His Wicked Kiss (35 page)

She leaned against the cannon, braced on her hands, her body sending signals that would have shocked her virginal mind. He continued caressing her head with one hand, running his fingers through her luxurious hair; with the other, a few light strokes between her legs helped him recall exactly how she liked to be touched. And then he gave his lady just what her sweet body craved.

She was shaking, moving with him in dazed rhythm, her clit swelling, rigid and inflamed, as he gathered her teeming nectar on his fingertip and used it to lubricate each gentle, teasing stroke. After a few moments, she dropped her head back with another soft groan, driving him mad with the sinuous motion of her buttocks winding against his loins.

It soon became more than Jack could bear.

“Don’t move,” he whispered, his left hand still kneading the soft flesh of her left hip to make sure she didn’t take it into her head to flee. He couldn’t have that. “Don’t be afraid,” he added, untying the belt of his dressing gown with his other trembling hand. “I’m not going to take you yet. I just want you to feel me now.” Letting his robe fall open down the front of him, he angled his upright cock downward, nosing into the slick, damp heat between her thighs.

“Mm,” she said, riding it a bit—cautiously.

Jack swallowed hard, his chest heaving. He was panting, and as he went back to sporting with her pert little clit, he could feel his restraint beginning to splinter at the seams, like a ship coming apart in a storm.

Her wetness dripped down his cock as she writhed slowly, sliding her silken crevice along the upper surface of his pulsating shaft. He helped her, glad to be of service; he rocked his hips with a slow, careful motion, letting her get used to him between her legs. After a moment or two, she reached back and clutched his hip, pulling him closer, her teeth bared, her hazy eyes glittering.

How passionate she was, he mused as he complied, his touch quickening. Her eager panting turned to soft and high-pitched moans; she gasped his name and for a fleeting instant, her lithe body went rigid.

He realized he had just brought her to orgasm.

“Shh,” he whispered at her ear, smiling to himself as he caught her, steadying her as she went limp with a groan.
Such an apt pupil
. She leaned against the cannon until he turned her around and gathered her into his arms.

He held her for a long moment, ignoring the stampede of lust inside him, for he was moved beyond words at the innocence of her release. So artless and pure. Her helpless surrender bespoke a blood-deep trust. But wasn’t that what she had given to him from the start? Her words had stayed with him, haunting him from that first day in the jungle.

“I trust you, Jack.”

That someone as pure as Eden Farraday could see good in him shook him to the core.

He lowered his head, cupped her delicate jaw in his hand, and kissed her. She wound her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with an earnest wholeheartedness that made him ache.

I
trust you, too, Eden
, he thought.
As much as I am able to trust anyone
.

She was still trembling with the aftermath of ecstasy, overwhelmed; she felt a bit thrown off balance, for she had not expected any of this to happen, at least not today, after all they had been through. Jack’s rich passion flowed over her and wrapped around her, a sweetness and exquisite security.

As she kissed him slowly, savoring his mouth, she let her hand travel in a cautious exploration across the broad, warm swells of his chest, where his dressing gown had fallen open.

He quivered under her touch. She ventured further, fascinated, molding her palm against him as her hand glided down the intricate musculature of his carved belly. His velvet skin heated under her caress. He breathed out a low, needy moan against her lips, and
Eden
realized abruptly that although he had brought her to climax, he was still on fire.

His touch running down her sides brimmed with searing need. His hungry kiss urged her lips farther apart, and then he tasted her again with a deep, slow stroke of his tongue on hers.

She raked her fingers through his hair, caressed his stubbled jaw, and played with his neat, low sideburns.

Jack cupped her nape and drank of her kisses still more deeply;
Eden
gladly acquiesced. She knew she was playing with fire, but she could not stop, enthralled by the firm, delicious pressure of his mouth slanting over hers with such hot, masculine greed. Her fingers dug into his powerful shoulders as though with a will of their own, clutching, claiming a man she knew she’d never tame.

His tongue swirled and danced in her mouth, thrusting in and out, as his fingertips stroked her neck and throat. The effect it had on
Eden
shocked her to the core: Again, he stirred the glowing embers of her desire alive with new and still hotter flame.

There was no point arguing with a six-foot wall of male muscle as he began backing her toward his bed behind her, kissing her all the while.

She stole a brief upward glance at his face from under her lashes. His aqua-blue eyes glittered harshly with the fever, his taut expression that of a man who would not be denied.

“Jack?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“W-What are you doing?”

“Seducing you,” he whispered very smoothly. “I told you I would.” He lifted the borrowed shirt she was wearing off over her head, then glanced down at her naked body in starved appreciation.

He stole another kiss and kept inching her back toward the bed.

“Y-You said I would be willing.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I-I don’t know. This is—maybe we should think about this.”

“Let’s not.”

“But Jack.” Thrill and fear and need—hesitation, distress, and longing brewed up a potent concoction of primal response in
Eden
as she realized he could not hold himself back any longer. She was about to be ravished.

“Yes, my sweet?”

The backs of her legs bumped up against his bed behind her. “I didn’t think you wanted me.”

“Oh, but I do,” he vowed, slowly shaking his head. He took off the long, luxurious robe, letting it spill off his shoulders to pool behind him on the floor.

Eden
gulped at his magnificent body towering before her in the candlelight.

“So very much.” He pressed her down gently by her shoulders until she sat on the edge of his berth. He descended with her, sinking to his knees between her legs. “Would you like me to show you how much,
Eden
?”

“Um—”

His hot, wet mouth left her lips to travel down around her chin; along the side of her neck, entrancing her; and down into the valley between her breasts. “
Oh, God
.” She sank back onto one elbow on his mattress, and Jack had easy access to all of her.

He stroked her body everywhere until she was breathless from his ministrations. She knew if they did this, there was no turning back, but her heart already belonged to him, and her body delighted under his hands. When he touched her like this, in long, hypnotic strokes, there could be nothing in the world to fear. Her mind felt numb and blissful, as though she had ingested one of those strange jungle plants the Waroa used in their religious ceremonies.

He cradled her head with his other hand and nuzzled her earlobe, his heavy breathing raspy by her ear. “Delicious thing,” he purred in dark seduction as he glided down by her navel, “I want to eat you.”

She let out a dazed laugh, thinking that he spoke metaphorically, but she soon realized her mistake when he pressed her legs apart on a wider angle and continued descending along her body, trailing thrilling kisses all down her torso and on her hips as he went. She held her breath and clenched the coverlet in her fists, throbbing with wild anticipation.

He reached beneath her and cupped her buttocks gently in his big, deft hands. Then he bent his head, nibbling at her inner thighs in teasing play, tantalizing her until she squirmed in needy impatience; his warm, manly lips hovered above her mound for a heartbeat before he slowly licked her most sacred core.

Eden
whispered an incredulous expletive—but Jack was only getting started. The light flicking of his clever tongue duplicated the earlier motion of his fingertip; she groaned in sheer abandon. Then his mouth was upon her, claiming her, pleasuring her. She was liquid fire beneath him, like the tropical sun turning the slow-moving river to gold.

Her breath heaved as though she had run a mile. He had her writhing, arching, undulating as she sought the satisfaction of his tongue. He was ferocious in his giving. There was nowhere she could go to escape the pleasure. Starting forward, his mouth consumed her ultra-sensitized center; shrinking back, his pinky finger pressed deep into the cleft of her backside, and all the while, his two fingers glided in and out of her slick passage, working her into a lather—
again
.

Ruthless, this man. Delightfully so.

She raked her trembling hands through his thick, wavy hair, panting as she gazed down at him again. One glance revealed that all of the fierce, single-minded force of purpose in his nature was focused on giving her pleasure, nay, worshiping her body with his own.

Cupping her foot in loving play, he set her leg over his broad shoulder to drink her in more deeply. She cupped his head between her thighs, melting on his tongue like flowing honey.

“Oh, God, Jack!” she gasped out. “I could die…”

A low, seductive laugh escaped him at her amazement, the deep notes vibrating against her throbbing flesh: She winced and smiled in half-drunken delight as he gave her only a moment to steady herself.

“You won’t die. Trust me.” He glanced up and gave her a devil’s smile with eyes that burned like hot coals. He pressed a tender kiss to her belly and then returned below to finish driving her mad.

In moments, she was wild with passion, thrusting herself into his wonderful mouth. “Oh, Jack, I… can’t take any more. Make it… stop…
please
. …”

Demon that he was, the exquisite torment only intensified in answer to her ragged plea. It sharpened; deepened; and then on the verge of her gasp, it suddenly ceased.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he chided in knowing amusement even as she cried out at the denial.

He dragged his lips away from her teeming core and dried his mouth against her thigh. He nuzzled the lower curve of her breast as he moved upward once more.

“Jack.”

“No, darling, I’ve got something else for you.” Hooking an arm around her waist, he slid her into the center of his bed as he joined her, moving her as easily as if she weighed no more than a cat.

Eden
marveled at the rock-hard arms that held her. She trailed her fingertips over the bulky swell of his left biceps, then squeezed the muscle, amazed to find it quite as solid as sun-warmed stone; laughing softly at her experiment, Jack kissed her cheek.

“You’re very hard,” she remarked, then looked anxiously into his eyes. “You’ll hurt me!”

“No, sweet. Never.” His expression softening, he reclined on his side next to her. She glanced down in worried awe at his naked body and saw that the light sprigging of brown hair of his chest matched the darker thatch from which his phallus sprung, so large and ready. Even now, it towered over her flat belly.

Good God.

Jack distracted her from staring before real fear could set in. With a gentle pressure under her chin, he tipped her head back and kissed her with slow, drugging depth. After a moment,
Eden
wrapped her arms around him while his roaming fingertips glided over her, connecting the dots of her occasional freckles.

He bent over her, delighting her with a little nibble on the tip of her nose, and then kissing his way down her face, rounding her chin. He licked her throat and lightly teethed her neck. She held him to her, running her fingers through his thick, silky hair.

He leaned closer and then moved atop her. “I need you,” he whispered.

She searched his face, so unsure, and yet so hungry for him.

Her blood pounded like tribal drums. Her lips throbbed, swollen from his kisses. He cradled her head in his left hand but reached down between their bodies with his right and guided the throbbing tip of his hardness into her love-slicked threshold.

Her heart slammed, but Jack displayed superhuman restraint, advancing no further for a few seconds, letting her get used to him again. This was not much different than what they’d done before beside the cannon, she thought, and felt braver. Sensing her relax a bit, he began to play with her, roguishly, swirling the smooth head of his instrument all over and around her dripping core. He teased her with it until she burned for him; he skimmed her open blossom more deeply with each pass.

“You’re cruel,” she panted.

“I’m thorough.”

“Jack,” she groaned, enfolding him between her legs. She hooked her ankles against the small of his back and squirmed beneath him in wanton need, past caring about tomorrow. “Oh… Jack, please.”

“Easy, love. Don’t move like that. You’re torturing me.” His voice was gruff, his angular face taut with desire, but he paused to inhale the scent of her. He glided the tip of his nose along the curve of her shoulder and her neck. “You smell so good, my orchid, my exquisite flower.”