by Shara Lanel
She gasped, moving her hips in time with his hands. Juices poured from her body, coating his hand and the sheets. “Please, Drake.”
Settling above her, he spread her thighs wide with his. The sight of her beneath him, her eyes glazed with passion, her skin flushed with the same need that gripped him, tugged at a place deep within him. Whoever told this woman she didn’t have a passionate side was out of his mind. He’d never met a more passionate woman, or a more beautiful one.
With deliberate slowness, he teased her swollen pussy lips with the head of his shaft. He wanted to bury himself to the hilt, but she was small and tight. He would need to go slow, ease himself into her gently. Her hips jerked, taking part of him into her. He closed his eyes, clenching his teeth against the desire to fuck her hard.
“Bloody hell, Jordan. Be still.”
“I don’t want to be still, Drake. I want you to fuck me.”
With a growl, he plunged forward and invaded her tight channel. She gasped, her wide eyes staring into his. Her startled expression was like a shot of cold water, and he stilled, waiting for her to become accustomed to his size.
Slowly, he began to move, inching his way further into her. She was heaven. A tight, wet heaven that he never wanted to leave. He watched her face, looking for any sign of discomfort, but what he saw mirrored his own feelings. Surprise, desire, pleasure.
He lowered his head and captured her lips. Her moans were lost in his kiss as he buried himself deep, hitting her womb. He pulled almost out, then pushed back in, over and over, keeping the rhythm slow and steady, varying the depth of his thrusts.
He loved how she whimpered on the shallow strokes and lifted her hips higher, trying to take him deeper. When he finally gave her what she wanted and slid balls deep, she screamed in ecstasy, setting his blood on fire.
Just when she was about to come, he pulled almost out and stopped. “Oh, God, Drake. No. Don’t stop.”
“Shhh,” he soothed. “We have all night, Jordan.”
With excruciating slowness, he began to move again, teasing her with shallow thrusts.
“Drake,” she snarled.
He smiled against her lips. “You feel so good. I love how your tight walls squeeze me when you get close. I love how your juices coat my cock.” Sliding deeper, he hissed through his teeth at the feel of her around him. “Do you want to come, Jordan?”
“Yes. Please, Drake.”
Her head moved from side to side and her body undulated beneath his, silently begging for release. He pushed as deep as he could go and ground his hips against her clit. Her eyes opened wide, and she screamed as her release gripped her.
“That’s it. Let me feel you come around my cock.”
His thrusts increased in rhythm, becoming harder, deeper. She met every demand of his body and made a few of her own. Her breasts bounced with the force of his movements and her hands fisted in the blankets by her head. One orgasm became two as she again screamed his name.
Drake shuddered as his own release hit him with the force of a ton of bricks. With a loud growl, he penetrated deep and spilled his seed within her womb. Startled, he stared down at the woman who had just single handedly shattered him into a million pieces. Never in his life had he experienced an orgasm like that one.
“God, I wish you were real,” Jordan sighed.
He smiled and kissed her cheek. “And what would you do if I was?”
“Have sex with you every minute of the day.”
Drake chuckled. “Shhh, sleep, my beautiful lady.”
* * * *
Drake frowned down at his teacup and waved his hand through the steam floating up from the warm liquid. He couldn’t taste the stuff, so he didn’t have a clue why he even bothered to drink it, but the motion of preparing it never failed to relax him.
“Oh,” Kimberly gasped from the open kitchen door. “Forgive me, my lord. I didn’t know you were in here.”
“It’s all right, Kimberly. Please come in.”
She nodded and made her way toward the counter, but stopped halfway, her hands twisting in front of her. You’d think after four hundred years, she wouldn’t be so nervous around him. “Is something wrong, Kimberly?”
“Do you think she’ll come back?”
Drake sighed, knowing exactly which “she” Kimberly was referring to. It was Celeste. The woman who’d initiated the curse. He’d been close once before to lifting it, until Celeste appeared and ruined everything.
“Probably.”
“Why does she do this?” Kimberly slapped her thighs in exasperation. “As long as you’re trapped, she’s trapped. Doesn’t she want to be free?”
“Apparently, she wants to see me suffer more than she wants her freedom,” Drake replied dryly while he stirred his tea with a spoon. “We’ll keep our eyes open for anything that seems strange. Until then we continue on and hope for the best.”
“Does Jordan still think you’re a dream?”
Drake nodded, his eyes glued to the spinning brown liquid.
“Rene took down the painting of you and hid it in the tower room. I locked the room and, when she inquired, told her the key was lost some time ago.”
He again nodded, his mind still on what had happened earlier and the surprising intensity of it.
“Are you nervous about all this, my lord?” Kimberly sat down in the chair across from him. She folded her hands on front of her and regarded him in concern.
“Am I that transparent?” he asked with a grin.
“To me, yes. But then I have several hundred years over anyone else.”
Drake smiled and nodded his head in agreement. Ever since Jordan arrived, he’d been thinking about Meredith. She had been so young. “I was falling in love with Meredith when Celeste appeared. She was such a gentle young woman. She didn’t deserve what happened.”
“I know.”
“I’m almost afraid to fall in love. I would hate to see anything happen to Charles’s granddaughter.”
“Maybe it won’t. It’s been almost two hundred years.”
“You know as well as I do, Celeste will never allow a woman to fall in love with me. She’ll kill her first, just as she did Meredith.”
Chapter Five
The morning sun beamed through the bedroom window and warmed Jordan’s bare legs. She stretched, arching her back and reaching her hands over her head. She felt amazingly relaxed. And amazingly sore. A frown crossed her features and she looked down at herself.
She still lay crossways on the bed, completely naked, the sheets a tumbled mess around her. How the hell did I end up in here? Glancing around the room, she noticed the towel lying on the floor by the window, exactly where her dream lover had dropped it. Her heart began to race wildly as she sat up straighter.
Surely not.
Maybe she’d begun to sleepwalk and had dropped the towel herself. She used to do it as a child, perhaps the death of her grandfather and the change in location had triggered it to recur again. She refused to accept the fact there was someone else in this house who only appeared at night to give her the best sex she’d ever had.
The knock at the door made her jump. “Miss Jordan. Are you awake?”
Jordan quickly grabbed her robe. “Come on in. It’s open.”
The door opened and Kimberly smiled at her. “I have cinnamon buns and coffee downstairs.”
Jordan tightened the belt on her blue satin robe and gave Kimberly a small smile. “That sounds wonderful.”
“Are you okay, Miss Jordan? You look white as a sheet.”
“Yeah. I just had a long night.” She glanced at the bed and frowned. “I don’t think I slept much.”
“The house keeping you awake again?”
Jordan caught the impish grin on Kimberly face and instantly became suspicious. “Are you sure there’s not something strange about this house that you’re not telling me?”
“Like what, Miss Jordan?”
“I don’t know. Like the house is possessed with some
one by the name of Drake.” She opened the closet door and pulled out her jeans and sweater. Although spring, the weather was still a little chilly, especially in the mornings. Moving to the bathroom, she changed in privacy, but left the door open so she could continue to talk with Kimberly.
“The original owner’s name was Drake. Perhaps your subconscious remembered the name from the other day and is making you dream about him.”
Jordan stepped out of the bathroom and stared at Kimberly in shock. “How did you know I was having dreams?”
For a second, Kimberly looked as though she was about to bolt from the room. “I believe you … um … told me, Miss Jordan,” she stammered.
Shaking her head, Jordan adjusted the sweater and moved back into the bedroom. Another knock at the door interrupted what she was about to say. “I’m sorry to interrupt, madam, but there’s a Nina Bradshaw on the phone for you.”
“Nina?” Jordan smiled, excited to finally hear from her friend. She quickly grabbed the phone from Rene, mumbling a quick thank you.
“Nina? Oh, please tell me you’re on your way.”
Nina laughed. “Surely it’s not that bad.”
“It’s worse. The house is gorgeous, but it’s just so creepy.” Jordan shuddered and scowled at the now empty room. Rene and Kimberly had left, and she felt a little aggravated she hadn’t gotten an answer from Kimberly. Jordan was certain she hadn’t told her about the dream.
“Oh, I love creepy. I’m leaving first thing in the morning, which will probably put me there about the same time that I left.”
Jordan chuckled. “I’ll be there to pick you up. The weather here is gorgeous, so I’ll bring the convertible.”
“Perfect. Nothing like seeing the English countryside from the passenger seat of an English convertible. Now if we only had Fabio.”
“Fabio is Italian,” Jordan said with a grin.
“Italian, English, they both have sexy accents.”
“You have a point. E-mail me your arrival time and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Ciao, bella,” Nina replied in her best Italian accent, making Jordan smile. Nina would definitely make the house seem a little less creepy.
* * * *
Jordan stepped into the fragrant kitchen and sat at the small table settled within the bay window overlooking the garden. It was turning out to be a beautiful day. Inhaling the scent of cinnamon, she smiled at Kimberly. “They smell wonderful.”
Kimberly smiled in return and set a plate before her with a cinnamon roll dripping with icing and a cup of steaming coffee. “Sit with me, Kimberly.”
“I really should finish cleaning, Miss Jordan.”
Jordan shook her head. “Not until we finish talking about this dream thing.”
Kimberly slowly sank into the opposite chair, her fingers gripping a napkin tightly. “Are you having dreams, Miss Jordan?”
“You mentioned my having dreams earlier. And yes, I am, but I never told you about them.”
“Your grandfather had dreams when he first came here, too. I just assumed you were, as well. You seemed so nervous about the house, I just guessed.”
Jordan swallowed her bite of the roll and took a sip of coffee. “What kind of dreams did my grandfather have?”
“He dreamed of Drake as well, but I’m not sure of the details. He never really discussed them.”
Kimberly appeared to be awfully fidgety, and Jordan wondered if she was telling her the truth. As far as she knew, Kimberly had no reason to lie, but there was something very strange about this house. Maybe when Nina got here the two of them could get to the bottom of it.
“Do you know where the keys to the cars are? I want to pick up Nina at the airport tomorrow.”
Kimberly smiled. “Will she be staying with us for a while?”
“Yes. You like having guests, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes.” Kimberly nodded, an excited gleam in her eye. “It gives me something to do.”
“I’m sure Nina will give you plenty to do,” Jordan implied with a cheeky grin.
“Is there anything you would like to have for dinner tomorrow night, to celebrate your friend’s arrival?”
“Actually, I was thinking of stopping off somewhere in London. It’s Nina’s first time here and we’ll have all day, so I thought I would swing by some of the big sights before we headed back. It’ll probably be late when we get home.”
Kimberly nodded and stood. “Then we’ll do it the next night. In the meantime, I’ll retrieve the car keys from Rene. Did you have a particular car in mind?”
“The roadster?” Jordan replied with a grin.
Kimberly returned her smile. “That is a sporty little thing. It was your grandfather’s favorite, too.”
Jordan watched Kimberly leave the room with a thoughtful expression. Had there been something going on between Kimberly and her grandfather? And if there had been, why didn’t he tell her about it?
With a sigh, she realized there had been much more to her grandfather than she ever knew.
“Well, Jordan,” she said aloud to herself, as she stood and took her plate to the sink. “It’s time to explore a little.”
And just maybe she could find a picture somewhere of this Drake Montgomery.
* * * *
Drake leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He’d enjoyed watching Jordan make her way through the house. Now she was in the gallery on the second level. He was relieved he’d had Rene remove the portrait of him from the wall. He wasn’t ready to reveal he wasn’t a dream just yet.
Thinking back to last night and something she’d said made him wonder what had happened to her to make her think she couldn’t feel passion or desire. He’d never met a more passionate woman. She was incredible! Just thinking about sex with her made his cock twitch with renewed vigor. He was dying to touch her, but if he did so now, while she was awake, it would probably scare the hell out of her.
“My lord?” Kimberly’s soft voice startled him from his thoughts. He smirked in her direction.
“It’s not necessary to whisper, Kimberly. In our invisible state, she can’t hear us.”
“I know. But even after all this time, it still feels strange to speak aloud with her just a few feet away.”
“Was there something you wanted?” His gaze still lingered on Jordan. On the soft sway of her hips in the tight-fitting jeans as she slowly strolled around the room, the gentle swell of her breasts beneath the snug sweater. He could still taste her, feel her nipples harden under his palms.
“Her friend Nina is arriving tomorrow.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“Will you reveal yourself to her tonight?”
“No. I’ll keep letting her think it’s a dream for now.”
“This is starting to concern her. She thinks somehow it’s the house. What if you scare her off?”
“I won’t.” Or at least he hoped he wouldn’t.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kimberly nod and leave the room. Jordan lingered before a portrait of Lord Haverly, the third owner of Blackthorn. Did she find him handsome? Most women did. The thought of her desiring another bothered him and his brow drew together in a frown.
Why the hell am I jealous of a dead man?
Walking up behind her, he gently ran his hand through her soft hair. She gasped and reached up to touch her head, before turning. Her chest rose and fell with her labored breathing as her startled eyes scanned the room. She’d felt him.
He wanted so badly to kiss her, touch her, and bury himself inside her. Would she run screaming if he made love to her here? Of course she would. What woman wouldn’t?
With one last glance around the room, she fled, mumbling something about ghosts. Drake grinned.
“Until tonight, my lady Jordan,” he whispered.
* * * *
Jordan tossed and turned in her bed, unable to relax. Feeling that hand in her hair earlier in the gallery had affected her more than she wanted to admit. It
had startled her, but what upset her more was the presence she felt so close to her. The heat of a male body was just beyond her grasp, but there was no one there.
It’s nothing, she tried to tell herself.
This old house was making her imagination run away with her. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed, feeling the beginnings of a deep sleep tugging at her body.
The wind howled and threw the French doors open, causing them to bang against the wall. She squealed, sitting up in bed. Staring at the open doors, she watched the wind whipping the curtains about madly. Placing a hand over her chest, she settled her rapidly beating heart.
It’s just the wind.
Climbing out of bed, she grabbed her robe and ran to the doors, shutting them, this time making sure the latch at the top was fastened. Before she even turned around, she felt him. It was the same heat she’d felt earlier in the gallery. The same feeling of lust and desire.
She quickly spun around and faced Drake. His blue eyes reflected the flickering candlelight. When had the candles been lit?
I’m dreaming again.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“I’m Drake, my lady.” He bowed at the waist, the grin on his face making him look years younger and very mischievous.
She stood studying him, her hands clasping the door handle behind her back. It was the only way she could keep from touching him, from pulling him to her bed and fucking him till she couldn’t walk.
“I know that’s your name. But who are you? Are you a ghost sent here to invade my dreams and drive me away?”
“Is that what you think? That I’m trying to drive you away?”
Slowly he sauntered toward her, his sapphire eyes watching her intently. The passion she could see mirrored in their depths made her breath quicken and the place between her legs throb in anticipation.
“If you’re not trying to get rid of me, what are you doing? Trying to make me crazy?”
“Crazy with desire, maybe. You’re a very passionate woman, Jordan. A woman any man would give his soul to make love to.”
His fingers combed through her hair and her grip tightened around the doorknob. “I’ve never been called passionate. He always said I was cold.”