Catch a Falling Heiress: An American Heiress in London (30 page)

BOOK: Catch a Falling Heiress: An American Heiress in London
4.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“My God,” he muttered, and laughed a little. “You’re even lovelier than I imagined. You’re perfect.”

He lifted his hand and cupped her breast in his palm, another shock, and she gasped. And then he took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and toyed with it, played with it.

Sharp sensation pierced her, and her knees gave out. His arm was back around her in an instant, and as he held her tight, her body pressed to his, and the hard part of him that had pressed against her back yesterday now pressed against her tummy. As his hand shaped and played with her breast, she shivered in his hold. She heard her breathing quickening and her pulses racing. “Jack,” she gasped. “Oh, Jack.”

He kissed her bare shoulder, holding her tight, but after a moment, he had to have another look at her, and he eased back again. Taking her hands in his, he spread her arms apart, and his throat went tight at the sight of her full, round breasts, so pink and white, at the slim indent of her waist, and the graceful outward curve of her hips. Her skin was pale and luminous in the lamplight, and when his gaze came to rest on the gold curls at the apex of her thighs, a fierce, hot wave of love and lust and protectiveness rose up in him, making him feel primal, almost savage, in a way no woman had ever made him feel, and he was more certain than ever before that Linnet was his woman, to protect and defend and care for as long as he lived upon this earth.

He wanted her so badly, he could feel his insides shaking, but he knew he had to bank his own desire, for he was determined that her first time making love with him was going to be beautiful and right, no matter what it took.

He kissed her mouth once more, then he took her hand and led her toward the bed. “Come and lie with me.”

“That’s part of what you said you wanted,” she murmured, following him.

“I seem to have said a lot of things in those woods.” He took her by the shoulders and guided her down onto the bed. “Lie down,” he ordered, and she complied, but as she stretched out on the pale green counterpane of his bed, he realized the implications of what they were about to do. Servants, he reminded himself, had sharp eyes.

He glanced around and spied the towel on the floor, the one he’d shaved with earlier—a towel, he decided, that was going to go missing sometime in the night and never be seen again. He started across the room.

“Jack?”

He picked up the towel from where it had fallen from his shoulders earlier and came back to the bed. “Lift your hips,” he told her.

She complied. “What is that for?” she asked, as he folded the towel and tucked it beneath her.

“I’ll explain later.”

He reached for the top button of his trousers, but then he glanced over her magnificent, glorious, naked body, and decided he’d better keep his trousers on for now. There was only so much temptation a man could endure, and he needed all the restraint he could get right now. With his trousers on, he stretched out beside her. Resting his weight on his forearm, he spread his hand over her stomach and caressed her, stroking, his hand moving up and down her torso.

She responded at once, a low moan in her throat as her body stirred. He smiled, looking up, seeing her parted lips and closed eyes. He moved closer, but when his erection pressed against her thigh, she shied a bit, opening her eyes.

“Jack?” She looked at him, her pretty eyes wide with alarm.

He’d never made love to a virgin, but he knew fear when he heard it. He took a profound, shaky breath and cupped her chin. “It’s all right, Lioness,” he promised. “Trust me.”

He leaned over her and kissed her again, making love to her mouth while he waited for the fear in her body to ease. When she relaxed again in his hold, he pulled back to look into her face and put his hand again to her breast. He relished the weight of it, full and round, and the velvety softness of her areola, and the turgid hardness of her nipple. He smiled, as he watched her eyes close and her lips part, and her breathing came faster.

He moved down a bit, and took her nipple into his mouth. She lifted her arm, moaning softly against her wrist, instinctively following his caution to keep quiet.

His hand moved to her other breast, shaping it as he suckled her, relishing the way she shivered as his tongue gently drew the tip of her breast against his teeth again and again.

Her hips were moving now, stirring, brushing against the tip of his erection through his trousers, but this time, she didn’t shy away. Wanting to see her face again, he lifted his head as his palm slid over her body, from her breast, down over her ribs and her stomach and even farther down, until his fingertips grazed the soft triangle of golden curls at the apex of her thighs. He eased his hand between her legs, and she gave a shuddering gasp. Her legs squeezed convulsively around his hand, as her eyes opened in shock. “Jack,” she whispered, and her hand closed over his wrist, trying to shove him away.

“Don’t stop me,” he said, moving his fingers, pushing deeper between her thighs. “I’ve been dreaming of this,” he told her. “Let me touch you here.”

“All right.” The whisper was so low, he almost didn’t hear it, but her hand fell away, and her legs opened a fraction, letting him ease his finger into the crease of her sex.

She was wet, slick, and inviting, but he knew she wasn’t ready for what was to come, so he stroked her, gliding his finger back and forth along the seam of her sex, watching her face as her eyes closed, her breathing quickened, and her hips began to move against his caress. Words aroused her, he knew that now, and he used them.

“Do you like this?” he murmured. “Do you?”

Linnet heard his question, but she was too overwhelmed to reply. When he said he’d imagined touching her, she never thought he meant this. Her mind had never conceived any touching like this.

“Do you like this? I want to please you. Does this please you?” When she still didn’t answer, he started to withdraw his hand.

“No,” she protested, her hips arching up, her body following his withdrawal. “No, Jack.”

“No?” he murmured, laughing under his breath, teasing her. “No, you don’t like it?”

“I do like it.” She was panting now, a helpless victim to this tender teasing. “I do. I do.”

Her hips were jerking now, her body moving against his hand of its own volition, the tip of his finger was sliding back and forth over her most intimate place, and each tiny move sent another throb of pleasure through her body. As he stroked her, the pace seemed to quicken until she was moving in frantic, helpless little jerks. The pleasure thickened within her, deepened, and she moaned. At once, his other hand came up to touch her face, his finger pressing her lips, and at last she understood what he’d meant about making noise.

“Hush, love,” he said, even as his stroking fingers moved faster. “Hush.”

She bit her lip, for the tension of keeping silent only seemed to heighten the anticipation building inside her, higher, hotter, and more intense with each stroke of his fingers. She felt as if her body needed something more than this, but she didn’t know what, and as the pleasure built within her, it became so acute she began to whimper, soft little sounds stifled by her teeth pressing against her lip.

“That’s it, my love,” he murmured. “You’re nearly there. Come for me. Come.”

She didn’t know what he meant, but somehow her body knew, for the low, thick coaxing of his voice seemed to enhance the pleasure of his touch, and suddenly, she felt a burst of sensation like she’d never felt before, an explosive rush of pleasure that arched her hips upward and tore a startled cry from her lips. He kissed her, catching the sound of her cry even as she made it, as her thighs clenched around his hand and ecstasy flowed through her again and again. His fingers continued to pleasure her, even as she collapsed, panting, against the mattress.

“Linnet, it’s time.” His voice sounded harsher, more urgent than before. “I can’t wait much longer, so you have to listen to me.”

He withdrew his hand and moved onto his back. She turned her head, and when she saw him unbuttoning his trousers, pulling them down, she remembered that part of him hard against her bottom yesterday, and the groan of his pleasure that had echoed through the woods, and she realized in sudden shocked insight what was going to happen.

“Jack?” Her voice was a panicked squeak. “Jack?”

The trousers went flying, then he was on top of her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling another jolt of panic at the weight of him, solid and heavy on top of her, and the hard, burning part of him that pressed between her legs.

He stilled, and she felt his hands caressing her face. “Linnet, look at me.”

She forced herself to open her eyes. His black eyes seemed to bore into hers, and she saw the desire there, burning for her. “Listen to me, Linnet,” he said, and his voice was strained now. “This will hurt. There’s no way to avoid it, but I promise . . .” He paused to kiss her. “I promise it won’t ever hurt like this again. Trust me?”

She nodded, and sucked in a breath. “Yes.”

“It’ll be all right,” he promised, kissing her. She felt his hand ease between their bodies, to caress her stomach, then move lower, over her hip and across her thigh. “Open your legs, love. Open for me. It’ll be all right.”

His voice shook, and she realized the strain was from holding back for her sake, until she was ready. “Come to me,” she whispered, guided by instinct and love as she spread her legs wider apart, wanting to give him the same thing he’d already given her. “Come to me, Jack.”

He moved his hips, and she felt the tip of his hardness brushing her opening. It was delicious, and she felt that excitement rising again as she had when his fingers had caressed her. “Take me in your hand,” he told her, and he was guiding her hand to wrap around his shaft. He was scorching hot, and it startled her. She’d have drawn back, but his hand was holding hers around him. “I want you to bring me inside you.”

He showed her how, guiding her, but she felt terribly awkward, and when she felt him pushing deeper into her, she drew her hands out of the way, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“Oh, God,” he groaned against her neck. And then, his hips surged, and he came fully into her.

She gasped, her body arching, the pain like a cruel pinch deep inside. He kissed her mouth as his body stilled.

“Are you all right?” His voice was a harsh whisper. “God, Linnet, are you all right?”

She nodded. “Yes, I . . . I think so.” She wriggled her hips, and grimaced, for it still hurt a little.

But then, he began to move within her, and as he did, the pain seemed to ease a little more with each stroke, and she became aware of the pleasure, too, for there was pleasure in this—the hard, thick fullness of him inside her, the way he moved, like a caress from the inside. His pace began to quicken, and he thrust a little harder each time, a little deeper. She began to move with him, and the pleasure increased even more, and, without warning, those ecstatic waves came over her again, even more intense this time with him inside her, and she wrapped her legs around him, clenching tighter, then tighter still.

He made a rough sound against her mouth, then his arms were sliding beneath her back, seeming to want her even closer than she already was. Holding her in this tight embrace, he thrust into her again, then again, and yet again. At last, a shudder rocked him, and it was his turn to cry out, a full-throated groan buried against her neck. He thrust twice more, his body shuddering with what she knew to be similar sensations to those she had felt. At last, his body sank down on hers, his arms wrapped tight around her, his breathing warm and labored against her hair.

Linnet stared up at the ceiling in wonder, her palms stroking the smooth, hard muscles of his back and shoulders. This strange and wondrous coupling, she now knew, was what brought the giggles and knowing smiles to the faces of her married friends when they talked about married life and sleeping with their husbands. This was what Jack had imagined with his talk of caressing her naked skin and lying with her and bedding her. This was making love.

Linnet felt dazed and awed. The pain she’d felt earlier seemed inconsequential now; she hardly felt it at all. Instead, with his strong body heavy and solid on top of hers, his masculine invasion still within her, and his strong arms tight around her, all she felt was a sweet, aching joy and an overwhelming tenderness. She loved him, and she wanted to marry him, and when she did, she knew there would be many sweet, tender moments like this.

He stirred on top of her. “Still all right?” he asked, pressing a kiss to her hair before he lifted his head to look into her face. “Does it . . .” He paused, grimacing. “Does it still hurt?”

She shook her head. “No. Not anymore.”

“I’m sorry about that.” He kissed her mouth. “It won’t hurt like that again.”

She was rather relieved about that. “I love you.”

That pleased him. A smile creased the edges of his eyes and the corners of his mouth. “Well, I should hope so, after the merry hell you’ve been putting me through.”

She made a face. “You poor, poor man,” she replied with mock sympathy. “You’ve suffered so much.”

His smile became a grin. “It was worth it.” He kissed her, and his hand slid between their bodies to cup her breast. “Worth every torturous moment.”

She could feel heat flooding her, quick as that, a blush that spread through her body.

He saw it, too, the wretched man. “I’d like to,” he murmured, palming and shaping her breast in his hand, playing with her nipple as he’d done before, stirring arousal in her just like before. “But we can’t.” His hand slid away and he kissed her nose. “Not until the wedding.”

“Oh, you are such a tease, Jack Featherstone!” She pressed a hand to his shoulder and gave him a push.

“You think this is a tease?” His grin became downright wicked. “Just wait until I’m sneaking kisses from you behind the rose arbor. Then you’ll know what teasing is, Miss Holland.”

He stirred again, as if to roll off her, but she tightened her legs around him, reluctant to move. She felt blissful, lethargic, and all she wanted was to sink into sleep. He seemed to realize it, for he lifted his head and smiled, and took her mouth in a soft and tender kiss.

Other books

Downbelow Station by C. J. Cherryh
Lead a Horse to Murder by Cynthia Baxter
Stark After Dark by J. Kenner
White Cargo by Stuart Woods
Jonah's Gourd Vine by Zora Neale Hurston
The Chocolate Lovers' Diet by Carole Matthews
Ocean of Love by Susan D. Taylor