Emily's Seduction (3 page)

Her gown gaped away and, with a few more tugs, fell to the floor. Her petticoats and chemise followed. Being so small breasted, she rarely bothered with stays and so she stood naked except for her stockings and garters. Her nipples pulled themselves into even tighter buds under his appreciative gaze.

Oh soon, very soon.

He placed his hands on her bare waist and she knew he was going to pick her up and carry her to the bed. And she wanted to go there, couldn’t wait to feel his body on hers… In fact, she was trembling with the eagerness for him to thrust his hardness within her but she wanted something more.

“No, no,
no
.” She laughed and grasped his lapels. “I will not be the only one unclothed.”

He pulled away and looked down at her, his eyes dark periwinkle and heavy-lidded with desire. “Getting bossy now, are we?”

“Perhaps.”

He laughed, hooking a finger into his cravat and tugging the knot free. “You’re going to pay a price for making me wait.”

“Shall I?” she asked, undoing his waistcoat buttons.

“Aye, you shall.”

Her belly fluttered with anticipation. She paused with her fingers on the first button of his fall and looked up at him through her lashes. “Maybe you’ll be the one to pay the price.”

A tolerant smile spread over his thin yet sensual lips. “Oh, you are definitely getting above yourself lately.”

He brushed her hands aside and made far quicker work of the buttons than she ever could. If he stripped his clothes off, it was because he wished to and for no other reason. She could sauce him all she wanted but he always remained in control and she wanted it no other way.

Naked, he was tall, broad-shouldered with a wide, well-muscled chest that tapered into a narrow waist and hips, all covered in a fine dusting of pale gold hair. She never tired of staring at his body.

He came to her and put his hands on her. This time she didn’t stop him, she let him sweep her off her feet and carry her to the bed. He laid her down and her bare skin touched the soft velvet spread. She watched as he bent and retrieved his cravat.

He returned to her. “If I am naked, your hands are going to be tied. You are not going to rake me up like you did before.”

She felt her eyes widen.
Tie her?
He’d never actually tied her before. He’d held her down while fucking her, left her gown halfway down so she couldn’t move her arms, but he’d never outright tied her. A pleasurable chill chased down her spine but still she wasn’t quite sure she ought to let him tie her down. “No, no, I’ll be good.”

“Will you?”

She nodded avidly. “Yes, I promise.”

“I don’t think you can be. Promise or not.” Alex stretched over her, the fine blond hair on his body tickling hers, his powerful, hard-muscled strength pressing her down.

Her nipples beaded tighter and her cunt overflowed with wetness. She loved to feel him upon her like this. It made her feel utterly vulnerable in a delicious sort of a way.

He took her wrists and brought them together. Then he wrapped the folded linen around them. Her heart began to beat very fast. He really meant to do it. She sucked in her breath and looked into his face. The desire, the love she saw there made her go weak all over. She trusted him completely. She’d allow this because he wanted it. He rose up and drew her arms above her head and there was slight tugging again. Then he moved back, lowered his head and his lips touched hers, tenderly.

Instinctively, she tried to touch his head, to stroke his golden hair. Her arms wouldn’t budge. Her heart sped again on a dizzying spiral of beats. She tugged at her hands once more. No luck. He had lashed her to the spindles of the headboard. She was helpless to his will. A rush of panic made her breath quicken and her mouth went completely dry. But she trusted him, so she laughed against his lips at the sudden exhilaration of her body’s responses.

Alex raised his head then kissed a trail over her throat and collarbone down to her breasts.

“You have the prettiest little tits.” He kissed her small, pebbled pink nipples one after the other. “And lovely little nipples.”

He lingered for a time, touching, kissing and tonguing her breasts in skilled ways that brought her unbearable bliss, the reverberations reaching down into her belly and making her cunt contract. She couldn’t keep herself from pulling against her bonds. Now that she couldn’t touch him, she wanted to all the more. His large hands caressed her stomach and hips while he suckled her taut peaks.

He kissed his way down to place his tongue in her navel. His fingers trailed along the edges of her quim. She caught her breath. Oh, yes, if only he would hurry and stop teasing her. She really didn’t need coaxing. She’d been ready in the carriage and having his cock in her mouth—tasting his seed—had only increased her desire.

He parted her to expose the tender folds within then lowered his head and traced them with his lips, working his way slowly up to her nub. He flicked it with warm, wet strokes of his tongue.

He stopped and looked up, his eyes meeting hers.

“You taste of peaches and warm summer rain,” he said in reverent, husky tones.

He bent again and took her erect pearl into his mouth and drew on it lightly at first. She whimpered with pleasure and arched her pelvis, seeking greater stimulation. He gave it, suckling on her more firmly. She moaned, her tension rising and rising, her hips bouncing on the bed. Oh, God, he could make her come quickly. It would only take a few more strokes of his clever tongue. The first tugging pull of her orgasm began and she closed her eyes and moaned, waiting for it to wash over her.

He stopped and the urgent, impending sensation faded away.

She whimpered and tossed her head. It was so unfair when he did that. She opened her eyes.

He was staring at her. Not at her face but at her body. Taking his time and letting his gaze move over her slowly. “God, you’re beautiful like this.”

She thrashed in her bonds. Didn’t he realise she was afire and likely to die from the sheer torment?

He touched her entrance and slid one finger in. She contracted around it. He withdrew then immediately plunged two fingers in, their way made easy by how very wet she was. The fullness was pure relief. She moaned and rocked her hips. He hooked his fingers and explored along her inner, upper wall until he touched that one special spot that sent hot, honeyed pleasure thrumming through her deepest core. She drew her knees up and pressed her feet to the bed.

“You like that, my beautiful darling?”

“Yes, yes, yes,
God, yes!
”

He worked his fingers back and forth. She bit her lip and closed her eyes. There was more than one way to come. He’d shown her that. This way was deeper, sweeter. Her body trembled with the impending storm.

He stopped again.

She lay gasping and straining in the bonds. “Alex?”

He blew warm air over her aching heat. Blood surged into her nub, making it more erect than ever. “Please, Alex, please.”

“When you’re truly ready—not a moment before.”

“Why must you”—she gasped for breath—“torture me like this?”

He touched her idly, too lightly to do anything but drive her desire higher. “I have told you before.” He grinned. “Because it pleases my vanity to hear you plead.”

“One would think your vanity should be satisfied long ere now.”

“The male vanity knows no limits. You should know this. You were kept far too sheltered.”

She twisted against the ties on her wrists. “Then you should take pity on me. I am not equipped to deal with men.”

“Oh, you’re equipped, believe me. You keep me constantly hungering to be buried in your hot, tight depths.” He sank his fingers back in.

She moaned and closed her eyes. This time the motion of his fingers was too shallow, not strong enough. She wasn’t even close to coming now yet she ached worse than before. A soft wail sounded in her ears.

He withdrew his fingers. The bed rocked and his thighs brushed hers, urged them apart. Warm silken hardness touched her nub, caressing her oversensitive flesh in slow circles.

“Alex!” The word was both a plea and a protest.

He slid to her entrance. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes, yes, God. Please, Alex, please.”

He pressed down; the head of his cock stretched her. Longing consumed her and she bit on her lip. He entered a slight way. The powerful muscles in his torso were rigid against her, telling her how much he was holding himself back. “Shall I fuck you now?”

“Yes, please, yes!”

He sank in swiftly. She cried out. He pulled all the way out then plunged again and she cried out even louder. Her cunt contracted around him and he groaned.

“You are hot, tight perfection.”

She wrapped her legs snugly about his waist, squeezing him. “Fuck me. Oh, please, fuck me.”

He growled low in his throat and then began fucking her almost savagely. Her hips danced frantically to meet his downwards thrusts, their joined bodies making wet noises. His lower pelvis grazed her nub with each movement. Her tension drew tighter and tighter then with her legs, she gripped him harder and her inner walls spasmed over and over and over, releasing torrents of pleasure. She came so hard, so long; she thought she might die of it. She didn’t care. White lights seemed to explode in her mind. She screamed his name.

* * * *

Her body still pulsed and ticked at its core as she sponged herself at the washstand behind the screen for delicacy’s sake. The steam coming off the basin of very warm water smelt of gillyflowers and heightened her sense of well-being. She couldn’t wait to fling herself back into Alex’s arms. As she came from behind the screen, he caught her about the waist, his strong arm locking about her like iron. She squealed, the sound high-pitched and echoing in the chamber.

He kissed her neck, his lips fastening on her sensitive flesh and sucking. Tingles radiated all along her; gooseflesh rose in all directions. Her nipples pulled tight and she laughed with the sensation.

“God, you taste sugar-sweet.” He refastened his lips and drew harder.

“Don’t make a mark!” she said, her laughter making it hard to push the words out.

“You’re just getting a rest now, my lusty nymph. A brief one.” He let her go but gave her bottom a smack before she could get away from him.

“Zachariah better bring a large bag of art supplies,” she said, only half jokingly.

He began to retrieve his scattered clothing. As he lifted his jacket off the floor, a letter dropped out of the pocket.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing.

He looked down at the red and blue patterned rug then picked it up and stared at it. “Oh, yes, it came right before Nicolo arrived.”

She considered the heavy, expensive-looking ivory vellum and the grand wax seal. “It looks important.”

He examined the seal. “It’s from Sexton. It’s business and can wait.”

“Well, I would hate to be the cause of you losing thousands.”

He glanced up at her. “Aye, especially since you are to be my wife.”

She laughed then pranced naked to the bed and sprang herself across it face down with her arse poised for his pleasure. She glanced back and smiled at him. He wasn’t looking. His gaze was fixed on the letter, his brows drawn tightly together.

She grasped the pillow, pulled it under her upper body and hugged it. “Oh, go on, open it. I shall wait. It will give me practice at being a good and patient wife.”

* * * *

Alex tore open the seal and folded out the letter. He skimmed over the salutation but his attention was drawn back to the paleness of Emily’s arse against the dark green coverlet. She writhed and wiggled, playing the shameless tease. The beginnings of desire tingled through his loins. Christ, no one could rouse him like she could. He was going to put the letter down, and then he was going to top her just like that and hold her body still to the bed—and plunge his cock into her tight, wet heat. This time he was going to make her come until she begged him to stop—

His gaze caught one word.

Elise
.

His heart stopped.

Aimee’s ship.

He scanned lower, his gaze jumping around the page as words leapt out from the text.

English privateers
—
Jamaica
—
No further details at this time.

His mouth went dry and his heart pounded into life again with dizzying speed.

“What’s wrong? Has someone died?” Emily’s voice cut into his thoughts, confusing him.

He forced his eyes and thoughts back to the letter.

She was at his side, laying a hand on his arm. “What is it?”

He touched her cheek. “Please, my love, I am trying to read.”

“But you’ve gone so pale. What is it?”

He could never tell her about Aimee, not without telling all of it—all of the horrors he’d known and the anguished choices he’d been forced to make—and that he would never, ever do. He would not spoil her sweetness, her fresh innocence, with his tarnished past.

He smiled. “I lost badly on an investment in a voyage. It’s nothing to worry yourself over.”

So now he was starting to lie to her. Something he’d sworn he wouldn’t do.

Her lush lashes swept over her eyes and a small smile curved her mouth. “I’ll wait for you, then.”

Her ready trust put a sick feeling into his stomach.

“No,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “Please dress yourself. I need to see to this business as soon as possible.”

* * * *

In the carriage, Alex was silent and tense. He was hiding something. This was no loss on a voyage. She’d known it the moment he’d given her the smile. Not the open, tender smile that was hers alone but the glib, charming smile he used to ease his way with others. He’d lied to her. Freely. And now his secret pulsed on the air between them as if it were a living thing.

This secret had made Green hate Alex with insane passion. He had threatened to spread baseless rumours about Emily’s sea captain father having traded slaves from Africa. He had even abducted her to lure Alex to his offices, perhaps intending to murder him. But Green had killed himself instead.