The Blue Diamond (The Razor's Edge Book 1) (7 page)

“Zara is a miracle worker.
When she was finished with my hair, I couldn’t even find the piece you whipped
off,” Ivory said with a laugh.

Carbonale was trembling, and
he rubbed his damp palms down each side of his hips to dry and steady them. His
mind fell backwards to sitting at her bedside, holding that piece of hair
between his fingers, and the urge in his chest to lean down and kiss every
strand. He breathed in deeply and stared out across the water for a moment
before he filled the glasses and turned to carry them to the table.

“Thank you. If I’m to die,
please don’t send me to the gallows sober, Maddox—that’s all I ask,” Ivory
stated, again with a laugh, and raised her glass to him.

His jaw tightened, and he
clenched his fists on his thighs. “May I ask you a serious question?”

“Well, if you have any
questions, I’d say you better get them off your chest before…”

“Can you please,
please
stop with the remarks about
dying? I told you they most likely will not hang you. Odds are, they’ll simply
put you on a ship back to wherever you came from,” he stated and slammed his
palm on the table.

“Oh, I doubt that. Fifty
thousand pounds sounds like a hanging to me,” she said whimsically, waving the
rum in the air and then pulling it to her lips.

“Now, that is quite enough.
Let’s…let’s just drink in peace.”

Carbonale leapt to his feet
again and walked to the window, watching as the light began to fade. Ivory
downed the rum and attempted to stand to refill her glass, but struggled to
release herself from the chair. She was trapped, and in more trouble trying to
stand than she’d been in trying to sit. The table shook and the plates rattled as
she fussed and cursed, tugging at the thick material, until the chair, as well
as she and her glass, toppled over backwards onto the floor with a crash.

Carbonale raced across the
room and found her laughing hysterically on her back, but still seated in the
chair. “My goodness, is everything either a tragedy or a comedy to you?” He
bent down on one knee and leaned over her, pulling the dress and the chair in
opposite directions as she wiggled about trying to free herself. “For Heaven’s
sake, hold still, will you? And allow me to…”

Her face was but a breath
away from his as he leaned in over her. He froze, lost completely in her smile
and azure eyes until his right hand betrayed him and brushed beneath her jaw,
taking her chin between his ringed fingers.
 
His traitorous left slid beneath the small of her back. An invisible
force grew out from her and grabbed him, pulling him down until his lips
brushed against hers—once, then again. He struggled against it and pulled back
but she matched his every move, and he realized his hands weren’t able to let
go.

Ivory blinked and sighed,
sending the scent of her one glass of rum across his mouth and up into his
nose. When he pulled back yet again, the chair fell free, causing her to fly
into him as if she’d been shot from a cannon. Carbonale landed on his back with
her on top of him, his left hand still holding her, with his right now tied up
in her curls. His rings had somehow managed to become completely entangled in
her hair.

“Well, isn’t this a
spectacle?” he said against her lips whilst staring up into her eyes.

“Maddox, are we just going
to lie here and breathe on each other all night?”

“Well, I suppose we could…”

Ivory reached down and
thrust her hands into the mass of shiny dark curls around his face and pinched them
tightly in her hands. “It seems I again have you at a disadvantage, Captain.”

“You forget we are yet
attached by this unfortunate mishap, Madame Shepard.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.”
She released his hair and began the delicate task of untangling her own from
around his rings. “There you go. You’re free,” she said, detaching his hand and
pushing it down above his head.

“May I ask what you plan to
do with me, Madame?” He smirked.

“I told you, you’re free.
You’ve but to stand and go.” He didn’t move. She pulled at the heavy skirt to
free her legs in order to stand, but his hand swiftly grabbed her by the back
of her neck and held her atop him. Again, her hands flew up into his hair and
held tight as she covered his mouth with hers, kissing him deeply until he
stirred beneath her and kissed her back. His arms flew around her, capturing
her in his embrace and rolling her onto her back on the rug. His lips wrapped
around hers, again and again, forcing them apart as if he would swallow her
whole.

“You now have me at a
disadvantage, Captain,” she panted, as his kisses explored her face and neck,
until he passed her collar bone and found the still tender pink flesh of her
breasts swelling under the pressure of his weight and rising up over the top of
her bodice.

“What disadvantage might
that be?” he groaned as he continued to devour her, and then he glanced down
and pressed his tongue into the deep crease between her compressed bosoms.

“Your lips are like moist
pillows against my burned skin. I’d call that a disadvantage for me, since I am
burned in many places which may require the same tender attention.” She sighed
heavily over and over.

Passion had completely
overtaken reason and stolen away any sense of condition or position either of
them held. He wanted her in his bed, all night, so that he could tell her the
truth again and again, until she was completely and eternally convinced—to the
point of his own exhaustion. He climbed to his feet and pulled her up with one
jerk of her wrist. One by one, he removed his rings and chains and tossed them
onto the table. He scooped her up into his arms and flew down the hallway to
his room like a ship at full mast.

“What if I tell you no? What
if I say to you, now, that this is wrong, and we have to stop?” Ivory
whispered, pressed into his arms as he pushed those velvet lips against hers
hard and fast, stealing the words from her tongue and eating the no’s. He spun
her around and tore at the laces down her back, finally freeing her, and he
gripped her bare breasts as he nuzzled her neck from behind.

Carbonale lifted her again
and lay her softly on his bed. He roughly removed his doublet and tossed it
along with his belt to the floor. “What if I say to you that if I cannot have
all of you tonight, I will come to you in your dreams and take you there? Or
that I will sleep outside of your door until you come to your senses and let me
in to have my way with you?” He carried on, peeling the shirt from his back,
exposing his thick, chiseled chest and beyond, to where his pants now lay low
on his hips. Ivory’s eyes spied the splash of soft, dark hair that grew out
from the center of his body and followed it to where it rose from deep below
his navel. She traced it with her fingers from its origin all the way to his
sternum, while he crept like a cat onto the bed, kneeling over her.

“There is no way I could
keep you out. You hold the key that keeps me in.”

“I would wish only for the
key to your complete submission. I implore you to give me the key to all of
your locked doors, Ivory Shepard.”

“I will give you all of me
on one condition,” Ivory said over a long sigh.

“Say it.”

“From this night on, you can
never, ever, tell me no.”

Carbonale climbed above her
and kissed her tenderly, and then he leaned down and pressed his lips to her
ear to breathe the words, “If I ever tell you no…kill me.”

“Kill you? Perhaps twenty
four hours ago, given the strength and better judgment, I’d have slit you from
gold earring to gold earring . Now, I can think of nothing but keeping you
alive for my own pleasure,” Ivory whispered, as Carbonale’s hands reached
roughly beneath the heavy fabric of her skirt and gripped the smooth flesh of
her upper thighs.
 
He smiled up at her in
surprise.

“Do you always go without
underthings?”

“I don’t see their point.
Besides, you’re looking for my manhood, correct?” she gasped and was silenced
by his probing tongue and the sudden thrust of an exploring finger. “Well,
you’ve certainly proved my point,” she panted when his lips slid to her throat.

“What will it take to
silence you for a while?” he asked, looking up at her from between her breasts
while still probing her beneath her gown. His one raised eyebrow and rolling
eyes signified he had no more use for words.

“I’d say you’re almost
halfway…there. Don’t give up so easily, Captain.” She writhed and sighed.

“I can assure you I have not
come this far to surrender. I’d kiss you into silence, but alas my dear girl,
my mouth has much more land to cover, and I’ve wasted far too much time keeping
you quiet when I could be making you scream,” he growled. “However, please
remember while I’m busy moving forward on my quest, that what I am about to
do…is your fault,” he whispered, tossing her skirt up and over her face before
taking hold of her thigh and biting it, as if it were a smooth, ripe peach—but
only for a taste, not to chew and swallow.

Ivory let out a gasp again,
pushing the skirt below her eyes and raising her head just enough to see the
top of his head. She bit her lip and watched, as he worked his way up the
inside of her leg, nip by nip, tasting her. Her stare was barely broken by
blinks, so as not to miss a second of his exploration of her flesh, which
quivered at the thought of his next move. She struggled to remind herself where
she was and why, but the strength of her attraction to Maddox overpowered her.
Regardless of her circumstances, her desire for this man was unconquerable.

The skirt was like a vice
around her middle and she squirmed to reach back and untie herself from the
binding brocade.
 
Finally, out of
complete frustration, Maddox flipped her over, scrambled to his dresser drawer
for a hidden dagger, and slit the material repeatedly, until it tore away in
shreds.

“It’s a good thing you have
dozens of…” Ivory twisted back to speak, but his hand covered her mouth, and he
pulled his index finger to his lips with the other.

As she turned and sat up
naked on the side of the bed, his huge hand still covered her mouth. She
reached out for him, sliding her hands over his stomach as he sighed and stared
down at her. Upon her touch, his hands pulled away and fell limp at his sides.
He watched, motionless, as she gripped his hips and pulled him closer to where
she sat on the edge of the bed, and glided her fingers around his waist. His
pants, now but a firm tug from the floor, held back the arousal which grew from
his first taste of her lips on the dining room floor. Now, so close to feeling
her warm softness around him, he found his body pressed snuggly between her
thighs.

A lightheaded feeling swept
over him when he looked down into her eyes. His head fell back, and he glared
at the golden circles of candlelight on the ceiling, searching for reality and
trying to break the spell. Her hands explored beneath the material of his pants
and found the two thick, round mounds of flesh below his spine, which filled
each of her hands. She held on as they tensed and tightened at her touch, and
she pulled him to her, covering his stomach with light, warm kisses.

Carbonale ground himself
against her as she continued kneading and clawing at his buttocks, pulling him
closer to her with each flex of her fingers. His hands, which moments before
lay lifeless at his sides, were now wrapped tightly in what was left of her
perfectly coiffed curls, and he jerked back her head to bend down and again
press hard and deliberatly deep kisses into her mouth.

Ivory was finally silent.
Despite her reputation for using and tossing men at will, she could count on
one hand the true number of men she’d allowed past her waist, and less than
that whose advances she’d actually welcomed.
 
Now, surrounded by the glowing amber of candlelight and the sound of
hammering waves from the beach beneath the bedroom window, her heart pounded
and her breath was stolen away before his lips ever reached the ache between
her thighs. “What men do this glorious thing you’ve done, and do not find
themselves with some lovelorn woman on her knees, waiting for him every time he
leaves her bed?” Ivory spoke breathlessly.

“I know nothing of what
other men do, nor do I care.” He breathed into her stomach.

“Other men…I must be losing
my mind, for there is no other alive worthy of the title,” she sighed, running
her fingers through his thick hair, pulling at him at last to enter her.

Their lovemaking was equal
parts lust and generous pleasure, and as much as he gave to her, in return she
cared only for his gratification. She surrendered herself to his every touch
and whim, as he responded in turn to each muscle that moved beneath her skin
with either a rough caress or tender kiss, whichever he felt was desired in the
moment. Ivory was in awe of his ability to know from second to second what she
wanted, and more importantly, what she needed. All the while, he held onto the
restraint which left him weaker with every twist and turn he took to pleasure
her again and again, leaving his own satisfaction to the wind, until he felt
her body fall completely still.

Maddox rolled off of her and
lay there, trying to catch his breath.
 
Once on his back, he lifted her as if she were no more than a feather
and sat her upon his stomach. He stroked her thighs as they curled around him,
and she lay down against him. “What are you weaving, Ivory Shepard? What black
magic is this you are spinning?”