The Patriot's Conquest (22 page)

What in the name of the Almighty was he doing? Falling in love with her? He sucked in a quivering breath. Love was for addle-minded fools who let a woman steal their hearts. He’d done it once before with Caroline. Never again could he fully trust a woman. Not even his own wife.

With his thumb and forefinger, Jeffrey pinched out the candle. It was a thought best left for later. Right now, in the cover of darkness, he only wanted to hold Amanda in his arms and feel her safe as he slept.

A
MANDA WOKE TO
find a hard male body tangled with hers. Half-asleep, she struggled with her surroundings and turned to meet Jeffrey’s solemn gaze. She felt hard muscle and sinew and realized with some embarrassment she’d tucked her leg firmly between his thighs. Married. In Jeffrey’s bed. She remembered his tender affection and the way he’d soothed away her nightmares.

“Morning, Mandy,” he said softly, brushing her tousled hair back from her face. The caress made her sigh with contentment.

“Any more nightmares, sweet?”

“Nay, all gone now.”

He nestled closer, continuing to stroke her hair. She felt the hardness of his male member prod her belly.

“Jeffrey,” she squealed.

Her husband gave a wry smile. “’Tis a morning affliction of most men. One I hope to indulge with my pretty wife.”

She gave him an arch look. “After last night, I thought your affliction would go away.”

“You’ve much to learn about me, Mandy. I could take your lovely body many times a day and still not be satisfied.”

Suspicious, she narrowed her gaze. “How many times?”

He lifted those broad shoulders in an indifferent shrug. “Ten to twenty.”

“’Tis not humanly possible!”

“Shall we find out?”

The warmth of his teasing smile melted her. He kissed her lightly, and then cupped her breast, his fingers gently rubbing her tightening nipple. The space between her legs pulsed with sensation, but Amanda drew away, remembering what completed this ritual.

Instantly he stopped, giving her a concerned look. “Are you still sore from last night, sweet?”

She flushed. Such an intimate question. “Nay.”

Jeffrey kissed her again, continuing his slow assault on her body. Amanda arched with pleasure as he caressed and stroked her. Then Jeffrey mounted her, pressing her into the feather mattress. She tensed, waiting for the pain. To her surprise, he slid into her much easier, his member stretching her but not hurting.

Raising his head, he gazed down at her, his expression tender. “’Tis much better, Mandy? I have no desire to hurt you. Tell me to stop and I shall.”

“Nay, do not stop, ’tis pleasant.”

He began to move, slowly, thrusting deep inside her and then out.

She curled her hands around his neck, explored the breadth of his strong back. He groaned as he moved inside her, increasing the pace and rhythm and she curved her hips up to meet his pace. Her hands roamed across his back, feeling muscle and sinew bending and flexing. Amanda curled her legs around his waist, gasping as he slid across a very tender spot.

She bit her lip. ’Twas not proper, this feeling, so lovely...  No proper lady would ever feel this way. The incredible pleasure built and built in her as he stroked deeper and harder. A low scream rose in her throat. She writhed beneath his heavy weight, half-mad with aching need.

“Mandy, don’t hold back, sweet. Don’t resist it. Let it flow over you. Come now, I want you to feel the same pleasure I do,” Jeffrey whispered into her ear. He laced his fingers through hers. He rocked his hips skillfully, in slow deliberate strokes, making her yearn and strain when he eased nearly all the way out.

She arched her back as her entire body grew taut. Her breath came in rapid, ragged pants. The fire burst into an inferno raging through her whole body and she cried out his name in startled wonder, her body shaking fiercely.

Then her husband gave one tremendous thrust forward and groaned, filling her with his seed as he collapsed atop her.

Jeffrey raised himself up on his elbows and regarded her, then brushed a soft kiss on her chin. He rolled off her, giving a low chuckle as he caressed her cheek.

“Jeffrey,” she gasped as her body gradually slowed its trembling. “It happened again.”

He chuckled against her throat. “Aye, it did,” he said softly with a note of masculine pride. “Such passion, my Mandy. I knew it hid deep inside you. Your body was made to be loved by a man. I sensed it from the time we first kissed.”

Loved. Jeffrey did not love her. He desired her, wanted her fiercely, but he did not love. Amanda turned over, her heart twisting. Her own passions had damned her to this marriage. Love was for simpering fools, her mother had declared. Wealth and security in a marriage mattered more. Now Amanda had neither love nor status.

Passion had ruined her reputation in England, and now trapped her into marrying Jeffrey. Real ladies, her mother had informed her, did not let passion rule them. They did not enjoy themselves. Certainly they did not scream or writhe with pleasure. Only strumpets did.

Jeffrey nestled against her back and draped a muscled arm around her waist. He cupped her breast, circling the nipple with lazy swirls, making heat pool again between her legs. She hated the fact he owned her body and had every right to coax her into this sinful pleasure.

“’Tis not right,” she muttered. “A lady shows no such passion.”

“Mandy, ’tis most certainly right,” he said gently. “We are married now and there is no shame in how you feel. I want you to feel pleasure. You’ll learn to accept my kisses and caresses as natural. You’ll see there is no shame in it.”

Not bloody likely, she thought. Not bloody likely at all.

He simply could not get enough of her.

Jeffrey had thought once he’d made love to Amanda, his desire would fade. Yet lovemaking had the opposite effect. It made him into a starving man who’d finally sat down to a feast and needed more, always more.

Two days later, he walked into the kitchen as Amanda helped Sadie cook dinner. He’d spent the morning tending the animals and going over the farm’s accounts. Every time he dipped quill into the ink stand and scribbled numbers, they danced before his eyes. All he could see was his beautiful Mandy, her lush body stretched out in bed, her arms eagerly reaching out for him.

Heat from the roaring fire brought a lovely flush to her high cheeks. Her lower lip pouted as she sliced vegetables. Amanda had offered to help Sadie. His wife amazed him. Once he’d thought her a haughty, spoiled aristocrat afraid to soil her hands. Now he knew she had a kind, nurturing temperament beneath her cool British reserve. And her passion in bed—another layer of the woman he was determined to peel back.

She rested the knife on the table and sighed deeply, her bodice rising until he could see the shadows between her breasts. Pulse racing, Jeffrey’s desire mounted. He wanted her now with an intensity that shook his tightly maintained control.

“Mandy,” he said in a pleasant tone, stretching out his hand to her. “Come with me.”

She glanced up. “Jeffrey, can this wait? I’m helping Sadie.”

“No, it cannot.”

Amanda wiped her hands, removed her apron. She took his hand, two deep lines furrowing her brow as they entered the house. He tugged her up the stairs.

“Jeffrey, is there something that you...”

When he opened the bedroom door, she hung back.

“Here? Now? ’Tis not even twilight.”

Jeffrey glanced out the window. “’Tis twilight somewhere.”

He kicked the door shut and pulled her into his arms. Cupping her head, he devoured her mouth in a fevered kiss, seeking the sweetness of her lips. Jeffrey thrust his tongue between the seam of her lips, the action mimicking what would soon transpire between her legs.

Amanda moaned and opened her mouth, accepting his tongue and holding him close. Lord he felt as randy and out of control as a stripling youth with his first bedding.

Jeffrey turned her around, unfastening her gown with trembling fingers. Never had he felt this kind of frenzied need. His blood sang in his veins with a primitive male need to bond her body to his. He wanted to wrap himself around her like a hot, tight blanket. Her gown dropped to the floor. Jeffrey stared at her stays with raging frustration as he crossed to her front. Amanda sighed, unfastened them and pulled them off, then removed her shift. He shucked his clothing and captured her in his arms.

He kissed her deeply, then traced his lips down her pale, slender neck. She arched back, whimpering with pleasure as his hand cupped her feminine flesh and he began to caress her in long, slow strokes. Warm moistness flowed under his expert touch. Blood surged thickly through his veins at her tiny, excited cries.

“Jeffrey, ’tis...”

“Shhhh, sweet,” he said huskily. He lifted her left leg high, then impaled her, thrusting upward in one swift penetrating move. Wet, tight warmth surrounded him. Jeffrey closed his eyes, savoring the sensation. He couldn’t wait. Desire surged through him, fogging his mind, making him forget everything except thrusting deep inside her. Cupping her soft rounded bottom, he lifted and carried her to the wall..

Supporting her lovely bottom with his hands, he began thrusting hard and heavy. Amanda wrapped her hands around his muscled neck, her whimpers of excitement and hot breath against his ear assuring him she enjoyed this equally.

It felt so damn good. Jeffrey closed his eyes and pumped his hips upward in furious rhythm.

Panting, he drove into her as she dug her fingers into his shoulders. Then he twisted his hips and moved in a way he knew would heighten her pleasure. Amanda screamed and raked her nails down his back. Through the red haze of lust, Jeffrey grunted in satisfaction, proud of her unleashed passion.

His excitement mounted further as a scream ripped from her throat and her passage tightened around him convulsively. An outrageous inclination surged through him to throw back his head and howl with possessive pride. He felt his own release building and growing until finally it griped him and he let loose a great, shuddering yell as he pumped himself into his wife.

The man was insatiable. Amanda’s limbs felt like melted tallow candles as Jeffrey kissed her gently, untangled himself and then lifted her into his arms. With one hand, he impatiently tore the covers off the bed, then set her down. Opening one eye, she glanced up at him.

“Is it not a little late for this? The bed, I mean.”

He chuckled, smoothing back her hair. “’Tis for a bit of rest Mandy. I can still feel you trembling.”

Flipping over on her stomach, she buried her face into the pillow. She felt his weight press into the mattress. The soft cool spine of a book rested against her own spine.

“Jeffrey, what are you doing?”

“Reading to you. I’ve a mind for poetry.”

“But dinner...”

“Sadie has it under control. Rest here a while and listen.
The Spring
by Thomas Carew. One of my favorites.” He cleared his throat and began to read.

Enchanted by his husky recitation of Carew’s poem of rebirth and renewal, she lay drowsing upon the bed. Jeffrey’s deep melodious voice brought to life the buds upon the trees, the grass reaching for the sun’s caress. Halfway through she felt a sudden chill brush her naked flesh as he talked of the poet’s love who had “June in her eyes, in her heart January.”

“Is that what you think of me, Jeffrey? A woman with a heart imprisoned in ice but with warm, sunny eyes?”

His lips brushed against her bottom, the move bringing a flush to her cheeks. “Nay, you are more like July. The sun has no power over you, for your heat would burn that sphere from the sky.”

“You make it sound as if I am on fire.”

“Aye, you are, almost too hot for me,” he teased, pulling a strand of her hair playfully.

“Why is that poem one of your favorites?”

“I like the imagery of winter fleeing. Always in Boston winter held us in its harsh, icy grip. When the sun finally began beating back the snow and the icicles started dripping, it was like all that was bitter and cold finally melted into the promise of hope.”

Amanda sensed Jeffrey hid this sensitive, dreamy side from the world.