The True One (One and Only Series Book 2)

by Samanthya Wyatt

  “When I left England, I brought my favorite ball gown with me. Irrational, I suppose. But it gave me some security. I’ve never had a chance to wear it.”

  “You dressed up for me.” Awe and appreciation combined to an alien emotion unknown to him.

  She stepped closer. “Yes.” She took a deep breath. “I wore this for you.”

  Her deed pleased him more than it ought. In her own innocent way, she dallied with him.

  No she didn’t. This was a widow who knew nothing of seducing a scoundrel.

  Nervously, she chewed on her lower lip. His attention snagged on the movement. His gaze slid down her slender throat, then dropped lower to her alluring cleavage. When she gripped her hands together, her breasts bounced. He damn near swallowed his tongue. The rod in his breeches lurched in torment.

  He took the crucial step that closed the distance between them. An erotic fragrance teased the air compelling him to inhale deeper. A mystical scent of the orient. Seemingly, it too, worn only for special occasions.

  Tonight for him.

  She had suddenly become the one thing he must have.

  Chapter 12

  “Jennifer.”

  Stephen spoke her name so adoringly she wanted to weep.

  His gaze swept her hungrily, then he pulled her into his arms and held her. Surely, he’d had women well-versed in seduction. What if he found her lacking? If he rejected her, she would just die. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart.

  A woman of character would push him away.

  She angled her head in self-doubt, fighting down the surge of excitement. She loosened her hold, placing one hand on his chest ready to withdraw. He caught it with his own.

  “There is no shame in desire,” he murmured huskily.

  Every nerve she had stood to attention.

  His green eyes glowed with passion sending a tiny thrill through her veins. He lowered his head and placed the gentlest of kisses on her neck. A touch so soft it could have been a whisper of butterfly wings.

  Warmth exploded in her center and she hissed a sharp breath.

  He dragged one finger down her throat into the valley between her breasts. His eyes followed, burning her skin as he trailed a path along the edge of her bodice. At some point she stopped breathing. Suddenly, he entwined both hands in her hair and held her fast while his mouth devoured hers. Straining against him, she returned his kiss with equal fervor.

  They broke apart. His breathing rugged, his eyes glittered with passion. He looked as dazed as she felt. He nipped her earlobe, then kissed a path down her neck. A wanton heat settled low in her belly. He pushed the gown off one shoulder. Lips and tongue followed, leaving open mouth kisses upon her bare skin.

  She heaved a shaky breath and dug her fingers into the sinews of his shoulders.

  He tilted her backward over his arm and continued his assault on her upper bosom. Her body’s response was strong and swift.

  He nuzzled one puckered nipple through her gown while his hand plucked the other. Her belly clenched. Then he squeezed and massaged her until she moaned low in her throat. He raised his head. Raw need burned in his eyes.

  His leg slipped between hers and he pulled her core against his arousal. Desire, she’d been ignoring all day, flared to life consuming every part of her body. She whimpered with need, forcing him to press harder while his fingers stroked and pleasured her breasts.

  Instincts she’d never known existed took over. Hungering to feel his skin against hers, she slid her hands under his shirt. Sparks tingled the tips of her fingers, warmth speared her hands. She caressed his skin, slid over rough lesions, and twined her fingers in his springy curls. His moans drove her. He straightened. His arms crossed and he quickly drew the linen over his head.

  Fire blazed in his eyes while a slow, sexy smile grew on the very lips that set her heart to pounding.

  Her gaze dropped lower.

  “Don’t look, Jenny. My body’s not a pretty sight to see.”

  She fingered a scar across his breastbone, close to his heart. Three more connected across his ribs. “I’ve already seen the scars on your body. I’ve already touched them.” She lifted her gaze to meet the reservation in his.

  “You are a man. With a man’s body. These markings only map your journey in life. Your strength. Your métier. Your intensity. Your depth.”

  “They are ugly.”

  “They are you, Stephen.” She opened her fingers, spreading her palm against his furry chest. Heat overwhelmed her. His large hand covered hers in a caress of understanding. Then, his eyes held hers hostage as he raised her fingers to his lips and kissed the tip of each one.

  Her knees grew weak. Her pulse leaped. Sparks of need tingled through her belly. She leaned in for him to kiss her again. He gladly gave her what she wished. Her fingers tangled in his hair and swept the skin at his nape.

  Suddenly her feet left the floor. She tore her mouth away.

  “No, Stephen. You mustn’t. You’ll hurt . . .”

  “Dammit, woman, you just told me I’m a man. Don’t make a eunuch of me now.”

  Her heart near to bursting, she burrowed into his neck. His groan sent a flitter of delight racing through her. Yes, she sighed. Her Stephan was definitely a man. He carried her to the bed and gently, as if she were the most precious thing on earth, lowered her to the feather mattress.

  “I’ve never had a man carry me before,” she whispered.

  His russet brows shot up, hidden by his falling locks. “Never? Well, my angel. Tonight may be a night of firsts.”

  He tugged the fabric down her arms and lower, leaving a trail of warm kisses on her bare skin. Humility gone, sensual craving in its place, she lifted her hips and help him remove her clothing. When she lay naked and panting, he sank onto the bed and stretched out beside her. Resting his weight on one elbow, his other hand stroked her skin.

  He seemed to be in no hurry to remove the rest of his clothes. She wanted to see all of him.

  She closed her eyes tight. Such wicked thoughts. She was a fallen woman. But, how delightful the naughty anticipation thrilled her.

  “You have on far too many clothes,” she whispered.

  He broke away. She lifted her head to watch. His fingers drew the leather ties at his waist. Unable to tear her gaze away, she stared at the bulge in his breeches. Waiting. Silently begging him to hurry. Her eyes widened with fascination when he revealed himself. Her mouth dropped open with awe and his manhood hardened even more.

  Sensations ripped through her.

  He allowed her to look her fill, then he climbed onto the bed. His fingers dove into her hair and he took her lips in a heated kiss. When she could no longer hold her breath, he drew back and searched her eyes, giving her time, silently asking her permission. Her answer was to show him with her yearning body.

  Fraught with need, she pulled him to her and nestled into him getting as close as possible. His hands roamed, creating an ache within her that built into a raging desire. His thumb rubbed her already hard, sensitive nipple. His mouth licked and sucked one breast while his palm molded and pressed the other.

  Stephen kissed his way down to her stomach. She thought she heard him mumble something about another first. When he gripped her knees and spread her thighs, she felt exposed and reacted by clamping her legs closed.

  “Trust me, Angel.” He gave her another bone-melting kiss while his lower body shifted between her thighs. His hand covered her mound and one long finger slipped inside.

  She kissed him back with everything in her, showing him how much she craved him.

  His fingers worked their magic while his mouth leisurely left a wet path down her neck and lingered on her breasts. Every caress left her weak with longing. Again, he slid down to the indentation of her navel, his t
ongue darted out and pierced her. Butterflies attacked her stomach.

  Then he moved lower.

  “You’re going to enjoy this.”

  With his hands caressing her thighs, his open mouth covered her. There.

  She jerked in surprise. His mouth was so hot her blood hummed. He pressed and kissed her mons. Suddenly his tongue flicked and her hips leaped in glee. He pressed her down and held her firm as his darting tongue speared in and out of her, sending bolts of fire to her core. She’d never known anything so sinfully delicious. Her head dug into the pillow while her hands gripped his hair, holding him—there. He nipped and bit and sucked hard. Suddenly she spiraled out of control. And explosion of shock waves propelled through her body.

  Her body hurled over a cliff, and she was falling—falling—falling.

  She didn’t move. Couldn’t move. She never—in her wildest imaginings—had never thought such bliss existed. Twice, Stephen had given her pleasure. The other night when she’d experienced the overwhelming emotion, the experience new to her, she wondered if she would ever delight in such ecstasy again.

  Slowly she drifted back to reality, thinking of the man who created such sensations within her body. He made her lose all reason. All rational thought. She’d nearly lost her mind to his powerful ministrations.

  The man was lethal.

  He shifted, stirring her back to consciousness. She opened her eyes to find him hovering over her. A gratified glint in his eyes and a satisfied smile on those devilish lips.

  She flushed with embarrassment.

  “Another first?” His pleased grin turned to a confident smile bordering cocky. “There’s no shame in enjoying your pleasure. And we’re not through.”

  Not through?

  Her blood still thrummed from her eruption.

  Before she could recover from his unnerving words, his weight bore her down into the softness of the feather mattress. He feasted on her breasts again, laving, teasing until her hands once more clutched his hair in a desperate need, relentless to hold on to the electrifying power that swamped her. He slipped his hand between them just as he raised his head and gave her a bone-melting kiss. She tasted her own essence which excited her and drove her to desperation.

  His hardness, probed, and found entrance. She wiggled, trying to rush him along, force him deeper. He held, not moving. Teasing, provoking, inflaming her senses. Her body arched up to greet him. And finally, with one last nudge, one smooth thrust, he filled her.

  So full.

  So achingly wonderful.

  He moved, just a bit. She clutched his shoulders not knowing what she feared. Knowing only that he was where she wanted him and she must hold him forever.

  When he pulled back she gasped, but he quickly filled her again. “I’m not going anywhere,” he rasped.

  With his arms holding his weight, he withdrew and entered her again and again, moving deeper and deeper. Friction built, plunging her higher until there was a roaring in her ears. The world disappeared and there was only heat and flames.

  Her body coiled.

  “That’s it, Angel. Give it to me.”

  His strokes quickened.

  Then her body splintered and shudders racked her body.

  Stephen gave a hoarse shout and pulled out. Hot liquid shot onto her belly.

  Chapter 13

  Jennifer’s fingers clutched her shawl tighter as she stared into the flames of the burning fire. Her stomach felt as hollow as an empty well. Embarrassment crowded her chest.

  She’d been used. She allowed Stephen to use her body. He’d spilled his seed on her. She’d never been so humiliated in her life.

  The most wonderful feeling she’d ever known, and then reality crashed. The shame of her actions hitting her square in the face. A tear slipped down the side of her cheek.

  He’d embraced her, said sweet words. But the shock of what he’d done—after—mortified her. She didn’t understand. Oh she knew a man’s seed created a baby, but to witness . . . to have his actual . . . on her skin . . . was humiliating. Evidently, while he held her he’d kept his wits about him, calculating how he would not leave her with child. She, of course, had been so obsessed with his lovemaking, she’d completely lost her faculties.

  She’d thought something was wrong with her.

  What did she know of love-making anyway? Her husband had been her only lover. Stephen did things and made her feel things . . .

  How foolish. She’d had stars in her eyes. A handsome man—a lonely woman. A lonely defenseless woman. She really couldn’t be faulted for her weakness. A captain. A man of the world. He’d taken advantage.

  Really, Jennifer? He nearly died.

  And you are not weak.

  Since her husband’s death, she’d survived quite well. She had a home, she had a garden. She’d even managed to outfox her neighbor when she’d really like to trounce the beleaguering man. Pride had given her self-confidence and granted her freedom. Of course, being stubborn as a mule had a lot to do with her independence. If a goal was to be achieved, determination held the key. Her father taught her that. She’d been strong—until he came along.

  How could she have let down her guard? How could she have allowed a complete stranger into her bed?

  Sweet words. Sweet disposition. And a soft heart for an injured animal. Did her pity bring about her fall from grace?

  Pity was far from the emotion she felt for him. Empathy for Stephen never entered her mind when his lips tantalized her body.

  She covered her face with her hands and hung her head.

  Oh God. What am I to do?

  “Jenny? Sweetheart?”

  Using the shawl, she scrubbed her eyes. “What are you doing up?”

  “I missed you.”

  “Oh. I, ah, stoked the fire.”

  “Come back to bed. I’ll keep you warm.”

  His throaty voice warmed her as much as his suggestion. Will-power deserted her. Oh, how her body craved his touch.

  Warmth caressed her back. Leaning down, he placed his other hand on the side of her face. Heaven help her, she leaned up for his kiss, and melted when his lips brushed hers. His strength and scent enveloped her as he lifted her from the rocker. With a will of their own, her arms wrapped around his neck.

  Tomorrow would arrive soon enough. Until then, she’d relish being in her lover’s arms.

  Stephen stood beside the bed looking down on Jennifer in peaceful slumber. His angel made love with zealous abandon. He wondered at the hot-blooded creature. From a purring kitten to a spirited tiger, she’d surprised him. The way she reacted to his touch, like a new born babe coming to life, taking a first breath of air. Every caress seemed new. She responded with a passion that had been locked away and suddenly set free. Her reaction encouraged him, made him bolder. Thrilled him beyond any experience he’d ever had.

  He tied the bits of leather holding up his breeches. With a deep breath he thrust his hands through his hair as if that would clear his mind. The woman was too bloody winsome.

  He closed the door softly behind him.

  Flames no longer blazed in the hearth. Coarse wood scraped the soles of his feet as he shuffled to the stack of timber. He hated the devils who’d done this to him. Marred his body. Taken the lives of his crew. Sunk his ship. Agony pierced his chest while guilt flooded his soul. He would return to England alone.

  When on his ship, he typically enjoyed the quiet of the night. Sailing was rooted deep in his bones. He longed to stand at the helm of his ship, have the rocking sea beneath his booted feet—wind in his hair, fresh salty air, he could truly be free. Only the ocean could heal his spirit. Memories would haunt him forever. Someday he hoped to forgive himself.

  He shook his head in frustration. Revenge. He’d have the Rajput prince’s h
ead.

  A few embers still glowed within the pit. He stirred the ashes, added a few logs and soon he had a fire blazing within the stone-barrier. Rising, he made his way to the rocker. Sparks danced to the tune of crackling bursts. He stared into the blue flames.

  He’d be dead if not for the kind-heartedness of a brave woman. A caretaker who’d nursed him back to health, and he appreciated her generosity. But the woman was sheer invitation to sin, and she wasn’t even aware of it. His own reaction alarmed him. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken things so far. Hell, he was a man, for God’s sake. And Jennifer would temp a saint.

  Not only was the woman beautiful, but she had pluck. More daring than any woman he’d met. She’d adapted to the land without her husband, made a life for herself. Her actions more courageous beyond anything he would have expected of any woman.

  And she’d given herself to him.

  Not that Jenny was innocent. Not that he deserved or wanted her forgiveness. For that would mean he’d wronged her. He did what any man would have done when faced with a beautiful woman. Whether or not she admitted it, she had wanted him. Why else would she have worn that bloody gown if not for seduction?

  A rush of guilt bit at his conscious.

  The woman had tended him. She’d sung to him. She brought color and light back into his own private darkness when he could have gone mad.

  He leaned back, the bottom of his skull barely met the top of the rocker. He closed his eyes to the memory of sweet bliss.

  The first ray of sunlight glimmered through the small window. A new day. Since Jennifer made a habit of rising at dawn, he expected to hear her footsteps any moment. He had to be careful, for already he recognized the signs that he was headed for trouble. Despite the fact he’d spent the early hours pondering his predicament, he had no answer regarding his disturbing state of mind.