Suddenly You (14 page)

Her fingers trembled as she clutched the soft twilled wool of his lapels. This was desire, she thought dimly, and it was a hundred times more powerful than anything she had experienced before. Even on the night he had given her the shatteringly sweet climax that had kindled her senses to a brand-new awareness of pleasure, he had still been a stranger to her. And she was learning that there was a very great difference between wanting an attractive stranger and wanting a man she had come to care about. Through the shared confidences, the debates, the frequent laughter, and the simmering tension, something new had developed between them. Attraction and liking had changed into something dark and elemental.

He'll never be yours,
her heart warned her swiftly.
He will never belong to you. He will never want to marry, or endure any kind of restrictions on his freedom. It will come to an end someday, and you'll be alone again.
She was too much of a realist to avoid the unsettling truth.

But all thought was chased away as his mouth closed over hers. His lips teased, settled, insisting until her own mouth relaxed and opened to him. Her response seemed to cause a small shock within him—she felt the reverberations in his throat and chest, and then the kiss turned harder, deeper, his tongue exploring her in eager surges. The invasion excited her, and she squeezed herself more tightly against him, until the abundant mounds of her breasts were compressed against his chest.

Devlin tore his mouth away from hers as if he could stand no more, his lungs dilating in swift expansions, his hands clamping tightly over her body. “God,” he muttered into the pinned-up curls of her hair. “The way you fill my arms…it makes me insane. You're so sweet…so soft…” He kissed her again, his mouth hot and demanding, feeding on hers as if she were some choice delicacy that he craved. As if he were addicted to her, as if only the taste and texture of her could assuage his violent need. She felt delight coiling in all the tender places of her body, tightening, waiting for the trigger that would release the gathering tension in one ecstatic explosion.

His hands moved over her bodice, fumbling slightly as he searched the panels of corded green silk. The cool flesh of her breasts plumped out over the square neckline, their fullness resisting the tight containment of the gown. He bent and pressed his lips to the deep valley of her cleavage, then spread slow kisses over the revealed skin. Her nipples rose in hard points beneath the gown, and he touched them through the silk fabric, his thumbs rubbing, stroking, his fingers gently plucking. Amanda whimpered in distress, remembering their other time together on her birthday, how her body had been exposed to him in the firelight, the way his mouth had licked and tugged at her bare breast. She wanted that intimacy again, with a desperation that felt like madness.

Devlin seemed to read her mind, for his hand cupped over the rise of her breast and squeezed firmly to ease the yearning ache. “Amanda,” he said hoarsely, “let me take you home tonight.”

Her mind was foggy with sensuality. It took a long time for her to answer. “You've already offered the use of your carriage,” she whispered.

“You know what I'm asking.”

Yes, of course she understood. He wanted to go home with her, and accompany her to her bedroom, and make love in the bed that no one but she had ever slept in. Resting her forehead against his hard chest, Amanda nodded unsteadily. It was time. She understood the risks, the limits, the possible consequences, and she was willing to accept all of that in return for the sheer joy of being with him. One night with him…one hundred…whatever fate allowed her, she would take.

“Yes,” she said into the soft, damp linen of his shirt, where the scent of his skin mingled deliciously with traces of starch and cologne and Christmas greenery. “Yes, come home with me tonight.”

Amanda had little awareness of time for the rest of the evening, only that it seemed to take an eternity for the guests to leave. Finally, weary children were bundled into the waiting carriages by parents flushed with wine and holiday cheer. Couples murmured discreetly in the entranceway, exchanging plans and promises, as well as a few hasty kisses beneath the swag of mistletoe over the door.

Amanda saw very little of Devlin during the last hour of the party, as he was occupied with bidding the guests good-bye and accepting their good wishes. An irrepressible smile edged her lips as she realized what he was doing: subtly ushering the partygoers out the door and to their carriages with all possible speed. Clearly he was eager to be rid of them and alone with her. From the wary glance he directed her way, Amanda guessed that he suspected she might change her mind about her promise.

However, nothing would come between them this evening. She had never felt so undefended and willing and filled with expectation. She waited with forced patience, sitting in a small blue-and-gold parlor and dreamily contemplating the yellow blaze in the marble fireplace. When all the guests were gone and the house bustled with servants cleaning and the musicians were carefully packing away their instruments, Devlin came to her.

“Jack.” His name rose softly in her throat as he sank to his haunches before her and took one of her hands.

The firelight skimmed unevenly over one side of his face, highlighting half his features in brilliant yellow, leaving the rest in shadow. “It's time for you to go home now,” he said, staring at her, not with his usual jaunty confidence or any hint of a smile. Instead, his gaze was intent and arrested, as if he were trying to read her private thoughts. “Do you want to leave alone,” he continued gently, “or shall I accompany you?”

The tip of her gloved finger touched his cheek, where flame-glow touched the closely shaven bristles and turned them to brilliant flecks of gold. She had never seen a mouth as beautiful as his, the upper lip so perfectly shaped, the lower one softer, fuller, containing the promise of carnal delight. “Come with me,” she said.

 

The interior of the carriage was cold and dark. Amanda placed her slippered feet directly on the foot warmer. Devlin's large body settled beside hers, his long legs taking up most of the available space below the seats. He laughed as he saw her greedily absorbing the heat of the coal-filled porcelain box after the footman closed the carriage door with a quiet click.

Devlin slid an arm around Amanda's shoulders, lowering his head to whisper in her ear. “I can make you warm.” The carriage rolled away, jostling slightly as the springs over the wheels absorbed the uneven bumps of the road.

Amanda found herself being lifted effortlessly into her companion's lap.
“Jack!”
she exclaimed breathlessly while he pulled away her burgundy shawl and drew one hand over the back of her gown. He seemed not to hear her, his gaze fastened on the pale gleam of her half-exposed breasts as his other hand expertly found one ankle beneath her skirts.

“Jack!” she gasped again, pushing at his chest, but he exerted enough pressure on her back to cause her to collapse against him.

“Yes?” he murmured, his mouth brushing the soft skin of her throat.

“Not in a
carriage
, for heaven's sake.”

“Why not?”

“Because it's…” The tip of his tongue touched her skin, tickling a sensitive nerve at the side of her throat, and she paused to suppress a little moan of excitement. “Vulgar. Common.”

“Exciting,” he whispered back. “Have you ever thought of making love in a carriage, Amanda?”

She jerked her head back to stare at him in amazement, barely able to see his shadowed face in the dark interior of the vehicle. “Of course not! I can't even imagine how such a thing would be accomplished.” When she saw the white gleam of his teeth, she immediately regretted her words. “No, no, don't tell me!”

“Instead, I'll show you,” he said, murmuring intimate, mortifying things while his fingers worked stealthily at the back of her gown. She felt, from the series of little tugs and the loosening of her bodice, that he was making rapid headway with the garment.

When she had agreed to let him make love to her this evening, she had envisioned a romantic scenario in her own bedroom,
not
in his carriage. He stole kisses from her half-open lips and dragged his mouth along her throat. “Don't,” she moaned. “We're almost there…the footman will know…oh, do stop!”

Jack cuddled her on his lap, staring into her shadowed gray eyes, always so alive with intelligence and challenge. Now the silvery depths were vulnerable, molten, utterly alluring. Excitement caused his heart to pound riotously, the mad pulse concentrating in his loins, bringing his cock to leaping arousal. He wanted to plunge into her, squeeze and bite and lick every tender inch of her.

He took her mouth in an ardent kiss, searching for her tongue, greedily absorbing the delicious taste of her. She responded willingly, letting him kiss her exactly as he wanted, her body arching as he spread the back of her gown open. His hand searched the length of her spine until he encountered the edge of her corset. Impatiently he tugged at the laces until they loosened and the stiff-boned garment relinquished its tight containment of her body. Amanda began to breathe in deep surges as her lungs were liberated from the prison of starch and stays.

Jack peeled the silk dress away from her front, and unhooked the front of the corset. The round shapes of her breasts spilled forth, covered only in the crumpled tissue of her chemise. Blindly he lifted Amanda higher on his lap and searched for the shadow of a nipple, found it, captured and licked and softly bit it through the linen. The sweet crest hardened in his mouth, and each scalding touch of his tongue drew a gasp from Amanda's throat. He pulled at the chemise, felt the delicate fabric tear beneath his fingers, then kept pulling until both her breasts were naked. Groaning, he buried his mouth in the valley between them, cupped his hands beneath the plump weights.

“Jack…” She could barely speak through her shallow, unfinished breaths. “Oh, Jack.”

His avid mouth found her nipple again, his tongue circling the silken tip and lingering at the edge where the crest met the pale skin of her breast. The fragrance of her animated a response so primal that he lost all awareness of the world outside the dark, swaying carriage. Greedily intent on claiming his prey, he slid his hands beneath her skirts and settled her swaying body over his, spreading her thighs so that she straddled him fully.

As he might have expected, Amanda was no passive partner, her mouth entreating his with eager kisses, her hands wandering busily over his chest and midriff. The tightly fitted layers of his clothes and cravat defeated her, and she tugged at them with a moan. “Help me,” she said shakily, fumbling at the waist of his trousers. “I want to touch you.”

“Not yet.” His palms slid over her drawers, finding the curve of her buttocks. “If you touch me now, I won't be able to control myself.”

“I don't care.” She tugged harder and managed to unfasten the top button. “I want to know how you feel…to hold you in my hands…” Her fingers moved over the hard shape that reared beneath the front of his trousers. The slight pressure caused him to jerk and groan. “Besides,” she reminded him breathlessly, “you are the one who started this.”

She was so adorably imperious, so passionate, that Jack felt his heart contract with a feeling he had never known before…a feeling that was too dangerous to examine. “All right, then,” he said, his voice filled with lust and amusement. “Far be it from me to deny you anything you want.”

He brushed aside her exploring hand and deftly unfastened the remaining six buttons. His erection sprang free of the thick, twilled fabric, twitching at the proximity of Amanda's soft female flesh. Jack's hands shook as he fought to control the urge to bring her fully over him and thrust inside her virginal body. Instead, he waited with forced patience, his teeth gritting as her cool fingers settled cautiously on the taut length of him, brushing the silken skin that stretched so tightly over the stiff upthrust of his sex.

“Oh,” she said, her eyes half closing, her hand moving in gentle exploration. “I didn't expect…it's so hot…and the skin is so…”

Jack turned his face to the side, breath hissing through his clenched teeth as he struggled to endure the sensation. He felt Amanda's soft cheek press against his. “Does it hurt when I touch you?” she whispered, her fingers hesitating near the pulsing head of his erection.

“No, God, no…” He let out a shaken laugh that ended in a groan. “It feels good.
Mhuirnin
…you're killing me…you must stop now.” Taking hold of her wrist, he eased her hand away, and reached for the long slit of her drawers. He pulled at the opening until he felt stitches pop, then reached inside with his thumb and grazed the patch of damp red curls.

“My turn,” he murmured, kissing her hot face as he drew his thumb gently into the crevice hidden beneath the curls, repeating the action until the feminine lips were swollen and separated. He felt her thighs tighten around his, and he used his legs to keep hers spread wide, her body rendered open and helpless to his touch.

Locating the entrance to her body, he stroked, teased, until he felt the gathering moisture against his fingertip. Amanda groaned and pressed against his hand, seeking more stimulation. He kept his touch maddeningly light, resting his thumb just above the delicate rise of female flesh that had become swollen and unbearably sensitive. She trembled and writhed as he circled his thumb in tickling swirls.

Carefully he brought their loins together, not penetrating her, just allowing the sensitive underside of his sex to rub into the wet notch between her legs. Each jolt of the well-sprung carriage urged their bodies closer. Jack closed his eyes as the sensation climbed to an excruciating height. He froze with pleasure as his self-control began to shatter. He was going to climax soon…no, he couldn't allow that, not here, not yet. Cursing in his throat, he clutched her round hips in his hands and pushed her back from his straining erection.

“Jack,” she gasped, “I need you…need you…oh, Lord, please—”

“Yes,” he muttered, his entire body stiff and sweating. “I'll give you ease, darling. Soon. But we can wait a little longer,
mhuirnin
…we'll do this properly, in a comfortable bed. I never meant to go this far in the carriage…it's just…I couldn't help myself. Turn around now, and let me fasten your dress—”

“Don't wait,” she said thickly. “I want you now.” She kissed his mouth, using her tongue to taste him, incite him, and his thighs turned to iron beneath her.

“No.” He laughed unsteadily and cupped her face in his hands, brushing kisses against her mouth. “You'll regret it if we don't wait…oh, sweet…let me stop while I'm still able.”

“I've waited thirty years,” she whispered, lurching awkwardly to bring herself over him. “Let me decide when and where. Please. You decide the next time.”

The mention of “the next time,” and the thought of all he was going to do to her, with her, for her, became too much for him to resist. “We shouldn't,” he heard himself saying raspily, even as he reached beneath her skirts and positioned her over his hips.

“I don't care. Do it now…now…” Her words dissolved in a low moan as she felt his thumb teasing her once more, while his middle finger slid inside her.

Jack stared into the drowsy gray softness of her eyes, watched her lashes lower as the color of passion ascended her cheeks. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, his chest, and she pushed closer to him, gasping, and he felt the hot interior of her body tightening around the gentle invasion of his finger. Her mouth sought his, and he kissed her as deeply as she wanted, slowly plunging his tongue in rhythm with the thrust of his finger, using all his skill to bring her closer, closer.

A shaken sound escaped her, and then a moan, and she clutched him tightly as an intense climax streaked through her. She shivered, arched, crushed herself against him, while her sheath contracted in sinuous ripples. Murmuring low in his throat, Jack withdrew his finger and positioned her over his aching sex. He teased the wet opening to her body with the head of his shaft, circling, nudging, and Amanda pressed down on him eagerly. She caught her breath at the first pain of his entry, but her body continued to push downward until he finally penetrated her with one sure thrust.

Jack tilted his head backward, eyes closed, his forehead drawn in a fierce frown. The feminine weight of her pressed on his thighs, while her body held his in a snug clasp. The pleasure of it was too great to bear. He couldn't think or speak, couldn't form her name. He could only sit there while sensation glided over him in relentless waves. He felt Amanda lean forward, her parted lips touching his exposed throat where the pulse throbbed beneath his jaw. Her tongue brushed his skin in dainty exploration, and he breathed harshly. His hips lifted against hers, his cock nudging deeper inside her, and her sheath squeezed tightly in response. He heard his own full-throated cry as he drove in the final thrust of release, straining and shuddering in ecstasy. Finally able to move, he clutched her head in his hands, devouring her, aware that his kisses were probably bruising her tender mouth, but she didn't seem to mind.

The sound of their labored breathing was slow to diminish. Jack held Amanda against his chest, resting his large hand over her rumpled hair while the other moved in circles over her naked back. She shivered at the contrast between the cool air and his warm hand. He muttered a curse and fumbled with the back of her corset, realizing that the carriage was slowing.

“Dammit. Dammit. We're there now.”

Amanda remained relaxed and pliant against him, not seeming to share his sudden urgency. Languidly she reached over and latched the door. When she spoke, her voice was thick and husky. “It's all right, Jack.”