Jennifer Haymore

by The Devil's Pearl

  Slowly, she shook her head. “I thought that was how you saw me. That was all I was to you. Nothing more than someone to tup and then dismiss until the next time. Until, eventually, there wouldn’t be a next time. You’d be finished with me.”

  A muscle jerked in Dev’s jaw. “No.”

  “When I was ten years old, I saw it with my own eyes, Devlin. I woke up one night to the sound of one of my father’s mistresses pounding on the door.” Julia wrapped her arms around herself and gazed past him, out over the ordered rows of coats that lined Algernon’s shop, remembering. “My window looked out over the front door of our house. It must have just finished raining because the ground was wet, and so was the woman. Her hair hung in sad, dripping strings. She was distraught, crying, screaming that she was Eliza; didn’t my father remember her? She sobbed that he’d promised to love her, that she was with child and she had no money, no one to turn to. She begged for his help.”

  Dev’s lips pressed into a flat line. “What happened?”

  “My father came outside and spoke harshly to her. I heard him say, ‘Go away. How dare you come to my home?’ It took four men to drag her off—she was so desperate, she fought and screamed until I couldn’t see her anymore. But the image of her—the woman my father cast off, that desperate, beleaguered woman with tears streaming down her thin, haggard face, haunted my dreams. What happened to her? There was no way for me to find out. She was probably sent to a workhouse. Or worse.” She squeezed her arms even tighter around her body and blinked hard. “I think I might have a younger sister or brother somewhere…and I’ll never find them.”

  “Did you try?” he asked gently.

  She shrugged. “My father died a year after that, and I was sent to live with my uncle. I have no way to find her—all I have is her first name. Do you know how many Elizas there are in London?”

  “No,” he said.

  She gave him a sad half smile. “Thousands.”

  “I could find them for you,” he said. “If you wished it.”

  Her heart filled a little. What a sweet thing for him to say. “Would you?”

  He shook his head, frowning as if disappointed she’d ask. “Of course. I’d do anything for you. Anything you ask.” He stepped onto the first step, bringing his face even with hers. “You do know not all men are like your father, don’t you?”

  “My uncle was the same way,” she whispered.

  He reached out to drag the wayward strand of hair out of her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. “I’m not your father. I’m not your uncle. I can see why you’d believe I was after what I did—or rather what I didn’t do—when we were together. But I promise you, that is never how I thought of you. I fell in love with you. I wanted forever.”

  Her knees turned to water. But he was there on the step with her, his arms around her, holding her up, stroking her lower back beneath her muslin gown. He stared into her face, so close her skin prickled from his heat.

  “I’ve thought about you hundreds of times a day, every day, for the past year. I missed you…so much.” He drew in a shaky breath.

  “Oh, Dev.”

  “It drove me mad thinking you were with other men when I wanted you so badly, when I had offered you my heart and my soul.”

  “But you didn’t—” she began.

  He pressed his fingers to her lips. “I’m no good with words, Julia. I thought you knew. You saw me at…when I was most vulnerable…in ways nobody else did, and I thought you understood the power you held over me.”

  She shook her head helplessly.

  “I wanted to make you mine. I wanted—needed—you beside me. I wanted to keep you with me, and since I knew you wouldn’t come willingly, I felt like I had no choice but to force it upon you.”

  She caressed his big shoulders through his coat.

  “I was a fool,” he said. “I made assumptions. I was wrong.”

  She had been a fool, too, making her own assumptions about him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked softly. “Why didn’t you give me a sign?”

  “I thought the trinkets would be enough. I thought the lovemaking would be enough. I didn’t know you wanted more.”

  She pressed her cheek to his chest. “I needed you to say it. I needed to believe it.”

  “I love you.” He drew back and kissed her lips, her cheek, her temple. “I always have. I always will.” His words were soft tickles of pleasure over her skin.

  All of Julia’s resistance fled. She no longer cared what happened tomorrow or beyond. There was only this moment, with Devlin holding her, caressing her, finally saying the words she had never imagined she’d hear.

  He loved her.

  He grasped her face in his hands, angling her head up to his, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks. “I am no good with words. Let me show you how I feel.”

  She stared into his tormented eyes and knew she could not deny him. She could never deny him. Her pride had vanished and her soul had inexorably twisted with his. She would do whatever it took to be with him for as long as he would have her. “Show me, then.”

  He brushed his lips over hers in a soft, long stroke. “Tell me you will have me.”

  “Yes.”

  He dropped his hands to her shoulders and pulled her body tightly against his.

  “Please…tell me you won’t leave me again.”

  “Never.” She closed her eyes with the finality of that word. It was the truth. She was pouring all of herself into his hands. The choice to nurture or destroy was his now.

  “I’ve got to have you,” he gritted. “I can’t wait any longer. Please say yes, Julia.”

  She looked up at him—at his taut cheeks, his blazing eyes, his clenched teeth—and knew he had exposed himself completely, laid himself bare at her feet. At her mercy. Her voice was hardly above a whisper. She rocked against his hard body. “Yes. Yes. Please.”

  She leaned forward and swiped her tongue over his lips, then sucked his lower lip between her teeth. Her hands roamed over his torso, exploring its rippling strength through all the layers of his clothing.

  He parted her lips with his tongue, then thrust in, claiming her mouth. Heat poured through Julia like a fluid key, opening all the parts of her she had tried to keep locked from him.

  Suddenly he pulled away, holding her around the neck with one hand and at the small of her back with the other.

  “Sit.”

  He lowered her into a sitting position on one of the steps and went down on his knees before her, his eyes narrow and intent.

  “Lift your skirts. Let me see you.”

  Shuddering, she lifted them and opened her legs wide, exposing herself. She hadn’t yet dressed for going out and she was still bare beneath her chemise.

  “You are an angel.” He moved in, the heat of his breath licking her thighs. “I want to taste you.”

  “Yes. Please.” She raised her hips off the step as he brought his head down, covering her with his mouth.

  He grasped her waist and explored her, slowly moving his tongue along her folds, circling with tender care then dipping inside. A sweet, prickling sensation flooded her. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and gave herself over to it.

  Beads of sweat broke out over her chest and at her temples. He gave a long, husky purr, and the sound resonated through her body, bunching her nerves. Her leg muscles clenched around him.

  His mouth moved higher and his hand took over the invasion. He worked her with one finger and then two, stroking her from the inside as his tongue fluttered over her. Julia moaned, feeling as though she might jump out of her overcharged skin, and a deep quiver rippled through her body, radiating outward over her arms and legs.

  The last residual struggle melted inside her, her muscles opened and she lifted her hips higher and spread her legs wider, pushing his face and his fingers deeper into her.

  Her desire raged and coiled tighter and she arched and twisted, squirming to get away but at the same time reaching fo
r more. He trapped her, held her, forced himself even deeper, and shoved her over the edge. He absorbed her movements, stretching the quivering pulses into long, slow drags until she finally collapsed in a boneless heap on the steps.

  He kissed her, stroked her gently, slowly moving his caresses down her thigh and then emerging over her, looking down at her through hooded eyes.

  “Do you…” he rasped. “Can you love me?”

  “I do love you, Dev.” She gazed up at him, her heart constricting. Love seemed an inadequate description for her feelings. “I’ve loved you for so long.”

  “Do you…want me?” His eyes were dark, intent.

  She nodded. She wanted him so badly.

  He held her gaze, but his voice was scraped raw. “Forever?”

  “Yes. Forever. Always.” She wouldn’t survive any other way.

  In an instant he rose to his feet and gathered her in his arms, carrying her easily up the stairs. “I am taking you to bed.”

  She closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of his powerful arms holding her but embarrassed by her lack of finery. “You won’t find my bed acceptable, Dev.”

  He bent to kiss her forehead. “It will do.”

  In her room, the fire had burnt to embers and her tea sat untouched upon her tiny table. He knelt down and laid her gently on the bed, which was nothing more than a small cot pushed against the wall.

  “It is yours. It smells like you. It is perfect.” He ran his hands over her tattered quilt. “When you come to live with me, I want you to bring it along.”

  She laughed, feeling freer in her own skin than she could remember ever having felt, thinking of her little cot sitting beside the grand furniture in his Mayfair home.

  Their gazes tangled and held.

  “I want you naked,” he said.

  “I want you naked, too.”

  They stripped each other slowly, peeling off layers of clothing, exploring each new bit of revealed flesh with their tongues and fingers. The only item Dev took care with was his greatcoat, which he draped neatly over her chair. The rest, including her gown, petticoat, stays, and chemise ended scattered across the floor planking.

  As she unbuttoned his shirt, he caught her hand. She curled it into a fist, but he gently forced her fingers open. One by one, he kissed her raw fingertips. “You’re hurt, Jewel.”

  “It is nothing,” she whispered.

  His hand tightened over hers. “I don’t ever want to hurt you again.”

  “I did this to myself. Not because you hurt me, but because I was afraid you might.”

  “For God’s sake, Julia. I would never hurt you.”

  She closed her eyes. “Not in a physical way, Dev. I was never concerned about that.”

  It was Algernon and Thomas she had been concerned for that night. She hadn’t known Dev’s actions had been born of desperation and deep-seated pain—emotions unfamiliar and devastating to a man like Devlin Vaughn.

  “God knows I don’t want to cause you any kind of pain. I never have. I know my actions hurt you, but that was unintentional.” He gave a wry smile and cupped her cheek. “I think I understand how your mind works now, but it is a complicated mind, and the workings of a woman’s mind is one of the great mysteries of the world. So you must promise me something.”

  She leaned forward and kissed his chest, then pulled the shirt over his head. “What’s that?” She trailed her fingertips over his chest, her lips twitching as he shuddered from her touch.

  “Promise me you’ll tell me if I behave like the oaf.” His tone was light, but his gaze was serious. “Promise me that if you ever fear I might hurt you again, you’ll tell me before running away.”

  She rested her forehead against his chest, then looked up at him with stinging eyes and said solemnly, “I promise, Dev. I shouldn’t have run from you like that at the opera. That was pure cowardice.”

  And she knew now that if she’d simply opened her heart to him and been brave enough to tell him her fears, the devastations of the last year might never have come to pass.

  She knelt before him, slowly unbuttoning the falls of his trousers, her heart hammering against her ribcage. She should be cold, for it was a dismal day outside and the fire was out. But heat pulsed through her veins. She slipped the final button free and pushed his trousers down his legs.

  If she was hot, he was boiling, so hot and hard and strong looming over her.

  She touched her tongue to his shaft, then turned her face to stroke its blazing length along her cheek as she watched expressions of pleasure cross over his face.

  “You are so marvelous,” she murmured.

  He gave her a bemused look and braced one hand on the wall. “Am I?”

  “Oh yes. You are so solid, like marble, but velvet soft at the same time. And when you are inside me”—she licked from base to head—“you stroke me in places I never knew existed.”

  Devlin groaned. She wrapped her lips around him. His thickness tested her mouth’s limits, but she opened wider, stretching so he could fill her. Slowly she moved her lips down until he pushed against the back of her throat. Even more slowly, she pulled back, swirling her tongue over him as she did.

  “Julia,” he growled, “I have to be inside you.”

  Trailing little kisses down the length of him, she murmured, “Yes,” and turned away to climb on the bed.

  “Stop,” he ground out.

  Julia froze on her hands and knees, then looked back over her shoulder at him. His gaze was riveted to her. From this angle, he could see all of her. It reminded her of that day long ago, the last time she’d seen him at the inn. She’d been on her forearms and knees, her back arched. His hands had covered her behind and he’d called her pretty, before he’d taken her with his mouth.

  “Tilt your arse higher into the air,” he whispered, watching her intently. “Let me see you.”

  She did as she was told, leaning down onto her forearms and closing her eyes to focus on controlling her shuddering body.

  He quoted himself almost to the word. “Such a pretty sight.”

  Julia smiled as he dropped to his knees behind her, rubbing against her. One of his hands stroked along her back and waist, moving up to smooth over her breast, sending a jolt of liquid lust straight through her. Back and forth he stroked, teasing her, until her every breath caught and released on a little moan.

  All Julia wanted was to be open for him, for him to bury himself deep inside her. “Please, Dev,” she moaned again and again, arching her back, wiggling, trying to force him in. “Oh, please, please.”

  Ever so slowly, the invasion began. He tunneled into her inch by inch, each little push stretching her wide, building sensation until she thought she would tear down the walls with her need. When she couldn’t bear any more, he pushed himself in deeper, and she shuddered. Then he dragged himself out, grazing every sensitive nerve, and the delicious torture began all over again.

  His heat sizzled inside her. The exquisite pleasure of being taken, of Devlin driving in and out of her, his hands on her waist yanking her body against his own, nearly drowned her. Nothing in the world existed beyond their powerful connection, loosening and then tightening and solidifying with every one of his forceful thrusts.

  White-hot delirium took over, and she lost herself in her impending orgasm as it welled up and began to overtake her. But he heaved himself out, all the way out, and before she knew it, he had turned her onto her back.

  “Must see your face,” he gritted out. She stared at him, at the flush streaking across his cheekbones, at the tight set of his jaw, at his bared teeth. Their eyes locked, and he thrust home.

  Her body demanded she break off the eye contact, close her eyes and lose herself in the sensations. But she fought it. She needed to keep this connection with him. The force of it became more profound with every drive, building until their eyes seemed linked by some powerful energy neither of them could deny.

  Again the whiteness loomed up—swirling clouds ready to dri
ve her under. Devlin’s thrusts grew harder and faster. Sweat trickled down his brow. His breath sawed in his chest. But the connection between them only grew stronger, thicker, more immutable with every deep penetration. Together they hurtled toward a precipice. It frightened Julia, for she could not imagine what lay on the other side. But it was unavoidable. Devlin groaned. He grew bigger inside her, stretching her to her limit. She couldn’t bear it. The edge was near.

  She plummeted over, drowning in white heat, tumbling through it. Dimly, she heard her own moans mingling with his low cries. And then she knew he had fallen over too, and he was pumping deep inside her, and they were pulsing around each other in time, as if they were made for each other. And all the while, she stared into his eyes.

  * * *

  Much later, Julia felt stirring beside her. She opened her eyes to darkness. She stretched languidly and saw that Devlin had risen and was stoking the fire. Eventually he got it started again and lit her lamp.

  He turned from the fire to see her sitting up on the side of the bed. “Sorry to wake you.”

  He wore only his trousers, and firelight flicked off his torso in shades of gold. She pulled the quilt to cover herself, suddenly feeling shy. The corner of his mouth quirked in a cocky grin. “It is not necessary to hide anything from me, Jewel. I’ve seen it all, you know.”

  “I know, I just—” She sighed. “I don’t know.”

  That fear she thought she’d banished trickled in, cutting tiny incisions into her patched-up heart. What would happen now?

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  “Famished.” His gaze raked her body and she felt a blush heating her cheeks. A blush! She couldn’t account for it.

  “I haven’t much. Algernon usually brings his cook when he’s here to work, and she leaves me my dinner, but on Sundays I eat simply.”

  He opened her cupboard. “Bread and cheese! A bit of pie! Oh and look, there’s some sherry! We will eat like kings.”

  She grinned, running her toes along the cold planks of the floor. “With you,” she whispered, “anything is a feast.”

  He sobered instantly and turned from the cupboard to gaze at her.