Blackthorne's Bride (21 page)

"Wait," he said.

She had closed her eyes, and now opened them and stared at him. Wasn't she supposed to tell
him
to wait?

He ran his fingers through his wet hair again, and Maddie had to restrain herself from wrapping her arms around him and stepping back into the circle of his naked arms.

"Slow down," he said. "In a moment I'll have you on your back, waterlogged, your skirt up around your neck."

The idea didn't sound unappealing, as long as he kept rubbing his warm skin over her and touching her with those talented fingers and that persuasive mouth.

But then he stepped back and she saw that what she had assumed was his hip pressing against her abdomen was actually quite another part of him entirely. Hard, swollen, and thick, the sight of his manhood sent a tremor of fear shooting through her.

"Perhaps you are right," she said, moving back farther. "We should take this slow."

Jack took her elbow, halting her retreat. "Not that slow," he said, mischief in his eyes. "I want time to undress you. See you. Savor you."

"Undress me?" Maddie said, trying to step away again. "But—" She gestured helplessly to the open space around them.

Jack gestured to his own naked form. "It's only fair."

Maddie didn't have an argument for that, and yet, she felt she needed to argue. It was one thing to kiss Jack and become swept away in the moment, quite another to allow him to make love to her outside, in broad daylight. In the sunshine, she couldn't even pretend she wasn't Lady Madeleine. And though Lady Madeleine would certainly do her duty by her husband, that did not mean she would do so with wanton disregard for propriety.

"I know that look." Jack reached out and stroked her forehead. "Stop worrying. In fact, don't think at all. Just feel."

He caressed her cheek, touched her chin, and then moved his hand to run his fingers along the sensitive skin of her collarbone. Maddie shivered as he drew her in and kissed her lightly, his hands reaching back to unfasten her gown.

"Jack," she murmured. "I don't know about this."

"Shh," he said, bending to kiss her neck as he slipped the gown farther down. "You can't bathe fully clothed." His breath was warm on her ear, and his hands had worked her gown down over her hips and were lingering there. "You do want a bath, don't you?"

She dearly wanted a bath. She couldn't wait to rinse off all the grime from their journey.

But a bath with Jack watching?

He removed her stays, then reached for her chemise, and Maddie's hands caught his. "I should keep this on."

He glanced at her, then continued to undress her. "Have you ever swum naked in a pond?" he asked.

Maddie swallowed and shook her head. She could feel the cool breeze on her calves and then on her knees as her chemise rode higher and higher.

"You're going to love it," he whispered, and she knew he was right.

He tugged her farther into the water, pulling her chemise over her head and tossing it onto the bank behind them. And then, just as the cold water started to make her shiver, he closed his warm, naked body around her.

Maddie shivered from the contrast between the heat of Jack's body and the cool water of the pond.

She was naked.

She was naked and pressed against her equally naked husband.

In full daylight, no less! She couldn't even blow out a candle and seek privacy in darkness. No, he could see every inch of her. And he would, as soon as he released her.

Unless he didn't release her ...

Maddie wrapped her arms around Jack and buried her neck in his chest. He smelled like sunshine and blue skies and shaving lotion. She noted once again that his face was clean and smooth. He must have borrowed a razor from the farmer.

She'd almost grown used to seeing him with that black beard, and he looked younger without it.

Jack began to pull away, but Maddie wouldn't allow it. She stayed pressed against him, hiding her too-ample breasts and hips from his eyes.

When he tried to step back again, she went with him, and he almost lost his balance. "I had no idea you liked me this much," he drawled when she still wouldn't release him.

"I don't like you this much," she retorted, and kept her arms firmly clenched around him.

"Then let go," he said.

"What? And parade myself in front of everyone? I don't think so."

His laughter rumbled through her. "Parade yourself? And who's everyone? It's only you and me."

"That's not the point."

"Fine." Jack grasped her chin and forced her to look him in the eye. "We'll walk into deeper water."

Staring into his eyes made her think of kissing him again, and that made her shiver again, but she managed to nod and follow him farther out. Her body was becoming accustomed to the water temperature, and when she finally released him and ducked under, the water felt perfect.

She dipped her head back, wetting her hair and face, then came up smiling at Jack, who was standing in water to his neck. She could barely touch the pond's floor on tiptoes.

"Better?" Jack asked.

Maddie smiled and nodded.

"And what do you think of swimming without clothes?"

"It's deliciously wicked," she answered. "I feel like the most sinful libertine."

Maddie felt her face heat, and she ducked under again. When she came up, he was still looking at her, his swept-back hair making the hard planes of his jaw and cheekbones stand out. His black lashes were wet and spiky, and his dark eyes were filled with mischief and something that looked very much like desire.

"So I've married a wanton libertine. My luck improves day by day."

Maddie, treading water now, shook her head. "But that's the problem, Jack. I'm not a libertine. I'm Lady Madeleine. I shouldn't be doing this." She gestured to the pond and her lonely clothes, balled up on the shore.

"Who says?" He moved closer to her, and Maddie treaded water faster.

"I—I imagine everyone would say so. This isn't proper."

"Not proper for Lady Madeleine." He came closer still, and Maddie thought she felt his leg brush hers under the water. She looked down but saw only her own rapidly peddling legs. "But what you have failed to consider, my lady"—Jack reached out to her, his hand skimming the surface of the water—"is that you are no longer Lady Madeleine. Now you're Lady Blackthorne. My wife."

Maddie raised her eyebrows. She hadn't thought of that. She was Lady Blackthorne. She was a marchioness. "And who is Lady Blackthorne?" she asked. "I don't know anything about her."

"She's whoever you want her to be," Jack said, his voice low and husky. "She's part Lady Madeleine and part someone else entirely."

"Who?"

He held his hand out again. "Come here and I'll show you."

Her heart was beating fast now as she put her hand in Jack's and allowed him to pull her body into his. Even under the water she could feel the heat of him. His skin was warm and sleek and hard, and she rubbed wantonly against him. Without the constraints of gravity, he held her in his arms easily, and his hands were everywhere—cupping her behind, her breasts, her hips.

And she was just as liberal with her touches. She rubbed a hand against the light smattering of hair on his smooth chest, traced a finger down his hard abdomen, and brushed against the evidence of his desire for her.

"Put your legs around me," he whispered into her ear, and her whole body quivered. "Put your legs around my waist."

"Is that the kind of thing Lady Blackthorne would do?"

"God, I hope so," he answered.

She moved forward, wrapping her legs around him, pressing against those sleek muscles and feeling his hands support her back and buttocks. Every inch of her was molded to every inch of him, and, between them, pressed his hard member.

"I want you, Maddie," he whispered. "I want to slip inside you and make you my wife."

"I want that, too," she whispered.

"How much?" he asked, stroking her nipple until it peaked with need. "Enough to allow me to make you ready? Enough to do something truly wanton?"

Maddie felt the blood pound in her ears. She was excited, aroused—too far gone to make a sound decision. But maybe that had always been her problem. Maybe she needed someone to make her let go.

"What do you want me to do, Jack?"

"Float on your back, and let me give you pleasure."

Maddie didn't know what she'd expected him to say, but that was not it. And wasn't that what made being with Jack so exciting? He never said what one expected.

She released him and lay on her back, until she was floating comfortably. His hand was under her, supporting her. He looked down at her, and she kissed him, feeling all her need for him well up in that single exchange of mouth on mouth.

"Let me pleasure you," he said when they parted. "Let me have my way."

She nodded her acquiescence, though she couldn't have refused him anything by then. She wanted him so much, needed him to keep touching her, kissing her.

He kept his hand under her back to support her as he dove underneath the water, surfacing between her legs. Maddie jerked when she saw his head pop up between her knees. "What are you—"

"Shh," he said, reaching one hand forward to stroke her inner thigh. She shivered and flailed her arms a bit, but he kept her afloat.

"Open your legs for me," he whispered, his breath tickling the spot just above her knee. "I want to kiss you ... here." He touched her inner thigh a few inches above her knee. "And here." He touched her higher, and Maddie inhaled sharply. "And here." He touched her womanhood, and she jerked and moaned at the pleasant shock that went through her.

"I thought you'd like that. Now open for me."

God help her, she obeyed him.
You're not Lady Madeleine,
she told herself as he rained kisses on the inside of her leg all the way to her core. "You're Lady Blackthorne," she whispered as his tongue retraced the trail of kisses. And then his mouth was on that most sensitive part of her, and his fingers were spreading her gently, so that his tongue might taste more of her.

Maddie clenched her hands to keep from crying out. Oh, Lord. She rather liked being Lady Blackthorne.

She allowed herself to float freely as his tongue laved her, creating quick, sharp jolts of pleasure that made her jerk, followed by long, languorous strokes of bliss that buzzed through her body. He knew what he was doing, and the tension inside her grew with each touch. His tongue tapped and danced and swirled over her sensitive nub until she couldn't stop herself from crying out.

"More!" she cried, too desperate to be ashamed of her gluttony. "Don't stop."

It seemed every muscle in her body clenched as the pleasure rose. She rose with it, feeling it twirl through her, take her captive, and bind her with its power. The pleasure became so acute it was almost pain, and her whole body shook with it.

And still she wanted more. "Harder!" she cried hoarsely.

And when he obliged her, she convulsed and gave in, crying out.

He caught her and pulled her close to him, holding her tightly as her mind spun. She caught her breath finally, then looked up at him and smiled sheepishly.

"I'm sorry I yelled so loudly." She closed her eyes, embarrassed. "I don't know what came over me."

"I hope it comes over you again," he said, kissing the tip of her nose. "In fact, I'd like to make that happen now."

She was hugging her legs about him again, and he began to kiss her and stroke her body.

"I want you, Maddie. Even more now than before."

"I want you, too," she said between kisses. And, unbelievably enough, it was true. Her body was responding to his touch, becoming tense and expectant once again.

He kissed her cheek, her nose, the column of her neck. "You are so beautiful."

"I'm not."

He met her gaze with those dark smoky eyes. "You are. I wanted you the first time I saw you. I can't believe you're my wife."

Maddie felt her heart lurch, felt something very much like love pour into it, and then she quickly shook her head. These were words of seduction, not love. This was a man who wanted to charm her. She couldn't allow herself to believe his words. If she believed them, she would fall in love with him.

And no matter what else happened in this marriage, she would not fall in love with a man who was so wrong for her. A man she knew would grow to hate her when she refused to allow him to control her.

He cupped her cheeks and looked down at her again. "You're mine," he said, kissing her possessively.

Her breath was stripped away. Lord, she believed he really did find her beautiful. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

She had assumed all along that he wanted Ashley, and yet, he'd never said as much. Other than a boastful comment to his brother, he'd shown no interest in Ashley whatsoever, hadn't even looked back when he'd grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the blacksmith's shop in Gretna.