Taken by You (13 page)

Luca laughed harshly. “Don Diego will not have me after you defile me.”

“Then you can go back to the convent as you wish. I will be doing you a favor.”

“They will not have me.”

That startled Morgan. He should have known that the rigid Spanish mentality would punish a woman for a man’s sin against her. But he couldn’t let that sway him. Don Eduardo deserved to suffer, to have his pride deflated, even if Morgan had to use the man’s daughter to accomplish it. The shame would not only be Luca’s but her father’s as well.

They reached the house too soon, much too soon. Luca hung back, but Morgan swept her from her feet and carried her up the stairs into his room. Once he stood her on her feet, he locked the door and placed the key inside his pocket. Then he turned to Luca, his face stark with hunger.

“Do you know how long I’ve looked forward to this?”

Speech deserted Luca. She saw the predatory look in his eyes, felt the heat of him reach out and surround her, and knew no amount of argument would turn him from the course he had chosen. She was doomed.

She took a step backward, another. He stalked her relentlessly. He reached for her. She froze. His arms came around her. She melted. His touch was like fire, stirring her blood, dissolving her bones. He kissed her. She could think of no prayer that would dispel the torrid heat building inside her. The master of sin and sensuality had finally succeeded in breaking through to that inner part of herself that had denied her sexuality.

“Sweet Jesus, Luca, but you’re sweet, so damn sweet. I could go on kissing you forever. But there is more, so much more I want to do to you, with you. Let me, little nun, let me.”

She exhaled raggedly as Morgan molded her body to his. His hands settled on her shoulders, his eyes probing deeply into hers. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to peel these damn widow’s weeds from your sweet body.” The front of her dress opened to the tugging of his fingers as he undid the fastenings. She grasped his hands, but he pushed them aside. Then he slid the dress down her shoulders and over her hips, where it caught briefly before pooling at her feet. Her petticoats followed. When she stood in corset and shift, she finally found her voice.

“Morgan, one last time I beg you, don’t do this. God will punish you. I belong to Him.”

“You belong to that bastard del Fugo. You would freely give to him what I’m claiming for myself. Now you will belong to me.”

Morgan frowned. Where in the hell did that come from? He had no desire to own any woman, let alone a Spanish witch.

“I don’t want to belong to anyone but God.”

“I’m going to prove differently.”

He kissed her then, melding their lips in fire and longing. His fingers worked frantically to strip the corset from her. It loosened, and he tugged it free. She moaned, surrendering to his kiss like one starving for his heady touch. Rather than release her mouth, he ripped the shift in two and pulled it from her body. Then he lifted her from the pile of clothing at her feet and carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently, finally freeing her mouth. Luca cried out.

He stood back and stared at her, at the beauty and perfection of her body. Her breasts were sized to fit a man’s hand, full yet firm, with large nipples that tempted a man’s sanity. She was of small stature but rounded in all the right places. Her hips curved enticingly from an incredibly tiny waist Her thighs were long and supple, her calves and ankles as shapely as any he’d ever seen. When he finally allowed himself to look at the one place he wanted to be above all others, he nearly lost control, something he’d never done before. The dark curling triangle of hair at the juncture of her thighs covered a treasure beyond imagination.

Slowly Morgan began to undress. Shock shuddered through Luca. She never imagined how arousing it could be to have a man look at her nude body. Or that she would ever be in a position to look at a man’s nude body. She wanted to turn her gaze aside but couldn’t Something perverse inside her made her want to look her fill. When he started to remove his trousers, Luca could no longer bear the spiraling tension building inside her, and she lowered her eyes.

Morgan grasped her chin and tilted it upward. “Are you afraid to look at me, Luca?” Morgan asked. “Don’t look away. I want to please you just as you please me. Your body is perfection, just like I knew it would be.”

He dropped his trousers and Luca shuddered and gasped in shock. It was the first time she had ever seen an aroused nude male. He was magnificent He was frightening. He was too big.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you, sweetheart?” The endearment startled Luca. She shook her head. “Has no one told you what to expect from the marriage bed?” She shook her head again. “Jesus! Just relax, I’ll explain as we go along.”

He lay down beside her and stroked and kissed her breasts. He licked her nipples, and she jerked convulsively.

“There are many ways in which a man can arouse a woman.” Morgan’s voice was lyrical. “This is but one of them. Before the night is over well explore other options.”

Disbelief flickered in her eyes. “Why does a man wish to arouse a woman? I thought they merely took their pleasure.”

Morgan chuckled. “Some men, perhaps, but not L Half the pleasure is bringing a woman slowly to climax.”

His words confused her, made her realize just how far out of her element she was. She also realized that she had to make one last effort to stop El Diablo from ruining her.

“I don’t want this… this climax you’re talking about This is sinful. Let me go now and I’ll see that my father doubles whatever ransom you ask for me.”

“It’s too late, Luca. Now, where were we? Ah, yes, the climax. When you reach it, it’s like a little death. That’s what the French call it. The feeling is difficult to explain, you’ll have to experience it yourself to know.”

His head fell to her breasts, and this time instead of merely kissing and licking her nipples, he took one into his mouth and suckled while rubbing the other between his finger and thumb. Luca cried out and arched against him. This couldn’t be happening to her. Being a nun was all she’d ever wanted. How could she let an arrogant pirate seduce her? The answer was shocking in the extreme. Suddenly nothing else mattered but this man and the sinful feelings he was arousing in her. And the climax… she wanted to experience it in the arms of Morgan Scott.

Pirate.

Despoiler of women.

Master of sin and seduction.

Lover.

Were those soft cries coming from
her
mourn, or did she dream them? Did she imagine the shaft of fire that shot through her as he feasted on her breasts, devoured her nipples? She stiffened against him, stunned by the flames consuming her. She felt as if her bones were melting, her blood boiling. When she thought she had experienced the ultimate pleasure, he added a new dimension to his loving torment. His hands trailed liquid fire over her hips, her stomach, down her thighs, moving unerringly into the soft moist place between her legs. His fingers parted her, sliding along the slick cleft, testing her readiness.

Morgan groaned from the effort it took to contain his ardor while he aroused Luca. Luca moaned in response, need spiraling from the very center of her being. “Don’t do that, I… I can’t bear it.”

“It’s all part of arousal, sweetheart. It’s supposed to continue until you’re ready.”

Luca jerked violently as his finger found a particularly vulnerable spot hidden in the wet folds of her womanhood. “Ready for what?”

Morgan sighed. Lord spare him from ignorant virgins. “When you’re wet enough and not enough to take me inside of you.” The hard knob of his sex prodded her stomach, letting her know exactly what part of him would fit inside her.

“Dios,
no! I can’t! You’re too…” she blushed furiously, “you’re too big. You’ll kill me.”

“Trust me.”

Taking her mind off of what he was doing, he kissed her, thoroughly, demandingly, thrusting his tongue into her mouth.

Dios,
Luca thought, did decent women feel such powerful emotions? With a will of their own, her fingers wound into thick hair, moving down over powerfully muscled, taut shoulders. The flesh beneath her fingertips felt vibrantly alive, just like the man himself.

Dios save me, she prayed, as she prepared to surrender her virtue to the Devil.

In another moment El Diablo would destroy her innocence, justifying the name he had taken in his quest for vengeance.

E1 Diablo.

Chapter 7

T
he languid sweep of Morgan’s tongue moved not and slow over the flesh of Luca’s stomach. Luca moaned, twisting away, yet somehow finding herself closer to the sweet torment of his mouth. She tried to deny the feelings building inside her but lacked the will. His hands were between her thighs, probing higher, his fingers wet with her moisture.

“What are you doing to me?” Luca cried out in dismay. The heady seduction of his hands and mouth destroyed her senses and reconciled her to the fact that Morgan was determined to have his way. And when strange yearnings overwhelmed her, she was curious enough to want to know everything he was doing to her, everything that was happening between them.

Morgan groaned and lifted his head. “You ask too damn many questions.” He slipped a finger inside her, moving his kisses downward along her thigh.

“Morgan! What are you doing? Tell me.”

He sighed heavily. “I’m arousing you. The wetter you are, the less it will hurt when I finally come inside you. You’re very small, sweetheart, try to relax.”

Luca choked on a sob. “If you don’t want to hurt me then don’t do this.”

“You may as well tell me to stop breathing.”

She felt his kisses tease the inside of her thigh. His touch spread liquid fire, so intimate, so demanding she began to tremble. His finger began to move, in and out, slowly at first, then faster. She moaned and writhed against the searing pressure of his hand as wondrous shards of rapture speared through her.

“Soon, sweetheart, soon,” he crooned. Then he found with his tongue the sensitive button hidden within her lush folds and she surged upward, crying out his name in ragged supplication. Nameless splendor soared through her. “Now,” he breathed raggedly. “Oh, yes, now.”

He rose above her, staring into her stunned face. “I’m going to come inside you, Luca. This part may hurt, but I’ll be as gentle as possible.”

At first his words failed to register. But when they did she shook her head back and forth. “Nooooo! You’re too… I’m too… it won’t work.”

“Trust me,” he reassured her. “It’s done all the time. Girls are married as young as thirteen and live through it. Most come to enjoy it. Now, look at me, sweetheart, I want to see your face when I come into you.”

He melded their bodies together, his flesh taut and slick as he carefully parted her. His silver gaze locked with hers as he wedged his great strength between her spread thighs. He thrust the throbbing knob of his sex inside her, paused, then thrust again. Luca stiffened, trying to heave his weight from her, desperate to avoid impalement.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he whispered against her lips. Then he flexed his hips and thrust again, driving himself through her maidenhead. “I’m all the way in!” he cried, exultant.

Pain. Relentless. Enduring. Tears stung her eyes; she tasted salt “S … stop! You’re killing me.” She stiffened and arched, trying to buck him off her.

“Easy,” he crooned, “easy. I promise it won’t hurt for long.” He moved experimentally, and Luca shuddered. Was there no way to escape this agony?

“It hurts, oh, God, it hurts.”

“I can’t stop now, sweetheart”

He smoothed the dark hair from her damp forehead and kissed her tenderly, waiting for her to grow accustomed to the intrusion into her virgin’s body. He kissed her until she began to relax and kiss him back, then he thrust forward, slowly, then out. She moaned but did not protest this subtle rocking.

Luca was stunned at Morgan’s gentleness, at the tender care he was taking of her. She doubted her intended husband would be so caring, so gentle with her on their wedding night. It was almost as if she were Morgan’s bride.

Morgan’s forehead glistened with sweat, his body drenched in it as he fought the urge to thrust himself to completion. He shouldn’t care so much about Luca’s comfort or pleasure, he told himself. He should do what his body demanded and to Hell with the woman. She was Spanish. She was the daughter of the man he had every reason to despise.