The Bride of Devil's Acre (17 page)

The room itself was large with a massive four-poster bed, dressing room, sitting room, and a separate room for bathing with a large, claw-footed tub set before a second fireplace.

Devil let his wife look a moment before letting go of her legs, slowly sliding her down his front and setting her on her feet. The moment drew her eyes back to his face. She was tall for a woman, her head coming to his chin. It made it easy to tip her face up to his for another kiss.

This kiss was sweeter, softer than the one before, but no less devastating. The hands that cradled Jacqueline’s face were gentle, and his lips begged, rather than demanded, to enter.
 

Devil nipped at his wife’s bottom lip, tugging gently before licking the sting away. She opened for him, and his gut tightened. He could spend eternity drinking from her lips, he realized, exploring her mouth and becoming intoxicated.

Jacqueline fisted her husband’s hair, rising on tiptoe to get closer. Strong hands wrapped around her waist, slowly walking her backward as the kiss turned hungry. They were headed for the bed, she realized, anticipation unfurling in her belly.

Jacqueline tore her mouth away. “Devil, wait, I—”
 

Devil kept walking, eyes locked.
 

The bed loomed behind Jacqueline. “I…I…I’ve never…”

Devil stopped, his hands still wrapped around his wife’s narrow waist. She was small, his fingers nearly touching where they spanned her back. “You’ve never made love?”

Jacqueline shook her head. “Not willingly,” she whispered. She dropped her eyes and confirmed what only her father and Emme knew to be true.

Devil put his finger beneath his wife’s chin, tipping her face back to look at him. “We can take it slow,” he promised, “and stop whenever you want.”

It was a generous offer. Desire for his wife was riding him hard, and it was an offer he hoped he would be able to keep.

Jacqueline searched her husband’s face. His features were harsh, edged with a desire that was as thrilling as it was terrifying. She’d never seen her attacker’s face, but she remembered the sick hunger that had seeped from him as he forced his way into her body. She tried to block the memories that were swirling up from the depths, but they came unbidden, drawn to the surface by the reality of what she was about to do.

Devil sensed she was on the verge of calling a halt and retreating to her room. Like his offer to accompany him to Purgatory, he knew that if they stopped now, the chance might never come again —his wife forever locked in the fear of her past.

Slowly so as not to scare her, Devil lowered his head, recapturing her mouth and sinking them into another kiss. He took her over slowly, carefully controlling their descent into passion. His body strained, but he resisted the urge to press closer, waiting for some subtle signal that his wife was ready for more.

The kiss went on, and on, and on, Devil apparently satisfied with kissing her senseless next to the bed. His hands were hot around her waist, but he made no move toward the bed. Fear quickly turned into frustration as her body grew restless, and he just kept kissing her. Unsure what else to do, Jacqueline eased closer to her husband.

Devil shuddered as his wife wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself up onto her toes and crushing her breasts between them. This time, she made no move to stop him as he walked her back toward the bed, shedding his coat and tugging his cravat loose along the way.
 

Jacqueline helped him, hands shaking as she slipped the buttons of his shirt free, parting the halves and tentatively running her palms across his chest. Meanwhile, his hands were in her hair, scattering pins and letting it fall down her back. When finally her husband broke the kiss, Jacqueline got her first look at him.
 

Devil felt his wife’s eyes on him, a caress that spanned the width of his shoulders and followed the line of his ribs.
 

“You’re beautiful,” Jacqueline whispered, in awe. Wide shoulders, smooth chest, and a light dusting of dark hair that started at his navel and disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. Following the trail of hair with her eyes, Jacqueline had the sudden desire to see where the trail ended.

Devil hardened under his wife’s heated gaze. Her eyes wandered lower, growing wide as they landed on the front of his trousers. His arousal was obvious, and he decided to leave his trousers on, for now.

“My turn,” Devil murmured, reaching for his wife.
 

Jacqueline allowed herself to be undressed, each piece of clothing removed in due time and with surprising deliberateness. Her husband’s face was a mask of concentration, even as the man went down onto his knees, his hands slipping under her chemise to remove her stockings.
 

“What are you thinking?” Jacqueline asked, crossing her arms over her breasts.

Devil looked up at his wife. The room around them was dark, the only light from the moon glowing through an open window. She reminded him of a goddess with her ample curves and hair flowing free. She had covered her breasts with her arms, not knowing that she succeeded only in accenting the generous mounds. “That undressing you is like unwrapping a birthday present with a surprise waiting inside.”

Jacqueline’s lips formed a silent
oh
. She had no idea her husband could be so poetic.
 

“May I see the rest?”

Jacqueline nodded, her cheeks heating as she unfolded her arms.

Devil gathered the delicate material of her chemise in his hands, slowly drawing it up her thighs and pulling it over her head.
 

Jacqueline crossed her arms again, blushing furiously.

Enchanted, Devil watched his wife’s blush spread across her chest, turning the tops of her breasts pink. He was still on his knees, her breasts and belly nearly at eye level.

Devil frowned when he saw the small square bandage taped to the flat of her stomach. Reaching for her, he was surprised when she jerked away.

“Don’t.” Jacqueline didn’t want him to see the scars. No longer concerned with covering her breasts, she pressed her hands to the bandage, securing it in place.
 

Devil flashed back to the cellar, Jacqueline sprawled on her back with blood seeping down her sides. He hadn’t given it much thought at the time, chalking it up to the loss of her innocence. “What happened?”

Jacqueline shivered at the cold edge of violence she heard in her husband’s whispered question. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me. I want to know what the bastard did to you.”

“Why? What are you going to do? He’s dead.” Jacqueline muttered the words without emotion.

“I’d like to find him and kill him again.” Devil remembered the feel of slicing Carver’s throat. At the time, it had seemed like the expedient thing to do, a quick solution to an obvious problem. Now, he wanted to go back and take the time to make the man suffer.

Jacqueline frowned down at her husband as he glared at the bandage covering her stomach. “Could you do that? If he were still alive, could you find out who he was?”

Devil’s eyes shot to his wife’s face. Too late. He realized the danger in going down this road. “Would you want me to?”

Jacqueline was silent for a long moment. “No. I want to put the past behind me and get on with my life.”

Hiding his relief, Devil reached for his wife, wrapping his hands around her waist and turning her back to face him. “I won’t have anything between us,” he said, ruthlessly ignoring his own secrets. Maybe someday he would tell her…

Jacqueline strained against letting him see, struggling to hold on even as he forced her hands aside and pulled off the bandage.

Devil forced himself not to react to the three symbols carved into his wife’s skin. Time had passed, and they were healing, the skin pink and healthy. Devil bent his head and pressed a kiss to each one.

“Devil,” Jacqueline whispered, tears thickening her throat.

“These are nothing,” Devil whispered fiercely.

“They’re ugly.”

“We all have ugly things in our past,” he told her, moving to press a kiss on the unmarred side of her stomach. Her flesh quivered, the muscles twitching beneath his lips.
 

Jacqueline twisted her wrists free, but instead of pushing him away, she slid her fingers in her husband’s hair and pulled him closer. “Thank you,” she whispered, his unconditional acceptance a balm to her wounds.

Devil pressed a last kiss to his wife’s belly. Gaining his feet, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Still wearing his trousers, he stretched out beside her, satisfied when she turned into his arms.
 

This time it was Jacqueline who led them in the kiss, her hands sweeping over her husband’s chest as she sought to know the contours of him. Their lips met and parted, tongues tasting each other before sliding away to taste newly exposed skin.
 

The room grew warm as their bodies pressed close together, and Devil finally slipped out of his trousers. Free from all restraint, his arousal stood hard and erect, throbbing in time to his heartbeat. Rolling Jacqueline onto her back, Devil kneed her legs apart and settled himself between her thighs.
 

Jacqueline gasped, her head going back at the hard press of her husband against her core. A spike of fear threatened to clear the haze of desire, but she ruthlessly pushed it away. Devil’s mouth was hot against her neck, his lips nibbling down the line of her throat to her collarbone. He slipped from her arms, lowering his head and nuzzling her breast.

His wife’s skin was soft and sweet against his lips, the delicate curve of her breast drawing the attention of his mouth. The flesh here was softer, and the underside of her breast salty with the tinge of sweat.
 

He took his time licking his way up to her nipple and was pleased to see the tender nub already hard and throbbing. Circling it with his tongue, he drew her gently into his mouth and sucked.

Jacqueline moaned in a low and husky voice that was completely foreign to her, as was the sensation emanating in her breast and radiating down into her center.
 
Heat pooled in her belly, and each draw of her husband’s mouth tugged at something lower and started it throbbing.

Devil shifted, rolling his hips and sliding his shaft along the outside of his wife’s core. A groan escaped him, and he shuddered.
 

Thank God
, was his first thought at finding her hot and wet, her nether-lips already parted in preparation for his entry. He worried about hurting her, and
 
he wanted to make it good for her. He could never erase the memory of what Carver had done, but perhaps he could replace it with new memories of pleasure.

Slipping his hand between them, Devil parted his wife’s folds, finding the nub of her desire and stroking her with long fingers.

Jacqueline gasped, her body shuddering and going taut. A spike of pleasure speared her core, and spread out to infuse her limbs. She’d never felt anything like it, had never been touched or caressed in such an intimate manner.
 

Jacqueline was on the verge of something, something more, but she didn’t know what. “Devil. Devil, please,” she begged, her world spiraling down to the space between her legs.
 

Devil released his wife’s nipple, lifting his head and watching her face. Her head was back, eyes closed, and her lips were parted. Her chest heaved, her breasts rising and falling in a tantalizing rhythm as he stroked her. He was tempted to take her ripe nipple in his mouth again, but he wanted to watch her face as she came for the first time.

“Let go,” he urged, sliding a finger inside of her. Sweat broke out on his forehead. “So tight.”

Jacqueline didn’t hear him, the pleasure building as he invaded her body, pressing the heel of his hand to her and stroking her passage.

Devil worked another finger inside, curling them both and cupping her gently. Her body bucked, and her back arched beneath him.
 

She was close.
 

He could feel his wife starting to tighten, her body growing taut, and urged her on with steady touches and softly whispered words.

Jacqueline’s body contracted, her knees drawing together and squeezing her husband’s hips as the pleasure continued to build. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, the release came, ripping from her core and radiating outward in ripples of pleasure.

Devil gentled his touch, stroking her through the last of her release. Only then did he rise up onto his knees, bracing his hands beside her head and positioning himself at her entrance.
 

“Open your eyes,” he told her. “I want you to watch me as I make love to you.”

Jacqueline lifted her lids with considerable trouble, the world slowly coming into focus. Her husband was braced above her, his face set in harsh lines of desire.
 

“Thank you,” she whispered, her arms heavy as she reached to cup his face.

“Don’t thank me, yet. We’re not done.”

Devil was poised at his wife’s entrance, slick heat scalding the head of his arousal as he pressed forward. Slow, small increments at a time, he sheathed himself in her body, watching her face for signs of distress.
 

Jacqueline felt her body stretch to accommodate her husband. She braced for the pain, her hands gripping Devil’s shoulders, but it never came. There was just the sensation of being full, of being joined to another human being in the most intimate way possible.
 

Devil pulled back to her entrance. “God, you feel good,” he groaned, her passage gripping at him and her body objecting to his leaving.
 

“So do you,” Jacqueline whispered, watching her husband’s eyes close. He slid forward again, his body straining under her hands. Instinctively, her hips lifted, meeting his downward thrust.

Devil felt his control slip as his wife started moving beneath him. Together, they picked out a rhythm, their bodies rising and falling together. There was barely a breath between them. Eyes locked, they shared air tasting of their combined desire as skin slid over flesh.