The True One (One and Only Series Book 2)

by Samanthya Wyatt

  He opened his arms and she fell into them. God have mercy, how he missed her. Missed her scent. Missed holding her in his arms. Her body trembled and he realized she was crying.

  “I know you are thinking of me. But . . .” she sniffed between sobs. “I can’t bear to be away from you.”

  “I don’t want to fight my feelings any longer.” He gave a growl and held her tighter.

  “Oh, Stephen. Do you . . .” She lifted her tear-filled gaze. “Do you mean it? You do care?”

  “Of course I care.” His gut clenched with the intensity of his declaration. “Let me show you how much.”

  His mouth closed over hers while his hand tightened on her hip and jerked her closer. Like a man dying of thirst, he snatched water. Like a man dying of oxygen, he seized air. He couldn’t get enough, couldn’t kiss her deep enough.

  Her body’s response was strong and swift.

  Lungs near to bursting, they broke apart gasping. His chest heaved and so did hers.

  “Jenny. Sweet, Jenny. God, how I’ve missed you. I’ve missed your smile. I’ve missed the twinkle in your eyes. I’ve missed your touch.” He buried his face in the curve of her neck, his cheek caressing her hair. “My God, woman. What you do to me.”

  Suddenly he jerked back, his hands gripped her shoulders.

  “Why are you here? Has something happened?”

  Frightened eyes stared at him.

  Bloody hell.

  Was he doomed to disappointment?

  “Jenny. For the love of God. Tell me.”

  “No . . . nothing is wrong. I . . . I wanted to see you.”

  Several moments passed before the tension left his body.

  “I’ve been miserable. I hated this chasm between us. I needed to find out if you were just being stubborn or if you . . . if you really did . . . didn’t want me.”

  He grabbed her hand and placed her palm over the front of his trousers. “Does this feel like I don’t want you?”

  “At this point, I’ll settle for that.”

  Surprise had him lurch his head back. “Settle?”

  “I know you want me this way.” She caressed his cock. “But, I think there is more between us. I know you care for me. At least, I hope so.”

  A harsh gasp sprang from his throat as he filled her hand. “Jenny, love. I want you with every fiber of my being. But, if it’s pretty words you want, you have them. I care. I care more for you than I ever thought a man could care for a woman.”

  Her eyes misted over.

  “Now don’t get all teary eyed. Damn.”

  “Kiss me.” She slipped a hand around his neck and pulled him closer.

  “Don’t you want to hear more endearments? Don’t you want me to declare my undying love? And what about you? Maybe a man wants to hear words from a woman about how she feels.”

  Until that moment, he’d had no idea how much he needed to hear the words from her. Needed to know the depth of her feelings. His chest tightened.

  “Oh, you fool. You big, strong, handsome, magnificent fool.” Each word was a loving caress. Her hand caressed his cheek, her gaze penetrated his soul. “I love you. I think I’ve loved you from the day you opened your eyes.”

  Could a man’s chest explode from words alone?

  “I love you, too, Jenny.” God, it felt good to say it. “I don’t know when. But it happened. I love you.”

  He kissed her with a fierceness born from hunger and possession. His. Jenny was his. She loved him. He groaned deep in his throat. His hands caught her head, holding her where he wanted while he drank greedily of her sweetness.

  Stephen’s arms were finally around her, the most blessed sensation in the world. Passion she’d been amassing these past weeks suddenly erupted. She kissed him boldly, urgently, with a determination that drew on the very life-force of her body.

  His tongue stroked, coaxed, delved, aroused her further into the web he weaved around them.

  I love you.

  The timber of his voice when he spoke his endearment slid like warm molasses over her heated body, melting her defenses, creating a yearning beyond her imagination.

  Wordlessly, he scooped her up into his arms and strode to the bed. Her arms tightened around his neck and she rubbed her nose in the curve where his neck met his shoulder. With exquisite tenderness, he deposited her on the edge of the bed.

  Her bonnet long gone, she pulled the pins from her hair allowing the mass to fall in long waves around her shoulders. Then she stood and lifting the tresses, she exposed the back of her gown. Taking the hint, his fingers swiftly released the buttons. Cool air skimmed her flesh, quickly replaced by his heat, and open mouth kisses. Desire pierced her belly.

  Her gown fell to the floor, her chemise quickly followed. When he pushed down her silk drawers, she helped him and soon the garment landed on a pile with the rest of her clothing.

  His arms came around her from behind, and he held her, his harsh breathing sending shivers of delight across every inch of bare skin. He palmed her breasts, weighing them in his hands while his fingers teased her nipples. She threw her head back, lost in his control. He kissed, nipped her neck, then traced the vein from her ear to her collarbone with his tongue. Tingles prickled everywhere he touched her.

  He whirled her around and gave her another harsh kiss. Then hoisted her in the air and placed her in the middle of the mattress.

  All he had to do was look at her with those thickly-lashed green eyes and her insides melted. She reclined on the bed, naked and waiting. His hungry gaze swept over her with fervor.

  “Your turn. You have way too many clothes on.”

  Light glinted in his eyes and he gave a sinister smile. The devil. He reached above his shoulders and grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled it over his head. She gulped at the quiver his action produced. God, he was a magnificent creature. His scars only added to his allure.

  His fingers attacked his breeches, opening his placket. Then, he stepped away, pulled out a chair and removed his boots. Her mouth dry, she attempted to swallow. He stood, and hesitated. When she raised her gaze to his, he smiled. A saucy, gloating smile.

  “Well?” she asked with a hint of annoyance.

  “Hmm. I was sure you’d seen it all before. But, if you insist, my angel . . . although I can’t say I remember you being so eager to see me in the buff.”

  Arrogant poop. Just hurry.

  He tugged his breeches and his manhood sprang free.

  The breath caught in her throat.

  Once he was completely nude, she looked her fill.

  “Like what you see?”

  She felt dizzy and flushed, and her body craved his touch. She held out her arms. “Take me. Make love to me.”

  His nostrils flared.

  With slow, determined movements, he crawled onto the bed beside her. He lifted a lock of her hair, kissed it, and tucked the curl behind her ear. Then he took her face between his hands, the pad of his thumb skimmed along her bottom lip. His gaze held hers while his fingers trailed a path along her throat down to her collar bone.

  He was a master at seduction. A skillful lover. Intoxicating to a state of euphoria. His leisurely exploration so maddening and frustrating, she yearned for more. Then he ever so slowly, brought his mouth to hers.

  It was not the sort of kiss he’d given her before. His lips lingered, his tongue traced her bottom lip. He kissed her eyelids, her temple, as though he savored the finest wine.

  He lay beside her, his body half covering hers. His fingers stalked a path, torching her skin from her chest to her toes.

  Lifting her ankle, he gave her a wicked smile. “I think you’ll like this.” He held her foot and kissed each toe. His fingers massaged her skin, loosening the muscles in her limb. But, when his mou
th opened and he inserted her toe, the muscles in her belly leaped to attention. Then his tongue curled around her toe and laved driving her to distraction. Who knew a body could derive such wanton pleasure from a man licking her toes. Heat pooled in her belly. Each thrust of his tongue between her toes delivered a sharp stab to the pulsing between her legs.

  She moaned. Whether to pull back or push her foot forward, her mind struggled with the maddening decision. After an eternity of pleasuring each foot, all ten of her digits, he worked his way up her body, massaging her calves, kissing her knees . . . behind her knees. Her body in so many knots, she ached for what he would do next.

  With a hand on the inside of each knee, he urged her legs wider. He bit the inside of her thigh, then licked—his abrasive tongue tortured. He scooted further, bit again, and then suckled her flesh. Flaming heat, licked higher.

  She struggled for air, then realized she’d been holding her breath.

  His mouth covered her, there. She pushed her head deeper into the mattress.

  His tongue found her core. He licked, kissed, nibbled, and sucked with greedy abandon. Demented sensations impaled her, making her want to clamp her thighs—to block out his torture—or hold him prisoner?

  He made it impossible for her to choose, with his hands and shoulders forcing her thighs open.

  Oh God.

  She shivered, panted, arched.

  Liquid fire spiraled through her loins. She jerked and called out. Her mind tumbled out of control.

  “Shhh, Angel. I’ve got you.”

  Gradually, Stephen’s words drifted to her ears. When she opened her eyes, he loomed above her. He kissed her with such tenderness, she wanted to cry.

  His hot palm molded her naked breast.

  “Oh, no. It’s my turn.” At his confused expression, she shoved him onto his back, and gave him what she hoped was a siren’s smile. The yearning in his face gave truth to his need. He liked that she’d taken the lead.

  She leaned over and placed a kiss in the center of his chest. Her palms flat, her fingers caressed and stroked his torso. She moved to his collar bone, peppering kisses from one shoulder to the other. Then her tongue fired a path down the center of his chest, darting over to his nipple. The coarseness of her tongue grazed his pebble. His hand moved to the center of her back, leisurely stroking. She laved and kissed and sucked. His hand pressed harder, more firm in his caress.

  His arousal pressed against her, strong and vibrant with need. She ran her hand along the thin line of hair that traced downward over his taut belly. Reaching, needing to touch his passion. His sharp intake of breath emboldened her. Grasping his length with the palm of her hand, she stroked him. Thick and pulsing, her teasing strokes grew bolder. With each stroke he swelled and expanded. Thrilled she could excite him with her fondling, she intensified her caress.

  She swirled her tongue, and her open mouth kisses grew hotter, blazing a path to his lower region.

  The animal groan that came from his throat skirted close to agony.

  He jerked her to him and covered her mouth. Lips and tongue flamed the heat of his kiss. He cupped her mound, nestling his thumb at the apex of her nether lips. Unbearable need for this man crashed on her in waves as fires began to rage again. While he plied her flesh she stroked him in a frantic fashion. Desperate for his maleness. Desperate for . . .

  “Enough!” He grasped her hands, rolled over, and imprisoned them above her head.

  His thighs encroached between hers and he plunged into her slick body. His weight pressed her deep into the feather mattress, her breath coming in shallow snatches. His arms cords of steel, he grasped her hips and lifted her slightly off the bed to meet his thrusts. His gentle deep thrusts angled and penetrated. With each stroke he showed her the meaning of pleasure between a man and a woman.

  She wrapped her arms and legs around him. Like a man possessed, passion had him in her grip. He lost control. Together they soared, lost in one another. Shudders racked her body. She howled her desire into the curve of his neck.

  A second later he gave a shout. Then his steel hard body collapsed onto hers.

  Harsh breathing filled her ears. His heaving chest crushed her own.

  No sounds. Only the motion of a slight sway reminded her she was aboard his ship. She sighed, her fingers danced along his lower back.

  “I’m crushing you.” He kissed her forehead, slowly pulled out, and moved to her side.

  “Mmm. I like having you on me.”

  “Good God, woman. Give me some time before you tempt me to pleasure you again.”

  Her fingers played with the fur covering his chest. “Let me know when you’ve had sufficient rest.” Bringing his wrist to her mouth, she placed a lingering kiss on the angry red marks.

  “Jenny. My scars are offensive.”

  “Not to me.” She rose above him. Holding his gaze, she slid her tongue across her bottom lip. Then she placed kisses on his fur covered chest, tracing his torn skin with the tip of her tongue, and nuzzling the red welts marring his chest. When she raised her eyes to his, green fire flashed back.

  “You are one of a kind. And I almost lost you.”

  “Never. You won’t get rid of me so easily.” Happiness burst within. “You love me.”

  “Yes, Angel. Am I never to hear the end of my loose tongue,” he said while he played with an ebony curl.

  “I’ll expect to hear you tell me every day.”

  “Every day!” His bellow did not alarm her. He jested.

  As if to prove her point, he tossed her onto her back and gave her a breathless kiss. “I’ll have you know, woman, you’ll not be leading me around by the crook of your finger.”

  Her hand slid down to caress his manhood.

  “Ahh, sweet Jenny. Now that . . . is a different matter.”

  Then he gave her another soul searing kiss.

  “Stephen. Your crew.” Jennifer tried to shove him but he wouldn’t move.

  “They’re busy.”

  “They will know what we’re doing.” She swatted him playfully.

  “Yes, my love. They assuredly will know.”

  My love.

  “Get up.” She shoved again. Harder.

  “What? You’re not going to let something like my crew interrupt our interlude.”

  “Interlude . . .,” she huffed. “Get off me.”

  He rolled over. “Aw, come on, Jenny. I like having you in my arms.”

  “Hand me my clothes.”

  He waved his busy brows. “Get them yourself.”

  She couldn’t help it. His naughtiness made her smile and snuggle closer. “You’re incorrigible.”

  He kissed the breath out of her.

  After some moments, she tried again. “Stephen. You must get up. I have to go.”

  He climbed from the large bunk. She ogled his backside. A pang stabbed her belly causing her to groan.

  He picked up her clothes and turned with an ear splitting grin. “I knew you liked me in the raw.”

  Heat flushed her face. But she did so enjoy looking at him.

  “Um, Jenny. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

  He stood holding her gown and she had the insane idea he held her clothing hostage while he delivered his news.

  “I think you’ve known all along. I have to go back.”

  Chapter 32

  Stephen felt the sever just as sure as if an axe had been welded between them. Slicing the tension filled space that suddenly had his life hanging on Jennifer’s response.

  “What . . . do you mean . . . you have to go back . . . where?”

  He tossed her clothes on the bed. “India. I’m going back.”

  Every emotion reflected on her features. Surprise, but she couldn’
t be shocked. Fear, what did she have to be afraid of? He’d gotten most of his strength back. Anger. Now that was one of her attributes he knew well.

  “What reason do you have to go back to India? Do you still have business there?”

  “If you mean, what I did not accomplish the first time, no. That business was not completed.”

  “Do you think it wise? Can you just leave it alone?”

  He gave a heavy sign. “No, Jenny. I cannot leave it alone.”

  “But, after what happened. You cannot go back. Your business cannot be that important. What could possibly be so vital you’d even consider going back?” Her voice grew shrill. She swung her legs over the side of the bunk, and clutched the blanket tighter to her chest.

  Grief rolled off him in waves. “Revenge.” There. He’d said it. He would not lie to her.

  Shock lit her face. “You cannot mean to go back to face the prince.”

  “My crew . . . in the midst of all that horror . . . I can’t get that image out of my head. It’s with me all the time. I owe them.”

  “You owe them nothing. They are gone,” she shrieked.

  Anger mixed with grief pierced his chest. “I owe them a debt. I lived. They died. For me, Jenny. Because of me.”

  “What foolishness. You’re insane. You cannot go back.” She threw the cover aside and groped for her clothes. With trembling fingers, she thrust her arms into the holes and jerked her chemise over her shoulders.

  “I’m a man, Jenny. At least, what’s left of one. That bastard nearly destroyed me. That whoreson slaughtered my crew. After he sunk my ship. The men who swam to shore were cut down by his band of cutthroats. The ones they didn’t kill right away, he butchered right in front of me.”