Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed (27 page)

“Hush.” Her fingers traced the marks on his face.

Hell. He didn’t want her dwelling on his hideous face. He tried to wrench away. If he wasn’t tied down, he’d run from the room like the coward he was.

Damn her. Damn her to Hades. Why did she do this?

“Don’t,” he forced out.

“Hush,” she said again and placed her lips on the thick scar bisecting his eyebrow.

“No,” he choked, but she didn’t seem to hear. Instead she shifted her attentions to the long slash dividing his cheek. He squeezed his eyes shut and wished she’d tied the blindfold over his face.

He hated this.
Hated it.

“You’re shaking.” She spoke against his temple, her breath feathering his hair.

“Stop it.” His hands fisted in their bonds.

“Oh, my love,” she murmured with gentle chastisement.

The endearment cut straight through him. Even as he loathed her pity, he yearned for her tenderness. No woman had shared this sweet softness with him. It made him feel weak, needy, but he couldn’t prevent his heart opening to her. When she kissed his broken nose, tears burned behind his eyes. Hell, no. He refused to weep like some puling milksop. But the angry words demanding she desist died unspoken when she pressed her mouth to his.

Jonas was so proud. Too proud.

Even now when Sidonie offered comfort for his sufferings, he fought to rise above human weaknesses like pain and loneliness. He was so used to battling the world alone, he didn’t realize she was on his side.

He shook violently, as though he were trapped naked in an ice cave. She wanted to warm him, bring him next to the fire so he wouldn’t be cold anymore.

His lips parted and she tasted a tenderness that made her heart constrict with longing. The kiss exploded into fierceness. He ravaged her mouth as if to punish her for pushing past desire into the dangerous world of emotion.

Breathlessly Sidonie raised her head and stared at him. He focused on her face, then lower to where her bodice gaped. Heat surged, left her giddy. Blind instinct made her kneel over him. Discovering with her lips the sinewy shoulders. The hard line of his collarbone. The racing pulse in his throat. She heard excitement in his groan when she nipped his neck.

She licked her lips. His salty taste lingered. She wanted more.

He tugged at the cords. “I have to touch you.”

She shook her head.

His voice lowered to persuasion. “Sidonie, untie me.”

“No.” If she released him, he’d take over. All she’d prove was that she couldn’t resist him. He already knew that. Her hand curled around his rod. Tonight was her last chance to touch, taste, torment him as she willed. Fair revenge after he’d tormented her so often. Watching his reaction to her caresses conjured new magic.

She slid lower. Paused. Then gathered courage to proceed. Delicately she licked the flushed head. His taste overwhelmed her senses, more pungent than his skin. Even as he growled protest, she drew him into her mouth.

Jonas released pent-up breath as Sidonie’s mouth closed over his cock. He hardly believed she did this. His skin felt so hot, smoke should rise from his body. He struggled not to thrust upward. He didn’t want to scare her into withdrawing. Not now. Not when she promised to transport him to paradise.

He needed to bury his hands in that mane of hair. Only when he tried to lower his arms did he remember she’d bound him. The sensation of her soft, wet mouth on him banished everything else from his mind.

Her tongue flickered, then she lifted away and stared at him with a question in her eyes. He had no right to beg her to continue. To do… more. Still the plea trembled on his lips. Only with the greatest difficulty did he bite the words back.

Then incredibly she tightened her hold and took him into her mouth once more. Tentatively she sucked. He bucked against the cords around his ankles and released a strangled curse.

On a shocked gasp, she withdrew.

Dear God, Sidonie, don’t stop. Don’t stop now.

“Don’t you like it?” she asked unsteadily.

He fought to clear his vision. Even her tentative experiments left him reeling as if she flung him into an abyss from a mountaintop. “Of course I like it,” he snarled.

Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were damp and red. He wanted that mouth on him more than he wanted to live. A troubled frown crossed her face. “You don’t sound very comfortable. Am I not doing it right?”

“You don’t have to do this.” He couldn’t believe he’d said it. Where the hell had this sodding knight in shining armor come from?

“I want to.” She licked her lips as though she relished his taste.

His balls tightened until he feared they’d explode. He stared at her, vainly seeking some sign of disgust or hesitation. “Dear Lord, Sidonie, you shouldn’t have even thought of this.”

To his surprise, her lips quirked. “I have an active imagination.”

His brain started to work despite the fog of thwarted desire. He was such a fool. This was no milk-and-water miss. This was the shameless hussy who had tied him to his bed. This was the gallant woman who never quailed from his scarred face. “Good God, you really
do
want this.”

“Yes.”

He glared at the bonds. “Untie me and I’ll show you what to do.”

“Don’t spoil my fun. I’d rather discover on my own.”

“I mightn’t survive the experience.”

“Big, brave Jonas Merrick?”

“I’m only flesh and blood.”

Her smile became pure seduction. “Yes, you’re that.”

Any response evaporated in a searing burst as she firmed her grip and moved her hand up and down. Every muscle cramped with sensation. A drop of pearly liquid leaked onto the tip. He gritted his teeth and told himself he wouldn’t spill into her hand.

A strange expression crossed Sidonie’s face.

Please don’t let it be revulsion.

Before Jonas could muster protest or plea, she bent and deliberately licked away the evidence of excitement. The abrasion of her tongue made him clench his hands. Much more and he’d incinerate the damned cords. Then at least he’d be free to show her what he wanted.

She raised her head. His heart slammed against his chest as her slender throat moved. He sucked in a ragged breath. She had him in such a fever, he kept forgetting to breathe. He knew it would never happen, not with a woman like Sidonie, but the prospect of flooding her mouth with his seed then watching her swallow made him insane with yearning. Time slowed. Through narrowed eyes, he watched her lower her head.

If she stopped, she’d kill him.

Surely she’d stop.

He bit back a long groan as she took him deeper. His sight faded to black.

Her shyness melted away. Instead there was hot, wet suction as she drew hard. In his wildest dreams, he’d never imagined she’d do this. Not of her free will. She was a little clumsy. Strangely her lack of familiarity with the act reinforced pleasure. And touched his heart, much as he cursed his heart’s involvement.

She bobbed her head until she took most of him. He groaned again and his hips surged. “Sidonie,
bella
…”

She increased the pressure and he squeezed his eyes shut, battling to hold back. Devil take these ties. He couldn’t roll her onto her back and plunge into her as he longed to do. Not that he’d last more than a few seconds.

“Sidonie, stop.” His voice sounded raw.

Slowly she lifted her mouth, the slide excruciating. Hell, she’d have him whimpering like a baby.

“I want to keep going.” Her voice was deep and husky as he’d never heard it. The woman who licked her lips savoring his taste knew she possessed him.

Of course she did.

“I want to be inside you.” Faint vestiges of the man he’d once been winced to hear him beg. “Untie me.”

“Oh, no.” Her smile was provoking. Where had she learned to smile like that? The woman who arrived at his castle wouldn’t smile like that. She’d been a furled rosebud, fragrant with potential. This Sidonie was a full-blown flower, sweet-scented and luscious. “Not now I have you where I want.”

“Have pity,
anima mia
.” He’d never called her that before, although it was true. She was his soul. When she left tomorrow, she’d carry his soul with her. God help him.

Straddling him, she hovered over where he needed her. She hitched her skirts around her hips, giving him a breathtaking glimpse of dark curls hiding her sex. The knowledge of what she was about to do–surely she meant to ride him, although it was a position she hadn’t yet tried—crashed through him like an ax. All moisture dried from his mouth. His head swam.

No wonder. Every drop of blood had rushed to his cock.

Her musky scent goaded him. Although he hadn’t touched her, she was aroused. She placed one hand on his chest then slowly, oh, so slowly, lowered her hips, using her other hand to guide him into her body. Delicately she took the tip and he groaned long and hard when she stopped there. He waited for her to cover him. Instead she rose, her sleek cleft teasing the swollen head.

The witch had teased him all night. He couldn’t endure much more. She was inhuman. He feared he was far too human. The humiliating likelihood of losing himself on the sheets loomed.

“Sidonie.” Her name was a strangled protest. He writhed against his bonds, clumsily lifting his hips. He was past finesse. Good God, he was past thought. Perhaps it was a good thing that she still wore the red dress. If she was naked, he’d have lost his mind hours ago.

Still she held herself apart, the wicked girl. Once, twice, he lurched upward and each time she poised far enough away for him to feel her heat. She laughed, a low sound of excitement. Her eyes were opaque and dilated. These games had an incendiary effect on her, too.

“Damn you, Sidonie,” he choked out. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Oh, yes.” She dropped perilously close.

This time she luxuriantly moved her hips, bathing him in liquid heat. Over his galloping heart, he heard her whimper. Her hand curled in his chest hair. Her grip tightened and she sank over him more fully. In shaking suspense, he waited for her to pull away.

On a deep breath, she slid down. A long keening sound of pleasure escaped her.

“Jove and all his angels,” he grated as glorious warmth enclosed him.

The sensation exceeded all experience. The delay had built him to a pitch that he no longer felt connected to earth. She claimed his whole body. This act pleasured him from the soles of his feet to the tips of his hair. She’d marked him forever. More deeply than the scars disfiguring his face. Every cell sang her name.

Just as he reached the limits of restraint, so did she. She rippled around him, shooting wild shocks through him with each exquisite fraction of withdrawal. She lowered once more and clasped his length. He gasped and the slight shift set off new quakes. She sighed with voluptuous enjoyment. His vision cleared. The beautiful face, the abandoned expression, the flushed lips and cheeks. His fear had deprived him of so much. The blindfold had denied him this. He hadn’t known what he’d been missing.

Her nipples pressed wantonly against her bodice. His hands curled uselessly above his head. Hell, she must untie him. He couldn’t bear not touching her. Before he could articulate this demand through the jumble in his mind, she reared, with less control this time. On a choked cry, she came down hard and the world ignited.

W
hen Sidonie returned to earth after that astonishing climax, she was boneless with exhaustion, as if she’d built a mountain single-handed with a spade. She mustered energy to untie Jonas and tug the crumpled silk dress over her head. Then she curled up in his arms and sought oblivion.

Now as she stirred from sleep, she felt warm and sated and safe. Making Jonas wait had nearly killed her, but it had been worth it. He’d become completely hers in a way he never had before. And she knew at the height of his pleasure, his ever-present awareness of the scars separating him from other men had faded to blind rapture. She’d longed to give him surcease from his torments. Watching his eyes as he lost himself to her, she knew she’d succeeded.

She didn’t move, afraid to disturb him. Then realized that much of her current contentment radiated from his lazy caresses across her back. He stroked her like a cat.
Like a cat, she stretched and purred delight, loving the way her skin slid against his.

“Did I sleep long?” Her voice sounded rusty, as though she hadn’t used it for a long time. Or she’d screamed at the peak of pleasure.

“Not long.” His voice was a deep rumble under her ear.

Tonight was too short to waste in sleep. She rubbed her cheek against the soft hair on his chest. Impossible to believe that in the morning she’d dress in old clothes and step into Jonas’s carriage to leave. She’d imagined this last night would prove a melancholy experience. Instead they’d fortified their bond rather than spoken a last good-bye.

As she rose on one elbow, the candlelit mirrors reflected a brazen woman, draped naked across her lover. Meeting her eyes in the mirror, she drew courage from the level gaze. No mistake that she’d need courage for what she intended now. More courage than she’d needed to tie Jonas to the bed and have her wicked way with him.