, pulling her tight against his hips, desperate for their desires to once again carry them away.

  But as the carriage slowed, then stopped, the moment was gone. They’d arrived, their evening at an end.

  But are we?

  Chapter 18

  Kate thought she’d feel different. That she’d
wake and . . . well, she didn’t know what, but something.

  Much to her chagrin, as her lashes fluttered open the next day, everything looked the same. The room she’d occupied her entire life in London had retained its lavender hues. The mattress was still a tad on the soft side. And the morning sun yet again blazed unpleasantly on her tired eyes.

  The only reminder her evening had ended differently than any other was the dull ache between her legs . . . and the smile etched on her face. She wanted nothing more than to roll over and bask in the reason her life should suddenly be so different.

  But a shrill voice broke into her recollections. “My Lady, the day is moving on without you. And your father requests your presence.”

  The duke never requested anything. Her maid, Laurie, tried to sweeten the truth but Kate recognized the instructions for what they were . . . a demand.

  The worst of it, good news wasn’t her father’s forte. Kate doubted today would be different.

  “Stop dawdling, Lady Katherine. You don’t want to keep your father waiting.” Laurie remained all too cheery for the morning—and the circumstances.

  “I most certainly do want to keep him waiting, perhaps forever,” Kate mumbled as she vacated the bed. Laurie had been her maid for years; unceasing in her prattling until she was obeyed. Probably why her father continued to employ the woman.

  Laurie’s quick efficiency, as she helped Kate dress, left no room for thoughts of Jackson . . . or the loss of her virginity. Even the most intense and spectacular night of her life lacked the power to change the course of her future.

  Before long—to Kate’s dread—she was presentable in a hunter green day dress and on the way to meet her father. As she approached the door to his office, she wished for a promise of love from Jackson to cling to. Only there hadn’t been any declarations, though there had been plenty of kisses and caresses.

  Kate stopped in her tracks, a mere foot from the room. Did she love Jackson? She’d given the man her innocence—and possibly ruined her future in the process—but did her yearning imply love?

  There was no disputing she cared more deeply for him than Blackthorn. But love?

  Did she want to love Jackson?

  For some women, a night spent in the arms of a man not her intended meant the end of her betrothal to another. Not for me. She might be wild and wanton for giving her body to one man while contemplating marriage to another, but in her defense, only one of the men had asked for her hand. Jackson had remained silent after the deed.

  A heaviness sat on her shoulders. Would she ever escape the weight of her duty?

  Moreover, did she desire to? What could her demanding father possibly do if she grasped what she craved with both hands? Even if he disowned her, she possessed options. Besides the ring, her aunt had left Kate money upon her death. Funds Kate could access at her maturity. But could she live with disappointing her father, especially after fighting for his approval for so long?

  With no answer jumping out at her, Kate raised her hand and knocked.

  The solid door couldn’t contain the deep booming, “Enter.” Not even inanimate objects disobeyed her father.

  Hoping none of last night’s transgressions sat upon her face, Kate opened the door and stepped inside, flinching at the thud of the door closing behind her.

  Sitting behind his desk, his gaze steady on her, the Duke of Cosgrove appeared as imposing as ever. His hair might be graying at the temples and a wrinkle or two had developed on his face through the years, but he remained a striking man.

  “Good morning, Father.” She spoke through the tightness in her throat. A touch of fear shivered over her when he continued to silently survey her. It felt as if every stroke of Jackson’s hand and every kiss was branded on her skin, clear as water to her father’s scrutiny.

  “You were abed late,” he said, more a question than a comment.

  “I had a late evening with Valarie.” Not an absolute lie.

  “Was Blackthorn there?”

  Kate wasn’t fooled by the seemingly innocent question. Her father’s silence, when she and Blackthorn delayed their engagement announcement, actually spoke volumes. He saw it as defiance. And probably feared either she or Blackthorn would cry off.

  Something he’d never allow. Not when she had a duke in her grasp.

  Maddened by the entire situation, Kate did something unlike her . . . spoke her thoughts to her father. “What if I don’t marry Blackthorn?”

  Steely eyes focused on her; nonetheless she wouldn’t regret her outburst. Jackson questioned the meaning of the gnarled tree, but she didn’t fear it. If it was responsible for bringing him into her world, so be it. Even if he wasn’t her future, their association gave her needed courage to finally take hold of what she wanted from life.

  Speaking honestly with her father was where she needed to start.

  “Are you insinuating you don’t wish to marry Blackthorn? Is a duke not lofty enough?” he probed.

  He wouldn’t make the situation easy for her. Kate swallowed her misgivings. “There is nothing wrong with Blackthorn. He is a good, honorable man. But his title doesn’t impress me. I don’t need to marry a duke, Father.”

  He remained too calm for Kate’s comfort. She’d prefer an outburst. Anything to give her a glimpse into his thoughts. “I’m starting to think you don’t know what you need. Where is this coming from? Has some silly friend of yours been filling your head with nonsense?”

  “I’m more than capable of having my own thoughts.”

  “So it would seem. I’m just curious as to what changed from when Blackthorn asked for your hand.”

  Dare she tell him the complete truth? Reveal her increasing feelings for Jackson?

  She opened her mouth to confess when her father queried bluntly, “Does this have anything to do with Jackson Cooper?”

  Her heart dropped to her toes, freezing at her father’s cold tone. “I’m not blind, Katherine. Not yet, anyhow. I’ve seen the looks you’ve exchanged. I only hoped you’d have more sense to avoid a man such as him.”

  Her head snapped up. “And what kind of man is he?”

  “Practically a commoner,” Father spat.

  “His sire is a viscount.”

  “A purchased title.”

  “With his devotion to the crown and to England. Scarcely a minor price to pay.”

  “So, this does concern Mr. Cooper,” her father injected.

  Kate thought on the possibility. Was her newfound confidence because of Jackson? If not for stumbling upon him that first night, would she have quietly married Blackthorn? She’d prefer to think she’d have come to her senses on her own.

  Fairytale or not, the magical tree had done her a great kindness; given her the nudge she needed to finally wake up. Doubtful she’d spend her life in wedded bliss with Jackson, not after his silence regarding the prior evening.

  She was no longer the person she’d been when she’d walked into the Mosley’s ballroom.

  “This is about me.” She took a step closer. “I was amenable to marriage with Blackthorn, Father. But I would be doing it for you, not for me.”

  “Tell me, is Blackthorn aware of this tidbit? Because the last I heard, you were only postponing your betrothal, not ending it. Does he know you plan to toss him over for a commoner?”

  Suddenly Kate spied what was hidden behind Father’s composed veneer. He wasn’t calmly listening to her opinion, finally hearing her, but amusing himself. He had no intention of allowing her to walk away from Blackthorn and run into the arms of a man he believed beneath her.

  “Think of the scandal.” Her father now applied pressure. “I won’t have you tarnishing the Cosgrove name. Your sisters managed to see to their duty, didn’t they? Why are you incapable of doing the same?” His voice never rose in pitch b
ut each word blared inside Kate’s head.

  Dratted tree and whatever magic it contains.

  She’d been so close to gaining her father’s approval. Instead, he glared at her in disdain from across his desk. At this point, even if she married Blackthorn, she’d most likely destroyed any possibility of winning Father’s respect.

  “Are you forcing me to wed Blackthorn?” she croaked out.

  “Do I need to?”

  She wasn’t ready to cave yet. “Very possibly.”

  He fell silent once again as she pleaded, “I don’t love him, Father.”

  A cold laugh greeted her declaration. “Love has nothing to do with it. I didn’t love your mother when we married and I’m sorry to say, I don’t love her now. We exist together. She lives her life and I go about with mine.”

  The prospect left Kate cold and empty. Her father’s revelation wasn’t something she didn’t already know. Her parents were seldom in the same residence at the same time. They fulfilled important social obligations but outside of that, nothing existed in their marriage.

  Father seemed bent on pushing her. “Let me ask you this, do you love Cooper?”

  Even if she knew the answer, she wouldn’t reveal it to him. Not with such cold calculation glaring at her. “I don’t know.”

  “Then why should it matter if you don’t love Blackthorn?”

  “Because I don’t wish to marry him,” she shouted.

  He stood and Kate feared she’d stepped beyond his tolerance. His steady voice deepened. “I’ve asked little of you. I’ve seen to all your needs. Gowns and other frivolous nonsense. This is what I request of you in return. A marriage worthy of your station.”

  “If I don’t submit?”

  At her daring question, a flash of something Kate swore almost looked like esteem moved through her father’s gray eyes. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” He reclaimed his seat. “You may leave.”