Forbidden (28 page)

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Authors: Julia Keaton

Tags: #erotica, #historical, #new concepts publishing, #julia keaton

BOOK: Forbidden
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“Be quiet. I won’t listen to you talk
about yourself that way.” Her voice shook.

“I can’t until I can make you
understand. I love you, Jocelyn.” His tongue was on her neck, his
fingers kneading her stomach and Jocelyn whimpered as the heat
spread and bloomed. “I love you. I’ve been inside you.” His fingers
demonstrated and she bucked, “I-I need you to understand what kind
of person I am because I won’t lie to you.” He bit her. “I won’t
lie and have you believe I’m some tortured saint. I want you to
love me, not an idea of me your father weaved with his stories. I’m
a weak person, an evil person, and I need you more than I’ve ever
needed anything in my life.”

They stood there, intertwined, Damon
holding her tight against his body as he pressed kisses against her
skin. He’d slid the chemise off sometime during this speech and his
cock pressed tight against her bare bottom. She shivered, sucked in
a sobbing breath and released the barre to dig her nails in his
arms. She bowed her head over his arms and pushed back against that
betraying hardness.

“Do you remember the first time we
met?”

“Hell, I didn’t think you
remembered.”

“Of course, I did. Papa was downstairs
talking to Uncle Clay and I was sent upstairs to play with Ava. I
saw you in the hallway. You were sitting on the floor, curled in on
yourself and you just looked so … so.…”

He stiffened. “You kissed
me.”

“You proposed.”

“And you said--”

“I said yes.” She leaned her head back
on his shoulder and kissed his chin, tongued it until he groaned,
his neck vibrating against her cheek with the sound. “Why would I
do that do you think?”

“I’m not sure, Princess.”

“I knew who you were then, Damon. I
could see it. You can’t hide the things that happened to you, it
stays in the eyes. I loved you then and I love you now. Do you
understand?”

Damon relaxed, though his grip never
slackened. “I think I’m starting to.”

Then his hands were on her breasts,
squeezing and tugging until her breath exploded on a moan and her
legs went weak. He caught the lobe of her ear between his
teeth.

“Grip the bar, Princess, and don’t let
go.”

When he pinched her nipples and her
hands fluttered helplessly, he gripped her by the wrists and bent
her over until she gripped the barre. He stayed bent over her, his
bare chest pressed tight against her back. Warm, solid, soft;
velvet over steel with the smell of sandalwood and the sea, he
engulfed her and blocked out the world. Her hands tightened over
the bar, her head fell forward so her braid could fall over one
shoulder and she thrust her hips back against him.

He ran his nails from her wrists, up
her arms and across the back of her shoulders. Down her spine to
either hip and around the front of her womb where the muscles there
jerked and spasmed. She held still while he undid himself. Stepped
out of his pants and back against her. She felt him pushing at her
opening, spreading her and she bent over the barre with her breasts
swinging over the other side. He shoved inside of her and she cried
out, her breasts swinging with enough force that her nipples ached.
She felt his palm against the center of her back holding her down,
anchoring her as he slid slowly out to shove forward
again.

Panting, Jocelyn spread her legs for
him and held still. He drove her crazy, she could feel every
thought being driven from her mind in time with his strokes. Feel
every sense outside of him fade away until there was only Damon and
her. Only Damon and Jocelyn. And then there was no Jocelyn, no
Damon, just one being straining madly for completion.

He hit so deep, each stroke sliding
over that perfect spot and sending spots dancing across her eyes.
He slid his hand around her hip, rubbing that nub until it swelled
beneath his rough fingers, sending shivers of pleasure tingling
through her nerves. She pushed up against his hand and wiggled her
hips, tingling all over when he began to chant her name from
between gritted teeth. Their movements were slow at first, careful
and addictive. Until Jocelyn let herself lean further over the bar
and lifted her hips higher. Damon said something in a language she
didn’t understand as he sunk deeper into her wet heat. His began to
shake. Her muscles clenched around him, tried to hold him in each
time he drew out of her body, and she felt his teeth against the
back of her shoulder. She bucked, cried out, and he bit his way
along her spine and the back of her nape. The pain of it made the
pleasure that much sharper, each roll of it larger and more
powerful than the first until her whole body shook with
it.

When Jocelyn’s knees were shaking so
badly that she feared she’d collapse and her hands were in danger
of slipping from the bar with the sweat that coated her skin, Damon
lifted her by the hips until her feet left the ground. He took her
until their shouts broke the relative peace of the island. She
almost reached for him, but when she made as if to do so, his
movements slowed. Slowed but never softened. He hit her hard and
deep and she came, screaming his name, her insides milking and
pulling his release from him. He collapsed onto his back, pulled
her on top of him, and pressing his face against the curve of her
neck, he spilled his seed against the mouth of her womb. It was
hot, strange, and … right.

It was right. This was the first time
they’d ever done this right and Jocelyn felt herself smiling as she
let herself sink completely against him.

Chapter Eleven

Get married. You’re getting old and
with your attitude chances are you’ll be dead soon. So get a wife
my boy, and have children. When you do, be sure to name one of them
after me.... But only the cutest one.

The Captain of the Gentle Marie ordered
the anchor to be dropped when they were finally close enough to
shore. They’d been hitting every island along their original route
and they were nearly ready to turn and head back to Barbados. This
was the last stop on the ridiculously long list and it would have
been done sooner but the storm that day had made it near to
impossible to find where Jocelyn and Damon had been seen going
overboard. He hadn’t had a chance to run his usually routes. The
Holbrookes had paid him well enough that he wasn’t hurting from the
loss. That they didn’t leak the story about him abandoning an
heiress and a former soldier to any of the newspapers was an added
bonus as well as an added incentive to at least come back with
bodies.

He would have searched for them
himself, because of the guilt, only he wouldn’t have gone about it
so … diligently.

Now as he sat at the prow of the boats
and his men rowed them all ashore, he began to wonder what would
happen if he had to tell the Earl of Stanford that he hadn’t been
able to find his only heir and niece. Never mind Ava
Holbrooke.

The thought made him shiver.

They searched the island and he was
close to calling it quits when they came to the opposite side of
the island and saw the rocks. They formed a giant help me message
in the sand and not far off were the remains of a fire. They saw
the longboat, an empty lean-to and other signs that at least
someone was there.

“Captain!” He turned and saw Patrick
running out of the woods. His young face was flushed with
embarrassment and his mouth kept twitching.

“What is it sailor?”

“I uh … I found the girl,
Captain.”

He frowned. “Well is she
alright?”

Patrick laughed. “She’s perfectly fine,
sir. Maybe a bit too fine if you get my meaning.”

He looked over the young man’s shoulder
to see Jocelyn Holbrook as naked as the day she was born and
wrapped in a blanket as she was led carefully through the woods.
She was blushing furiously and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes while
behind her Damon Burleigh scowled and kept jerking out of the grip
of the sailor who was trying to force a flask of water into his
hands.

* * * *

She was ruined, completely and utterly.
But then she hadn’t expected anything less. They took her from
Damon and gave her water there in the Captain’s cabin. She was
checked over by the ship’s doctor and pronounced fit, if
underweight. Then the doctor, a kind older man with bright blue
eyes, questioned her about what Damon had ‘done’ to her. He assured
her that no one would blame her if she told the truth and that if
need be he would be put in the brig so he couldn’t hurt her
anymore.

He looked so earnest and sincerely
worried that Jocelyn had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She
gripped his hands and assured him in no uncertain terms that what
had happened between Damon and herself had been consensual. She was
tempted to provide details but that surge of wickedness so shocked
her that she didn’t get a chance to before the doctor went to
report to the Captain. She was brought a bath, food and water and
then they left her there, wearing one of the dresses that were left
over from their last shipment of clothing to an English
dressmaker.

For the moment she wasn’t allowed to
see Damon and she supposed he was receiving the same treatment she
had been. Jocelyn waited for what seemed like forever but no one
came to take her to Damon. She began to grow worried and getting up
from the table where she’d eaten dinner many months before, she
began to pace. Her legs were already becoming used to the rolling
sway of the ship as they pulled anchor and set off for Barbados
where Ava was waiting. She should go to him. There was really no
reason why she had to wait here but for some reason she had no wish
to fall under the scrutiny of curious sailors. An hour later the
knob turned and she whipped around to find Damon standing in the
doorway, the Captain behind him. He looked solemn, his face set
back into the hard lines she’d worked so hard to ease. He was
dressed in some of the sailors clothes and with his wild hair that
was beginning to touch the collar of his shirt and kept falling
carelessly over his gray eyes, he was simply a hooked hand away
from looking like a pirate.

He was so handsome he made her mouth
water and the Captain’s presence faded away into the
inconsequential. So when he cleared his throat, she jumped and
realized with a shock that she and Damon had been staring at one
another for a while.

“Miss Holbrooke, the doctor tells me
that you and Mr. Burleigh were … intimate during your unfortunate
stay on the island.”

She didn’t blush, though she suspected
that he’d thought she would. But Damon had long gotten her used to
worse.

She nodded and smiled slightly up into
his eyes. “Why yes. The doctor is correct.”

The Captain’s eyes widened and he
looked between her and Damon and cleared his throat. He tried to
look regretful but Jocelyn knew better.

“Well then I’m sorry to say that your
uncle, the Earl--,” This was an obvious reminder for Damon, “--Will
not be happy about this. He’ll demand satisfaction.”

“Let me make this easier for you,
Captain.” Damon sneered at the Captain and moved forward to grip
Jocelyn’s hands. Then, under the shocked gazes of both Jocelyn and
the Captain, he went to one knee.

“Jocelyn Elizabeth Holbrooke, will you
do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

She was crying before she threw her
arms around him and the kisses she showered over his smiling face
said yes more clearly than her voice could have.

* * * *

They were married that afternoon. With
the sun slowly sinking over the horizon it cast an orange, red glow
across everything. She was wearing the blue dress she’d been given
and the sailors made her a veil out of their tied together
handkerchiefs. Damon hadn’t cut his hair because she’d begged him
not to and it whipped like dark, seductive snakes in the wind. His
eyes were painfully gray as he stared down at her, his face relaxed
in happiness, dimple winking each time she brushed against his arm
from the sway of the ship. She was married barefoot, and when Damon
kissed her the world sighed.

It was both less than and much more
than she’d ever imagined her wedding day to be like, and she
couldn’t have been happier.

…Weeping sailors and all.

* * * *

“Joss!”

“Ava!”

There was always so much hugging and
squealing involved when women got together. The sound gave Damon a
headache and he tried not to wince as he stood on the dock and
watched the sisters embrace and bounce to their heart’s content.
The people around smiled at them indulgently until they began to
block the walkway and Damon was forced to push them both out of the
way. He stood silently off to one side, making sure no one came to
close to either girl as they talked in low tones with one another.
He had no desire to chase down pickpockets or beat a sailor with a
good eye for taste and wandering hands.

“You did WHAT!”

Ah, so she’d told her.

His guess was proven right when Ava
stomped up beside him and jerked him around to face her. He already
had a scowl ready on his face for her and she didn’t disappoint in
that department either.

“You married my sister?”

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