The Viscount's Addiction (9 page)

He reined Titus to a halt and dismounted. Both man and animal had worked up a sheen of sweat. Lord Blackwood’s broad chest heaved with his breathing. He was so beautiful she could not look away.

“Well, he didn’t throw you.” “Disappointed?”

“Perhaps a little,” she said with a laugh. “You failed to mention that you were a skilled horseman.”

“You never asked.” He stroked his long fingers through the horse’s mane. “He is a splendid animal. Strange, but that lameness seems to have gone away suddenly.” He smiled down at her.

Jessie felt a telltale blush rise in her cheeks. “Yes, indeed, Titus is a very fast healer.”

He laughed a deep heart-stirring laugh. He was irresistible when he was in a sullen mood, but in mirth he was truly glorious.

After handing her the reins, he strode over to the water pump and washed the sweat from his face. Lifting his head, he pushed the damp strands of black hair out of his eyes. With fascination, she watched the path of the water as it trickled down his throat to soak his shirt.

“I suppose you should cool your horse down before you turn him out to pasture.”

She stared at him, convinced she had not heard him correctly. “My horse?” she finally asked.

“This horse could not belong to anyone except the woman he adores.”

She resisted the urge to throw herself at him and pepper him with thank you kisses. She stiffened her spine. “I can’t accept this gift. Besides, I will be leaving soon. I won’t be able to take him with me.”

The haunted, hard look returned to his eyes. “Obedient in bed, but as stubborn as sin in daylight.” He grabbed her and pulled her hard against him. “Must we go over this again,” he said in a tone edged with anger. “As your husband, I have the law on my side. I will tell you when you can go.” He bent his head and traced the rim of her ear with his tongue. She felt her nipples harden instantly.

Her breath quickened as he yanked up the hem of her dress along with the single lightweight petticoat, revealing the tops of her naked thighs. His other hand caressed her triangle of curls. “I do like the way you dress. Or should I say don’t dress. You’ve even left off your stays today.” He inched the hem higher until she was exposed from the waist down. It was a part of her body that had never before been bared to the sunlight. “No detestable drawers, for which I am damned grateful. Not even a chemise. All I need do is lift your skirt to enjoy your cunt.”

It had not slipped her notice that the man knew
far
too much about female undergarments. “I learned to dress this way in Africa. It was always dreadfully hot— there.” She could barely speak as his thumb stroked her cleft. His skin was still cold from the water and it heightened the sensation. “Light and practical…” Her words trailed off as her head lolled back. She had just witnessed how intimidating this man could be and now she was a rag doll in his arms.

He tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. “This is exactly how I want you. Biddable,” he whispered into her ear. His gaze drifted downward, his silken lashes shadowing his cheeks as he stared at her nakedness. He groaned as he slid his finger inside her.

She grabbed his shirt to steady herself. Instinctively, she started thrusting against his hand. Growing lightheaded, she gripped his shoulders. He inserted another finger as he kissed and licked her throat. A cry of pleasure escaped her lips as he placed his thumb over her nub and rubbed. Her body felt near to surrendering as his callused thumb drew delicious circles. He pushed his muscular thigh between her legs and pressed it tight against the swollen folds of her pussy, forcing his fingers deeper.

The pressure of his leg combined with the exquisite feel of his invading fingers created a sweet tension that quickly sent her over the edge. He slanted his mouth over hers, swallowing her cry of pleasure as her muscles spasmed around his hand. The moment she collapsed against his chest, he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the stables. She reached up and stroked the hollow in his throat. Even that little indentation enthralled her.

A smooth wooden saddle rack stood in the middle of the nearly empty tack room.

His eyes were opaque with desire as he threw off her clothing, nearly tearing it in the process. He lifted her by the waist and plunked her unceremoniously on the saddle rack. With hurried jerks, he opened his trousers and his tantalizing cock sprang from its confinement. He clamped his mouth over hers. His kisses were deep and rough, his tongue exploring her mouth with savage possession. He dragged his mouth away and whispered harshly in her ear, his heavy breathing sending a tingle down her spine. “Spread your legs, woman.”

“Please fuck me.” As she put her hands behind her to support herself, her breasts thrust forward. She parted her legs wide. His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs kneading her hard nipples.

His eyes glinted with surprise at her shocking request. “I intend to do exactly that.” He pressed her thighs open to accommodate the width of him. The tip of his cock teased her wet pussy.

“Wider,” he insisted.

She opened more to him. Still unsatisfied, he took hold of her anklet and tugged at it as though it were a manacle that held her captive to his desires. She complied, spreading her legs so far that the muscles of her thighs vibrated. The cool air whispered over the moist heat of her pussy. He stroked and petted the pink folds until she was soaking wet. His fingers dug into her hips as he positioned his shaft and then shoved inside her.

It was an exquisite thrill to be impaled by him. Still aching with pleasure from her own climax, Jessie used her legs to clinch him tight inside her. Then he moved fast and hard, slamming against her and nearly bucking her off her perch. He withdrew as he climaxed, spending his hot seed on the straw strewn floor.

His abrupt conclusion made it painfully clear that the arrangement was temporary.

For him there was nothing beyond the wild satisfaction of their joining.

Under his intense scrutiny, she felt suddenly shy. What a fool she was, leaving herself so vulnerable. And she knew without doubt that she would make the same mistake over and over again until he tossed her out.

He continued to stare at her as he lifted her off the wooden rack. She reached down and plucked up her dress. As she straightened, she found his gaze still locked on her. He reached over and brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. The gentleness of his touch coupled with the penetrating look caused a painful lump to form in her throat.

As unbelievable as mating was with this man, she yearned for the emotional thrill she imagined came with shared love. At this point the love was unbalanced indeed; she was falling hard and fast for her
husband
.



Ryder sat in his father’s study—
his
study. He tapped the small brown bottle and watched the liquid wobble on the bottom. The euphoria he’d enjoyed only a few days ago had vanished. Now he was lucky if the opium stopped him from snarling all day. Without it he feared he would want to put his head through a wall. He hurled the bottle into the stone hearth and listened with some satisfaction as it splintered.

“Dammit,” he said through gritted teeth and heaved himself out of the chair. Hunkering down on his haunches before the hearth, he scavenged in the soot for the moist ashes. He dabbed his fingers in the soot and licked them clean. He was groveling like a beast and it made him shudder with disgust.

Stupid damn habit, compliments of his uncle, cousin and a corrupt prison system. “Bloody rubbish,” he said aloud. In truth, he really had only himself to blame for falling victim to its charm. He was easy prey to vices that intoxicated his senses it seemed. He’d been home a few days and he was already finding himself mentally and physically addicted to the exotic, golden-haired beauty living in his house. His wife. He found himself unable to clear his mind of her. Every inch of her made him lightheaded with desire. While fucking her, he could barely keep control of himself. It worried him. If he felt this way about her now, under the influence of a drug that deadened his senses, how would he react to her if he were clean of the stuff?

Ryder shook his head to remove the vision of Jessie naked and open-legged on the saddle rack.

He focused on the books in front of him and thought of her again. She’d rescued the estate from his relations’ greedy hands. Of course, the house and grounds had fallen into disrepair in his absence, but it was nothing that could not be fixed. She definitely had talents beyond tending his cock. It was a shame he would not be able to keep her around. But he had been tricked into the union, and he would not dignify the whole scheme by allowing her to stay. Now all he needed to do was extinguish the blazing need she inspired.

Suddenly, the draw of opium seemed weak in comparison to his hunger for her body…for her.

The sound of Lewis’s irritated voice filtered through the open door, shattering his soon-to-be erotic daydream.

“Get out of here, you filthy vagrant, before I beat your head in,” Lewis snapped.

Ever charming, the son-of-a-bitch. Ryder pitied the poor soul who’d shown up at the door. He glimpsed Jessie striding toward the entrance hall.

“Lewis,” she said, “I will handle this.”

“Fine. Why don’t you invite every criminal inside?” “Perhaps I will,” she answered sweetly.

Ryder got up from his desk and stepped out of the room. Cursing, Lewis pushed past him. Jessie was welcoming someone up the front steps.

“Come in. Let me get you something to drink,” she offered. “I thank you, miss. I’ve been on the road for days.”

Ryder recognized the scratchy voice immediately. He threw wide the front door. “William! I never thought I’d see you on the other side.”

Barely a freckle was distinguishable beneath the grime coating William’s face. “You left without saying your farewells, lad.”

“Sorry for my rudeness, Will, but once they let me out of that cage, I never looked back.”

William laughed, and it echoed in the cavernous entrance hall. “Aye, me, too.” William glanced upward at the high ceiling. “You weren’t spinnin’ me a yarn then, lad. You really are a lord?”

“That I am, Will.” Ryder held out his arms in a gesture that encompassed his dilapidated house. “Impressive, is it not?”

William surveyed the room. “It’s a bleedin’ palace.”

“It’s a wreck,” Ryder insisted. “And I could use your help in setting it to order.”

A dimple creased the man’s smudged cheek. “At your service, my lord.” William bent at the waist in a clownish bow.

Ryder gave his curly red head a smack. “Fawning from the man who had the Newgate guards cowed. Hardly believable.”

William straightened with a laugh. “I only wish I could have hurried Vickers and his ilk along to their own private place in hell.”

“That was a wish of mine, as well. I don’t suppose you’re hungry?” “I’m always hungry, lad.”

Not willing, he supposed, to stand too close to two alumni reliving their days in the gaol, Jessie had retreated and was standing behind him. He turned to her. “Jessie, if you don’t mind, we would like to dine early.”

She had a bemused expression on her face.

He took her wrist and brought her forward. “Let me introduce you to my wife.” Her arm twitched in his grip when he named her his spouse. It shocked him, as well, how easily he said the words.

“Wife? By Jove, aren’t you the secretive one! I didn’t know you were married.” “Believe me, I was even more surprised about it than you.”

William shot him a confused look then wasted no time returning his gaze to Jessie. “She’s a goddess. You don’t suppose I’ll find out that I have a surprise wife, too, do you? If so, I want one just like this one.”

Jessie wriggled her wrist from his grasp. “Well, perhaps when Lord Blackwood is through with me—”

“Come in and have a seat, William,” Ryder interrupted, giving her a quelling look.



Jessie prepared a meal of oats and sausage for the men and packed her breads for Lucy. She was glad Lord Blackwood would be occupied so she could leave unnoticed. Having grown used to her independence, it was strange having this intimidating man suddenly deciding her life. She wrapped herself in her cape and hurried to the stables, determined to make it to the tavern and back before anyone noticed.

It was a short visit. Lucy was more listless than usual, offering an affectionate but wan smile when Jessie presented her with berries from her garden.

After taking a detour to visit her neighbor, Miss Whitcomb, Jessie returned to Tesslyn Hall. The afternoon sky was patterned with wispy clouds and the air had cooled by the time she stabled Titus. She froze as she heard someone enter the darkened barn.

“Where have you been, wife? Visiting
friends
again?” Ryder’s voice was quiet.

“Yes, as a matter of fact.”

As he approached, the sound of his heavy boots was muffled by the straw covering the ground. Weak sunlight shone through the hole in the roof, illuminating his face. There was a fiendish glint in his beautiful eyes. One side of his irresistible mouth was kicked up in a playful grin. He reached out and hooked his finger in her neckline, pulling it down low, nearly exposing her breasts. He leaned forward and traced her cleavage with his tongue then lifted his dark head. The heavy-lidded look he gave her was so sensual, she became wet with desire.

“I have plans for you tonight, woman. I intend to fuck you until the sun comes up, so get some rest.” He leaned forward and kissed her taut nipple through the sheer muslin of her dress before turning to leave.

Jessie shoved her hands into the pockets of her pelisse to prevent herself from clutching at his shirt. She was burning for him now. She wished he had taken her right then and there. Closing her eyes for a moment, she imagined him ripping her clothing into shreds, leaving her completely nude.

Lord Blackwood was wrong. She did not need rest. She needed routine, something that would put this marriage into perspective. A way to get her mind off of her husband. She would call on the Ducketts. The twins were always an amusing diversion. Balancing the sidesaddle on her hip, she strode toward the stall door. Titus would surely protest when he saw the saddle again, but it was too far to walk. Yes, a ride over familiar meadows might set her head on straight.