After The Storm (23 page)

“I have, just now,” he said huskily, and then lest he
make her retreat he hurriedly added, “I was told by my father that
we did at one time store some treasures here, but not for
centuries.” Then he could no longer hold back. She was so enticing,
so inviting in his arms that he bent and kissed her softly on her
lips. She melted against him; encouraged, he held her tighter, he
kissed her longer, parting her lips so his tongue could find its
way to hers.

That kiss spiraled into another and thrilled him
beyond his most fervent hope. She tasted better than any gourmet
meal. Her scent was intoxicating; her touch charged him with an
energy he wanted to share with her.

She pressed into him, and he nibbled then at her
neck, lower still to the swells above her bodice. His hand found
and cupped her breast, and he whispered hoarsely, “I want you,
Jenny … I want you now.”

She didn’t speak for a moment, but when she then
sweetly said his name, he was moved to exultation as he kissed her
sweet lips again.

He knew he was out of control. He wanted her so
badly, ached for her with all his senses, needed her, and damn,
suddenly, she was so willing!

This was not where he had wanted their first time
together to be, in this dirty closet of a chamber, but all thought
exploded into a myriad of particles no longer cohesive as his
tongue found and played hers.

Her body pressed so enticingly against his manhood
drove him wild, and he had to touch her, had to feel her skin
beneath his, and without thought he began undressing her, ripping
at the buttons at the back of her gown, pulling it down around her,
yanking off her undergarments until she stood there, with those
sweet, perky nipples talking to him, begging him for his lips.

His thumb brushed up against one as he cupped her
other breast and bent his head to suckle there. He heard the sound
of her gasp, felt her body sway with pleasure, and was exalted. He
found that he wanted to please her, that pleasing her was more
important than pleasing himself.

“Jenny … you are exquisite … shall I carry
you upstairs …?”

“No, no … here …” she breathed.

“Are you sure … your injuries …” he
objected, not wishing to hurt her further.

“No injuries …
here
,” she said
desperately.

He didn’t want to take her surrounded by dust and the
musky smell of time, but he couldn’t stop touching her, and her
encouragement had sent him over the edge. Her hungry demand turned
him feral, and he knew there was no turning back.

He threw off his garments and dropped them on the
hard floor. She ran her hand up his bare chest as he reached for
and fondled her breasts, and ecstasy flooded his veins. He kissed
her mouth again, and his tongue did an age-old dance with hers.

Somehow he was out of his hessians and had his
pantaloons thrown down. Then he pulled at her gown hanging about
her hips, and she stood, a ravishing goddess. His eyes drank her in
as he lowered her to the clothes he had piled on the floor as
bedding.

He nibbled at her neck, held her breasts, and licked
first one nipple and then the other, suckled there, encouraged
beyond his dreams as she arched to his touch.

His tongue lapped and licked, and then he nibbled a
path to her belly as his hand parted her thighs. He had to control
himself. He had to go slowly and gently, for he knew she had never
been with a man.

He found the tuft of hair between her thighs, and one
finger idly flicked its way inside. Her groan made his hard cock
pulse with a force that made it difficult to hold back.

He parted her thighs wider as he bent and licked at
the very edge of that cleft. When she said his name, the tone of
her voice, full with hunger, fully empowered his beast. He licked
deeper there, nibbled, and said, “Sweet honey box, my love …
so sweet.”

She was moving frantically to his nibbling, saying
his name in a manner that made him feel savage. He rose up and
allowed her to see his hard and throbbing manhood, took her hand
and put it there, taught her to stroke it for a moment, and then,
he lost control.

He had to have her, right then, right at that moment.
He positioned himself, guided his hard, needy cock, and started its
introduction to her wet and ready, as he called it,
honey
box
.

He had never been with a virgin before and wasn’t
sure just how to spare her the pain that would certainly come. He
managed to control his thrust, entering slowly, but she purposely
bumped towards him, and suddenly he knew he had broken through.

She stopped mid-movement and made a little whimper,
but he pushed further inside, and all at once, she was working her
hips, matching his movement with a few of her own, and holding him
tightly as she arched and screamed out his name.

He knew she had reached her climax, and the notion
thrilled him beyond thought. He drove into her again and again,
controlling himself, for he wasn’t ready to shoot his seed. He
wanted this feeling to go on; he wanted her to experience more
pleasure, and suddenly she was moaning, and saying, “Yes, yes,
Jason … yes …” and once again, she was pleasured, and
then there was no holding back as he released his hot seed deep
inside her.

She clung to him, and he kissed her forehead, her
cheek, her lips and then said as he got up and pulled her up with
him, “Sweetheart, I have to get you out of this damp place …”
He picked up her clothes. “Here, love, put them on … just till
I can get you to our bed, for we—you and I—
are not
done
 …”

* * *

Jenny felt as though a new world of sensations had
been dropped into her hands. She had never known a woman could feel
such pleasures. Her friends had always spoken about what a man
needed, what a man must have, what pleasures a woman could give to
a man. She had never realized what pleasures a man could give a
woman.

He was everything—gentle, wild, expertly gifted with
his hands, his tongue, his huge manhood that had felt like power in
her hands.

She wanted this to go on and on.

She had thrown on her clothes, heedless of buttons,
and giggled all the while as he kept dropping light kisses on her
lips. When they reached the corridor that led to the main
staircase, he had hurriedly taken her into his arms and carried her
up the stairs to their bedroom without incident. She had not seen
anyone about and giggled the entire time he carried her, telling
him this was something out of a torrid romance novel.

“And have you ever read a torrid romance novel?” he
teased.

“No, but this is what, I am certain, would be hinted
at if I did,” she answered and laughed, beyond happy. Forgotten was
the day, the toolshed, and the fire. She was with the man she
loved—and with a start, she realized she
did not
feel guilty
for it.

They arrived in their master suite, and he placed her
lovingly on what she suddenly realized would now be
their
bed, and this thrilled her.

“Jenny,” he said softly and with such feeling that
her heart began to beat with a deafening staccato that made her
blink from the reverberating sound in her ears and the built-up
pressure in her chest.

She scrambled out of her clothes and threw them to
the floor before he had even pulled off his hessians. She stood
naked on her knees on their bed and wondered at herself. What had
happened to her? She was alive again, more alive than she had ever
been in all her life. This passion, this love she felt was like
nothing she had ever experienced before.

His clothes were discarded, and he too stood naked
before her. She stared at his hard, dancing manhood and felt her
body respond to it in a manner that made her feel wanton.
She
was wanton
, she was feral for his touch, she was savage for his
kisses, for him.

He took her hand and sat her on the bed to stroke her
breasts with one finger, and she watched the hunger on his face as
his fingers and then hand fondled her. Then he took her chin with
his thumb and forefinger and asked hoarsely, “Jenny, my sweet life,
are you too sore …?”

She didn’t answer that question but gave him one of
her own, “Do you mean to refuse a lady what she wants and needs
right this minute?” Her eyes flirted boldly, and she knew she would
never be the girl that she had been. This was her moment, her
blossoming into the woman she should be—would be.

He laughed, and she heard the joy in the sound as he
climbed onto the bed, and then all at once he had her turned around
facing away from him and in position on his lap to receive! He
worked his shaft inside her as his hands teased her nipples and his
lips nipped at the nape of her neck. His husky, sensual voice
whispered, “Here, love, I mean to pleasure you every way a man
can…”

She did what he asked, and all the while her
nerve-endings burst with anticipation as his hands roamed over her
hips and thighs. Inside, her heart filled with love and passion and
the new wonder of what she felt for this all-consuming man.

His fingers were deft as they played with her, and he
put in one finger first into her wet and ready opening, joining
with his cock already deep inside. He rubbed her throbbing clit
until she said his name on a groan and then showed her how to
rotate herself on the wide, large, burning manhood inside her. She
pushed down hard on his shaft and called out, “Yes …!”

His body bent over her back, his hands cupped her
breasts as he thrust deeper inside her, and he worked her until she
wanted to scream with the pleasure he gave her. Then as she
climaxed, she did in fact shout out his name, “
Jason,
oh,
yes, my love!”

“Ah, yes, my heart …” he murmured, now caught in
the moment as he joined her in sweet release, his voice a moan of
ecstasy, “Jenny, ah Jenny …!”

~
Sixteen ~

ARMED WITH SHARP cutting shears and an empty flower
basket hanging over her bare arm, Jenny made her way across the
front lawns. The sun seemed to be grinning and wagging a finger,
and the breeze seemed to chuckle and say, “Naughty girl.” It was
how she felt after the night of lovemaking with her husband. She
had never known what a man and woman could do for each other—and in
how many ways!

The notion made her smile. She had not bothered to
wear a hat, and the warm sun felt wonderful on her face. It was not
fashionable for a woman to get tanned, but she didn’t give a fig
for that.

Arriving at what had once been a beautiful rose
garden, she picked through the tall weeds and began cutting the
best of the lengthy stems of the pink and yellow blooms. She
clucked her tongue to find aphids covering so many of the rose
bushes but managed to collect enough clean buds for the vase in her
room. She sighed as she looked around, excited that soon they would
have a bevy of workers setting the grounds to rights.

She looked off towards the toolshed, now a pile of
charcoal, and frowned. She picked her way there, not knowing why,
and was taking a tour of the burned wreckage when a familiar voice
said, “I say, Jen, revisiting the scene of the crime?”

“Mac,” she answered with warmth. “Good morning. Yes,
though only because I can no longer be locked inside it.” She tried
making light of the situation, though it was still a source of
concern.

“Pretty roses,” he remarked.

She held them up. “Yes, they are. They should dress
up our bedroom nicely, I think. I wish there were enough to dress
up more of the house, which is so barren of flowers.” She looked up
at him and saw something suddenly flicker over his face. “Mac, what
is it?”

“The house has
you,
Jen. That is more than any
house—or man—could ask for,” he answered, his voice strangely
distant.

“Why, Mac, what has you so glum?”

“Glum? I suppose, yes, I am. You see, you are another
man’s bride.” His tone now was light and teasing.

She beamed at him, tilting her head. “But that leaves
you free to pursue
that man’s stepmama!
”

He playfully yanked a long strand of her hair. “That
is a very saucy thing for you to say.”

She eyed him, thinking he looked his best, tall and
casually dressed, his light brown hair blowing about his pleasant
face.

They fell into a comfortable pace beside one another.
He walked with his hands clasped behind his back, his smile ever
ready.

She touched his dark brown buckskin riding jacket and
said, “Seems so odd to see you out of uniform, sir.”

“Funny thing, I got used to it almost immediately.”
He shrugged. “Jen, I must leave you for some of the day, as I have
to go into town to visit with my solicitor. We have land here in
Dover, and I think we have a buyer for them.” He smiled. “No sense
holding onto land we’ll never really make use of. There are papers
I need to sign, as m’father has given me power of attorney to take
care of the business for him.”

“Oh, I do hope your father makes a full recovery,”
Jen said sympathetically.

“There is little hope of that—death for all of us in
the end is inevitable,” he answered on a dark frown.

“Inevitable, I know, but it is for the ones it leaves
behind I feel,” she said on a sigh.

“Never say you still pine for John?” he asked in some
surprise.

“No. I did, so very much for so long. We were such
good friends, you know, and I missed that above all else.”

“And now you have a new love,” he said, casting her a
quick glance.

“And now
I do
, yes, and it is very different,”
she said and felt the heat rush to her cheeks.

“And are you happy, Jen?” he asked on a grave
note.

He had stopped, and she turned to him and put out her
hand to his chest. “I never thought I could be again, but, yes,
happier than I have
ever been
.”