Blackthorne's Bride

by Shana Galen

  "Oh." Maddie giggled. Her stomach felt like it was in knots, and she couldn't stop trembling. "Straw." She felt like a silly schoolgirl before an examination.

  Except her tutors had usually been women.

  Clothed women.

  Jack reached out, slowly, and Maddie felt his hand caress her hair. He pulled a piece of straw from the mess and then reached for her again.

  "More?" she asked, her voice high-pitched and nervous.

  "Mmm-hmm." His hand cupped the back of her head, fingers entangling in her long curls. "More."

  He bent to kiss her, his mouth cool and moist from his earlier swim. He was still dripping wet, dampening her own clothing, but as soon as she felt his body press up against hers, she forgot about keeping her clothing dry.

  She was hungry for him, hungry to feel that skin she had so admired against her own skin, and hungry for the taste of his mouth. She had gone too long without his lips on hers.

  And when she finally got her first taste of him, it was like coming home. It felt so right and so wicked and so ... shallow. She wanted more. She wanted to kiss him deeper, more thoroughly, until she could not get enough.

  She responded to his kiss by devouring him with abandon. She would have been embarrassed at her enthusiasm if she'd been able to think of anything other than the sleek skin of his chest beneath the pads of her fingers and the strength of his arms as they pulled her closer.

  They stumbled, Jack pulling her forward so that her shoes were soon wet and mired in the sand of the pond. But she didn't care. His hands had slipped the shoulders of her gown down, and his lips were teasing her ear, her neck, the spot at the base of neck and shoulder.

  Maddie shivered when his hands cupped her breasts, kneading them and pulling her gown down to reveal her to his gaze and the cool morning air.

  "Wait," he said.

  She had closed her eyes, and now opened them and stared at him. Wasn't she supposed to tell him to wait?

  He ran his fingers through his wet hair again, and Maddie had to restrain herself from wrapping her arms around him and stepping back into the circle of his naked arms.

  "Slow down," he said. "In a moment I'll have you on your back, waterlogged, your skirt up around your neck."

  The idea didn't sound unappealing, as long as he kept rubbing his warm skin over her and touching her with those talented fingers and that persuasive mouth.

  But then he stepped back and she saw that what she had assumed was his hip pressing against her abdomen was actually quite another part of him entirely. Hard, swollen, and thick, the sight of his manhood sent a tremor of fear shooting through her.

  "Perhaps you are right," she said, moving back farther. "We should take this slow."

  Jack took her elbow, halting her retreat. "Not that slow," he said, mischief in his eyes. "I want time to undress you. See you. Savor you."

  "Undress me?" Maddie said, trying to step away again. "But—" She gestured helplessly to the open space around them.

  Jack gestured to his own naked form. "It's only fair."

  Maddie didn't have an argument for that, and yet, she felt she needed to argue. It was one thing to kiss Jack and become swept away in the moment, quite another to allow him to make love to her outside, in broad daylight. In the sunshine, she couldn't even pretend she wasn't Lady Madeleine. And though Lady Madeleine would certainly do her duty by her husband, that did not mean she would do so with wanton disregard for propriety.

  "I know that look." Jack reached out and stroked her forehead. "Stop worrying. In fact, don't think at all. Just feel."

  He caressed her cheek, touched her chin, and then moved his hand to run his fingers along the sensitive skin of her collarbone. Maddie shivered as he drew her in and kissed her lightly, his hands reaching back to unfasten her gown.

  "Jack," she murmured. "I don't know about this."

  "Shh," he said, bending to kiss her neck as he slipped the gown farther down. "You can't bathe fully clothed." His breath was warm on her ear, and his hands had worked her gown down over her hips and were lingering there. "You do want a bath, don't you?"

  She dearly wanted a bath. She couldn't wait to rinse off all the grime from their journey.

  But a bath with Jack watching?

  He removed her stays, then reached for her chemise, and Maddie's hands caught his. "I should keep this on."

  He glanced at her, then continued to undress her. "Have you ever swum naked in a pond?" he asked.

  Maddie swallowed and shook her head. She could feel the cool breeze on her calves and then on her knees as her chemise rode higher and higher.

  "You're going to love it," he whispered, and she knew he was right.

  He tugged her farther into the water, pulling her chemise over her head and tossing it onto the bank behind them. And then, just as the cold water started to make her shiver, he closed his warm, naked body around her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Maddie shivered from the contrast between the heat of Jack's body and the cool water of the pond.

  She was naked.

  She was naked and pressed against her equally naked husband.

  In full daylight, no less! She couldn't even blow out a candle and seek privacy in darkness. No, he could see every inch of her. And he would, as soon as he released her.

  Unless he didn't release her ...

  Maddie wrapped her arms around Jack and buried her neck in his chest. He smelled like sunshine and blue skies and shaving lotion. She noted once again that his face was clean and smooth. He must have borrowed a razor from the farmer.

  She'd almost grown used to seeing him with that black beard, and he looked younger without it.

  Jack began to pull away, but Maddie wouldn't allow it. She stayed pressed against him, hiding her too-ample breasts and hips from his eyes.

  When he tried to step back again, she went with him, and he almost lost his balance. "I had no idea you liked me this much," he drawled when she still wouldn't release him.

  "I don't like you this much," she retorted, and kept her arms firmly clenched around him.

  "Then let go," he said.

  "What? And parade myself in front of everyone? I don't think so."

  His laughter rumbled through her. "Parade yourself? And who's everyone? It's only you and me."

  "That's not the point."

  "Fine." Jack grasped her chin and forced her to look him in the eye. "We'll walk into deeper water."

  Staring into his eyes made her think of kissing him again, and that made her shiver again, but she managed to nod and follow him farther out. Her body was becoming accustomed to the water temperature, and when she finally released him and ducked under, the water felt perfect.

  She dipped her head back, wetting her hair and face, then came up smiling at Jack, who was standing in water to his neck. She could barely touch the pond's floor on tiptoes.

  "Better?" Jack asked.

  Maddie smiled and nodded.

  "And what do you think of swimming without clothes?"

  "It's deliciously wicked," she answered. "I feel like the most sinful libertine."

  Maddie felt her face heat, and she ducked under again. When she came up, he was still looking at her, his swept-back hair making the hard planes of his jaw and cheekbones stand out. His black lashes were wet and spiky, and his dark eyes were filled with mischief and something that looked very much like desire.

  "So I've married a wanton libertine. My luck improves day by day."

  Maddie, treading water now, shook her head. "But that's the problem, Jack. I'm not a libertine. I'm Lady Madeleine. I shouldn't be doing this." She gestured to the pond and her lonely clothes, balled up on the shore.

  "Who says?" He moved closer to her, and Maddie treaded water faster.

  "I—I imagine everyone would say so. This isn't proper."

  "Not proper for Lady Madeleine." He came closer still, and Maddie thought she felt his leg brush hers under the water. She looked down but saw only her own rapidly
peddling legs. "But what you have failed to consider, my lady"—Jack reached out to her, his hand skimming the surface of the water—"is that you are no longer Lady Madeleine. Now you're Lady Blackthorne. My wife."

  Maddie raised her eyebrows. She hadn't thought of that. She was Lady Blackthorne. She was a marchioness. "And who is Lady Blackthorne?" she asked. "I don't know anything about her."

  "She's whoever you want her to be," Jack said, his voice low and husky. "She's part Lady Madeleine and part someone else entirely."

  "Who?"

  He held his hand out again. "Come here and I'll show you."

  Her heart was beating fast now as she put her hand in Jack's and allowed him to pull her body into his. Even under the water she could feel the heat of him. His skin was warm and sleek and hard, and she rubbed wantonly against him. Without the constraints of gravity, he held her in his arms easily, and his hands were everywhere—cupping her behind, her breasts, her hips.

  And she was just as liberal with her touches. She rubbed a hand against the light smattering of hair on his smooth chest, traced a finger down his hard abdomen, and brushed against the evidence of his desire for her.

  "Put your legs around me," he whispered into her ear, and her whole body quivered. "Put your legs around my waist."

  "Is that the kind of thing Lady Blackthorne would do?"

  "God, I hope so," he answered.

  She moved forward, wrapping her legs around him, pressing against those sleek muscles and feeling his hands support her back and buttocks. Every inch of her was molded to every inch of him, and, between them, pressed his hard member.

  "I want you, Maddie," he whispered. "I want to slip inside you and make you my wife."

  "I want that, too," she whispered.

  "How much?" he asked, stroking her nipple until it peaked with need. "Enough to allow me to make you ready? Enough to do something truly wanton?"

  Maddie felt the blood pound in her ears. She was excited, aroused—too far gone to make a sound decision. But maybe that had always been her problem. Maybe she needed someone to make her let go.

  "What do you want me to do, Jack?"

  "Float on your back, and let me give you pleasure."

  Maddie didn't know what she'd expected him to say, but that was not it. And wasn't that what made being with Jack so exciting? He never said what one expected.

  She released him and lay on her back, until she was floating comfortably. His hand was under her, supporting her. He looked down at her, and she kissed him, feeling all her need for him well up in that single exchange of mouth on mouth.

  "Let me pleasure you," he said when they parted. "Let me have my way."

  She nodded her acquiescence, though she couldn't have refused him anything by then. She wanted him so much, needed him to keep touching her, kissing her.

  He kept his hand under her back to support her as he dove underneath the water, surfacing between her legs. Maddie jerked when she saw his head pop up between her knees. "What are you—"

  "Shh," he said, reaching one hand forward to stroke her inner thigh. She shivered and flailed her arms a bit, but he kept her afloat.

  "Open your legs for me," he whispered, his breath tickling the spot just above her knee. "I want to kiss you ... here." He touched her inner thigh a few inches above her knee. "And here." He touched her higher, and Maddie inhaled sharply. "And here." He touched her womanhood, and she jerked and moaned at the pleasant shock that went through her.

  "I thought you'd like that. Now open for me."

  God help her, she obeyed him. You're not Lady Madeleine, she told herself as he rained kisses on the inside of her leg all the way to her core. "You're Lady Blackthorne," she whispered as his tongue retraced the trail of kisses. And then his mouth was on that most sensitive part of her, and his fingers were spreading her gently, so that his tongue might taste more of her.

  Maddie clenched her hands to keep from crying out. Oh, Lord. She rather liked being Lady Blackthorne.

  She allowed herself to float freely as his tongue laved her, creating quick, sharp jolts of pleasure that made her jerk, followed by long, languorous strokes of bliss that buzzed through her body. He knew what he was doing, and the tension inside her grew with each touch. His tongue tapped and danced and swirled over her sensitive nub until she couldn't stop herself from crying out.

  "More!" she cried, too desperate to be ashamed of her gluttony. "Don't stop."

  It seemed every muscle in her body clenched as the pleasure rose. She rose with it, feeling it twirl through her, take her captive, and bind her with its power. The pleasure became so acute it was almost pain, and her whole body shook with it.

  And still she wanted more. "Harder!" she cried hoarsely.

  And when he obliged her, she convulsed and gave in, crying out.

  He caught her and pulled her close to him, holding her tightly as her mind spun. She caught her breath finally, then looked up at him and smiled sheepishly.

  "I'm sorry I yelled so loudly." She closed her eyes, embarrassed. "I don't know what came over me."

  "I hope it comes over you again," he said, kissing the tip of her nose. "In fact, I'd like to make that happen now."

  She was hugging her legs about him again, and he began to kiss her and stroke her body.

  "I want you, Maddie. Even more now than before."

  "I want you, too," she said between kisses. And, unbelievably enough, it was true. Her body was responding to his touch, becoming tense and expectant once again.

  He kissed her cheek, her nose, the column of her neck. "You are so beautiful."

  "I'm not."

  He met her gaze with those dark smoky eyes. "You are. I wanted you the first time I saw you. I can't believe you're my wife."

  Maddie felt her heart lurch, felt something very much like love pour into it, and then she quickly shook her head. These were words of seduction, not love. This was a man who wanted to charm her. She couldn't allow herself to believe his words. If she believed them, she would fall in love with him.

  And no matter what else happened in this marriage, she would not fall in love with a man who was so wrong for her. A man she knew would grow to hate her when she refused to allow him to control her.

  He cupped her cheeks and looked down at her again. "You're mine," he said, kissing her possessively.

  Her breath was stripped away. Lord, she believed he really did find her beautiful. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  She had assumed all along that he wanted Ashley, and yet, he'd never said as much. Other than a boastful comment to his brother, he'd shown no interest in Ashley whatsoever, hadn't even looked back when he'd grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the blacksmith's shop in Gretna.

  Maddie broke the kiss and looked into her husband's eyes. "You never wanted to marry Ashley, did you? You aren't sad at all that the wedding was mixed up."

  He blinked at her, looking confused. "Sad? Hell, I'm relieved. When I realized the priest was doing everything wrong, I couldn't believe my luck."

  "You couldn't—you realized and didn't stop him?"

  Jack bent so that his face was a hairbreadth from hers. "Why? When I knew it meant I would have you?"

  Maddie swallowed hard and tried not to melt at his words. Jack wanted her. Jack desired her.

  And she wanted him as well. She desired him. She had begun to care for him.

  She was in deep trouble.

  * * * * *

  Jack slid his hands around to cup Maddie's sweet bottom. Her skin was smooth and slick from the water, and her flesh intoxicatingly warm. He was so hard for her, he could barely think straight.

  She was looking at him with those blue eyes, her lids lowered invitingly. He pulled her tight against his erection, and she gasped in a breath and tilted her head back. Her long brown hair glistened wet in the sun, and the tops of her breasts emerged from the water. He kissed the soft skin of her neck, while his hands kept her body pressed against him.

  Without bei
ng told what to do, she moved provocatively against him, and he knew he had to be inside her soon or lose all sense of control.

  "Maddie," he growled in her ear. "Do you feel me?"

  "Yes," she moaned, and rubbed her hard nipples against his chest. Her legs closed tight around his waist as he repositioned her. His cock grazed that hot, wet place he'd been dreaming about.

  She opened her eyes then and looked at him. Desire clouded the usual startling blueness. "Stop teasing me," she said, voice low and husky.

  He grinned. "Demanding, aren't you, Lady Blackthorne?"

  He rubbed against her intimately, inserting just the tip of his cock inside her, letting her have a taste of what was to come. She shivered in his arms. "Please, Jack. Now."

  His hands tightened as he moved deeper within her. He controlled the pace, lowering her onto his shaft with tortuous slowness. The heat of her was amazing. She was so warm and so tight, it took conscious effort not to explode. He wanted to be fully inside her before he gave in to the pleasure.

  He eased himself in farther, and her legs tightened around him.

  "Am I hurting you?" he whispered against her neck.

  "A bit. It hurts, but it also feels ... oh, Jack."

  His fingers had found her engorged nub, and he caressed it lightly until she was squirming against him. Her nails bit into his shoulder as she pressed to get closer, closer. But he held her back, wanting to spare her as much pain as possible.

  He slid his finger over her again, and he felt her tense around his hard cock. "Jack," she cried, and this time when she bucked against him, he allowed it to happen. He plunged into her, burying his shaft deep inside. He heard a gruff shout mingled with her heaving cries and realized he had made the sound.

  He couldn't help it. She felt so good. Grasping her buttocks again, he embedded himself deeply. She moaned, and he had enough presence of mind left to ask, "Am I hurting you? Did I hurt you?"

  "Yes, but don't stop. It's a good hurt ... oh, Jack."