His chest lightened. When was the last time, if ever, that he’d felt this relaxed and satisfied? For once, he was perfectly content. And judging from the way she hummed softly as she sketched, so was she. And that pleased him more than he wanted to admit. He’d never cared before about a woman’s feelings the day after he’d bedded her, but with Emily, he did care. A great deal.
She looked up and beamed. Her glowing smile swept through him, and his gut clenched. Two days ago, she’d been living in terror and hunted in her own home, but now, she was safe and in high spirits, alive and free…The change in her was nothing short of an answer to his prayers. Her nightmare wasn’t over yet, he wasn’t that naïve. Once they reached London, he would have to ensure her protection however he could and hunt down the man who killed her husband and set fire to the house, but for now, she was happy. And Emily’s happiness was simply infectious.
“You know,” he commented, “people aren’t usually so happy to be bounced across the countryside for hours in a carriage with worn springs.”
She peered at him shyly through lowered lashes. “I know it sounds silly,” she began tentatively, as if testing the newly forged trust between them, “but I keep thinking that this is how it is with ordinary couples taking long trips together. Quiet conversations, stretches of silence that aren’t the least bit awkward, and…” Her lips sheepishly tugged upward.
And anticipating another night in each other’s arms. She’d left that bit unsaid, but he caught the underlying implication in her words and in the way her eyes sparkled wickedly at him. Clearly, she was looking forward to stopping at some filthy, cramped, rat-infested inn with scratchy bedding and lumpy mattresses as much as he was.
He didn’t understand it. He should have been tired of her by now, as he would have been with any other woman in whose company he’d been for this long. But he wasn’t. Puzzlingly, being with Emily only attracted him more. In fact, when he’d been on top of the carriage during his turn at the reins, all he could think about was how much he wanted to be inside the compartment with her. How much it irked him that on this morning of all mornings it was Hedley who rode with her instead.
When they reached London tomorrow, he would deliver her to her family, and everything would change between them. But he had today. Why waste a moment of it?
He reached up idly to brush his fingers against the window curtain, watching her slyly from the corner of his eye. “Do you know what else couples do in carriages when traveling long distances?”
“No,” she answered naïvely. “What else do they do?”
With a devilish grin, he pulled closed the curtain. “Oh, play little games to pass the time.”
“Games?” The disappearance of her smile indicated that she’d followed the sudden turn of conversation and suspected where he was headed. “What kind of games?”
“The best kind.” He reached across to close the other curtain, leaving them ensconced in the muted light filtering inside the compartment. He lowered his voice seductively. “Would you like to play with me, brat?”
At the obvious innuendo, her eyes locked onto his, and her cheeks pinked irresistibly. “Oh yes,” she breathed out quickly. When he crooked a brow at her eagerness, her cheeks deepened to a rosy red. “I mean—naturally, I wouldn’t want you to be bored.”
“Very thoughtful of you,” he murmured with earnest gratitude. Stripping off her clothes and licking his tongue over every luscious inch of her would certainly keep away the boredom.
As if sensing the wicked thoughts swirling through his mind, she inhaled tremulously in anticipation. “What shall we play, then?”
“I have an idea.” He flipped the lock on the door.
“Somehow I knew you would,” she muttered, which only made him smile more wickedly.
“The game is simple. We take turns giving commands to the other, and no matter what the command, you must do it. You cannot refuse, or you lose.”
Her breath came faster now. Arousal tantalizingly flushed her skin at her neckline. “How do I know if I’ve won?”
“Trust me,” he murmured. “You’ll know.”
Despite the heat of his gaze, or perhaps because of it, Emily shivered.
Games…They were playing games, and she had the titillating suspicion that the game he proposed was going to be scandalous, or he would never have drawn the curtains; intimate, or he wouldn’t be looking at her as if he wanted to ravish her; and oh so very wicked, or he wouldn’t have used that low, husky voice that wrapped around her like a spell. Already her heart pounded, and an ache flared between her legs just at the hint of doing something sinful.
And that was exactly what she wanted to do. Be very, very sinful with this man.
“You’ll go first, I presume?” she asked, suddenly nervous beneath his wolfish stare.
“Of course,” he answered, and a bit too gleefully, she thought, although she couldn’t help the responding goose bumps dotting her arms.
“Of course,” she echoed wryly. “However did I guess?”
His eyes gleamed at her sarcasm. “Remember, you have to do everything I say.”
“Until my turn, when you have to do whatever I say,” she reminded him. And how she was looking forward to that! To having this strong, powerful man under her command. “When will it be my turn?”
“When I command it.” He grinned deviously, then gave a teasing cluck of his tongue, scolding her. “Haven’t you been paying attention?”
She scowled. “That doesn’t sound fair to—”
“Put down the sketchbook and pencil.”
Her heart skipped. His first order sounded more like a request than a command, but she did as he bade her and set them aside. “What next, then?”
His gaze fell to her mouth. “Lick your lips.”
“Lick my—” She stopped. Then softer, not quite believing…“You want me to…seriously?”
The grin faded from his face, and a dark, intense expression replaced it. He repeated quietly but firmly, “Lick your lips for me, brat.”
Her blood began to hum. She slowly did as he ordered and traced the tip of her tongue over her lips. An ordinary movement, one she did several times each day without a thought, but now, with him watching her, the gesture felt undeniably erotic.
“Like that?” Her voice came much huskier than intended.
“Exactly like that,” he murmured. His eyes fixed on her mouth for a heated moment before traveling slowly down her body. “Now lift your skirt.”
Her skittering heart completely somersaulted. He’d already seen her naked—for God’s sake, he’d washed her!—but now, with both of them fully clothed in the carriage, revealing even the smallest bit of skin seemed somehow more intimate. Vulnerable. And wantonly exciting.
With a shaky breath, trying to hide the trembling in her hands as she ran them down her legs to her knees and grasped the muslin in her fingers, she pulled her hands back and drew her skirt upward. The lace-edged hem rose slowly up her legs, scandalously stockingless, to reveal inch after slow inch of bare calf. Everywhere his gaze grazed her legs, she felt a shiver of heat as real as if he were actually stroking his fingers over her skin.
The hem reached her knees, and she stopped.
“Higher,” he rasped.
Her heart pounded fiercely, joined by the throbbing ache between her legs, as his desire-hooded eyes fastened on her skirt. Despite the casual way he continued to lean back in his seat, she could see the arousal in him and hear his breathing turn rapid and shallow in anticipation.
Emboldened by his reaction, she nudged the hem higher to teasingly reveal legs closed together at the knees and a short stretch of bare thighs above. The skirt bunched modestly across her lap and hid from his view the triangle of curls beneath. Her own breath came short and quick now, her mouth suddenly so dry that she had no choice but to lick her lips again beneath the heat of his stare, which slowly caressed up one naked thigh and down the other.
“Higher, brat.”
&
nbsp; “Higher?” Instead of the surprised squeak she expected, the word came as a throaty moan.
He gave a single, jerking nod, his gaze lingering wickedly at her lap. “I want to see all of you.”
For a moment, she didn’t move—she couldn’t move! She’d never even undressed in front of a man in the daylight before, and now, to reveal herself in a such a wanton way, in a rolling carriage in the afternoon sunlight, no less…But his eyes stayed on her, patiently waiting and wanting, making heat and moisture gather between her legs, and she knew she couldn’t stop. She was helpless to his commands, because as much as he wanted to see her revealed, she wanted equally as much to bare herself to him.
“Is this what you want?” she whispered. She placed her hands just above her knees and slid her fingers back along her thighs, pulling up the skirt until it reached her hips and bared her from the waist down.
The air ripped loudly from his lungs. Her eyes flew up to his face, but his gaze was fixed on her legs, on the long stretch of nakedness beneath the waist of her dress and the little patch of curls just peeking out from between her closed thighs. His expression burned, filled with such raw desire that she shivered beneath its heat.
“Jesus, brat.” He shifted uncomfortably in the seat. “You’ve got me hard already.”
“Good,” she purred, running her hands up and down her bare thighs, drawing his attention to her core. “Then I’m winning.”
He drew a shaky breath and mumbled, “I think we’re both winning.”
As she stared at him, a devilish realization fell through her, and she suddenly understood how to play this game. Even though he was giving her commands, she was the one in control because she held the power to grant his wicked wishes. And she liked it. Very much.
With a seductive smile, she ordered softly, “Then command me again.”
It was his turn to lick his lips. “Open your legs.”
Raw excitement jolted through her. With her thighs trembling, she slowly parted her knees a few inches, just enough to teasingly reveal a small glimpse of what lay between her legs but not wide enough for his seeking eyes to have a good look. A frustrated sound tore from his throat. A thrill pulsed through her at the power she possessed over him, with the mutual control he held over her.
“Wider,” he growled, his eyes fixed on the spot between her legs. “You know what I want. Open your legs to me.”
With a soft whimper, she closed her eyes, placed her hands on her knees, and pushed, spreading herself wide to his hot gaze.
A masculine groan of satisfaction filled the tiny compartment, the deep sound rumbling through her straight down to her aching core. The cool air tickled against her bare womanhood, exposed in the muted sunlight filtering in through the curtains, but her skin prickled with heat. Not daring to move until he’d looked his fill of her, she took soft, shallow pants of breath as her frenzied heart raced, and as she waited in sweet anticipation for the next command, she prayed he liked what he saw.
“Dear God, you’re beautiful…” Then, so softly she almost missed it, “Touch yourself.”
Her eyes flew open.
He leaned forward in his seat, his elbows over his knees as he stared at her with the greedy hunger of a starving man. Desire gleamed in the chocolate depths of his eyes, with so much arousal pulsing through him that his erection prominently tented his trousers. Emily shivered with her own growing need. This wasn’t the patient tenderness with which he made love to her last night; this was raw, primal, predatory. The feast he’d promised to make of her. And all of her shook with the desire to be devoured.
“Touch yourself, Emily,” he repeated with an intensity that swirled down her spine. “I want to watch you pleasure yourself.”
She froze. Had the game gone too far? In fact, were they still playing games? She was torn between knowing she should stop before she crossed a line from which she might never be able to retreat, and the wicked desire to seduce him without laying a finger on him.
A soft sigh fell from her trembling lips, and she slipped her hand down between her thighs.
He didn’t make a sound as he watched her brush her fingertips through the curls guarding her womanhood, his attention rapt on her seeking fingers. She felt deliciously wanton, brazen, and wholly unashamed beneath his intense gaze. Oh, sweet heavens—she felt alive!
Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the squabs with her legs spread as wide as the narrow carriage allowed, then she stroked her fingers down into her cleft and across her hot folds, to touch herself the way he wanted. To explore herself as she’d never dared do before, not even alone in her bath.
He groaned, the sound as close as if he were leaning over her on the seat, yet she couldn’t bear to open her eyes to look at him. “You have no idea how delectable you are,” he whispered, his deep purr swirling through her head and increasing the rapid tattoo of her pulse, “how innocently seductive…how many times in the past two days I’ve fantasized about watching you do exactly this.”
Emboldened by his words, she mimicked the way he caressed her last night, with teasing little swirls and strokes against her folds. An animal-like groan tore from him, and the primal sound aroused her to a throbbing frenzy. She’d never heard a man groan with desire like that before, never with so much raw passion and unbearable need. And he wasn’t even touching her!
Exciting her to gasping shivers, the thrilling desire that pulsed through her now drove her to find the same release he’d given her last night. She abandoned herself to the throbbing ache beneath her fingertips and sank her fingers deep into her wet softness just as he had done, to caress herself, explore, arouse…She whimpered plaintively, reaching the edge of release but unable to plunge over the cliff without him.
“Kiss me,” she ordered, her voice a throaty plea of desperate need and unbridled arousal. “Now—I need to be kissed.”
His mouth captured hers, hard and demanding and greedy, and he shoved his tongue between her lips to claim both the kiss and all of her as his. He continued to thrust his tongue deep inside her mouth, to taste and plunder, even as he lowered himself slowly to the floor between her thighs. Tearing his mouth away from hers, he nibbled his way down her front, over her breasts and belly, to place a tender kiss on the inside of her bare thigh.
Her eyes flew open. “What—” Her hands gripped his shoulders. “What are you doing?”
“Exactly as you commanded,” he murmured wickedly against her flesh as he turned his head to reverently place a delicate kiss on her other thigh. “I am kissing you.”
She squirmed, her heated body yearning to have his mouth on her. But surely, he couldn’t mean kissing her there—
He licked his tongue against her. There.
“Oh, sweet heavens!” The moan poured from her as her head rolled back in helpless submission.
“It’s your turn,” he breathed devilishly against her, his lips tickling over the throbbing center of her spread thighs, “and I must do as you command.”
Her fingers dug through his thick hair to find some purchase to keep from falling away as the tip of his tongue slowly circled her. Kissing and tasting, licking and nibbling, his mouth was utterly wicked…and oh, so divine! She’d never imagined she could ever feel both as wanton and wonderful as she did at that moment, with her body writhing shamelessly against his lips.
He nibbled down her cleft, only to drag a long lick back up the length of her to the pulsating nub— She gasped at the electrifying jolt of pleasure as his lips grazed against the sensitive point, her legs slamming closed against his shoulders but for his hands on her inner thighs, torturously holding her open wide to his greedy mouth.
“You taste heavenly,” he murmured against her. “So sweet and delicious…and all mine.”
She gasped as his tongue plunged deep to invade her body, then moaned as he thrust in and out of her in a quick, stabbing motion that left her lungs breathless and her sex quivering against his mouth.
“Grey,” she begged, uncer
tain if she was pleading for him to stop or to keep fanning the ache inside her.
He laughed at her confusion, and the deep sound rumbled tantalizingly against her womanhood. What a wicked, wicked game he’d picked! That even when he was losing he was winning. She was helpless against him, shuddering and weak. And hotly craving more.
She whimpered as a primal yearning spilled through her, and she lifted her hips to force his mouth even harder against her, his tongue even deeper. So close, so very close to release…but he expertly kept her dangling at the cliff’s edge without letting her plunge over.
“My turn again,” he rasped. “Do as I command, brat.”
“Yes—anything! Anything you want,” she whined helplessly as he placed one last, impossibly tender kiss against her throbbing center.
He sat back and pulled her across the compartment to him, lifting her to straddle her legs wide across his thighs. “What I want is you.” His eyes gleamed like the devil’s own. “Right here.”
“Here?” Instead of the squeak she expected, her question came as a throaty purr. “Like this?”
His hand dove wickedly between her thighs to fondle her heated folds and wear down her resistance by heightening the ache pounding away inside her. “Just like this.”
“But—but we’re in a carriage!” she protested, even as evidence of her desire wetted his oh-so clever fingers as they teased mercilessly against her.
“I know.” He grinned devilishly at her, then leaned up to kiss away the moan threatening at her lips. “We won’t hurt the baby, I promise.”
Her heart softened that even now he was concerned about her unborn child. But to make love in a moving carriage, with her sitting on him like this—she’d never thought it possible, never even considered…She squirmed over his large erection pressing hard against her bottom and instantly became amenable to new considerations.
Along Came a Rogue Page 13
