Drawing her back against his chest, Lucian kissed the top of her head. “Are you well?”
She frowned at the worry in his voice. “Of course.” She turned, her arms wrapping around his middle and tipped her head back to glance into his eyes. “I am.”
His jaw tightened. “I never should have allowed you to come.” He drew in a deep breath. “I fear I have placed you in too much danger.”
Emma swallowed back a groan. Not this argument again. She knew as she signed her name, binding herself to Lucian till death, this would arise again. His opposition to her treasure hunting. She squeezed him tight. “You have not placed me in danger, Lucian.”
He started to speak, but she rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. With a long moan, he pulled her even closer and deepened the kiss. Feeling him harden against her belly had Emma wet and tingly. Her hands worked the buttons of his waistcoat and slid it off his shoulders with his coat. She had to feel his bare skin against hers.
Lucian’s fingers fumbled with the tiny buttons of her dress, then parted the material to let it pool around her feet. They moved quick to disrobe each other, panting once the task was done.
Emma stepped back to admire Lucian’s sculptured form. His arms bulged and his flat stomach rippled with muscles all the way down. Her eyes dipped to the huge manhood jutting from the black curls between his thighs and she licked her lips, anticipating what was to come. Pulling her eyes back to his, she asked, “How are you in such excellent shape?”
His lips quirked up. “Regular pugilist practice.”
That explained how he could take someone down with one swing. She stepped to him, her fingers itching to touch him. Lifting her hand, she traced the hard slab of muscle above his nipple with her fingertip and watched her husband close his eyes. His breathing increased and he clenched his jaw. She paused, worried she was doing something wrong. “Does this hurt?”
When Lucian opened his eyes, some intense emotion had them aglow. “Quite the opposite,” he gritted out.
Emma parted her lips, delighted she could bring him such pleasure. Using both hands, she explored his marble-hard chest, then moved lower, gliding down the muscled ripples of his stomach. She had to touch him. Lucian went still and watched her hand reach for him. She knew he held his breath, waiting. And when her fingers grazed his hot stone staff, he blew out with a hiss, stirring her hair.
Her fingers went around him but could not close. Licking her lips, she moved from the base of his black curls, up to where a pearly bead of moisture seeped from the tip. After a few strokes, his hand wrapped around her wrist to halt her movements. “Emma,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, “I am about to spill.”
Her center burned to have him fill her, but she was curious. Cocking her head to the side, she said, “I would like to watch it spill.”
Lucian’s eyes widened a fraction, then he slid his hand from her wrist.
Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, she moved her hand. Slick from the moisture seeping out, she stroked him, hearing his breathing increase. She kept her eyes on the engorged tip as she slid up and down his length. Lucian’s hips moved to the rhythm she set, then increased the pace. After about a minute, he gave a loud groan and punched forward, a wad of creamy seed shooting out of him, landing on her belly. Holding still, she let him move several more times to get out the last few drops.
When Lucian’s head came down and he looked at her, Emma’s mouth went dry. He stared hard at her a moment, then his lips twisted into a wicked smile. “Your turn, minx.”
Her body jerked as hot anticipation surged within her. A tingling warmth spread from her breasts, to pool between her legs, making her body tremble. She watched Lucian lean down, pick up his cravat, and wipe the seed from her skin. Swallowing hard, she held still, wondering what he meant to do.
Tossing the cravat aside, his eyes bored into hers, his meaning clear. He would see her compensated for what she had done, and more. Stalking to her, Lucian scooped her up into his arms and took her to the bed. He settled her down then straightened, his heated gaze devouring every inch of her naked body.
Emma tried to hold still, her need making her shake. She gripped the covers to keep from rising up and pulling Lucian down on her. He moved, his manhood already rising once again to pleasure her. But instead of covering her with his body, he settled at her feet, sitting back on his legs.
Before she could ask what he meant to do, his hands drew her legs up, one at a time, to rest on his shoulders. Shocked into silence, Emma could only watch his dark head lower as his hands slid beneath each buttock. Squeezing her, she moaned, then her breath caught when his thumbs parted her dewy lips. She waited several agonizing heartbeats for his mouth to capture her.
The first feel of his tongue flicking against her sensitive nub, she bucked hard. Already, she felt the tightness building in her center. Panting, she tried to hold off, wanting to savor each precious moment as long as she could.
His tongue licked her again, then lowered to draw slow, lazy circles around her drenched opening. Grasping the bedding, else she fly to the moon, Emma moved her head from side to side. Trying to hold back, trying to keep from falling apart.
Lucian’s wicked tongue moved up to her nub then down to her hole where he inserted himself as far as he could go. She panted, her womb begging to tremor, and gritted her teeth. Then he sucked on her lips, drawing her into his mouth, and she let out a gasp. The tremors intensified. She hovered on the brink. And when he licked on her nub then sucked on it hard, she came undone. The world spun, then shattered. She bucked hard and shuddered, squeezing his head with her legs as he drew each drop of her wetness into his mouth.
Only when she settled back, spent, did Lucian lean away.
He moved to her side and drew her to his sweaty body. Emma felt him jut against her bottom and sighed, her body already reawakening. He drew small circles on her hip with the tip of his middle finger, driving her to distraction. She wanted that finger elsewhere, her center already drenched from the image.
What she wanted… Could she? With an inward smile, she turned in the circle of his arms. A question sprang to Lucian’s gaze. Then she rose up and pressed him to the bed with her hands on his shoulders.
“Emma,” he groaned when she straddled him, realizing her intent. His head sank back and he let out a hiss when she led the tip of him to her entrance.
She wanted to hover there for a moment, to torment him a bit, but her own need grew too great. Sinking down, she let him fill her as far as her body would allow. And if she didn’t move, she would die, so Emma drew up, then slid back down.
Lucian allowed her to take charge, holding still, gritting his teeth. Emma found the control exhilarating. Her body soared to the heavens, her womb already starting to tremble. But she wanted Lucian to lose control. She wanted him so out of his mind with need, she wanted to feel him come undone. As he had done her.
Leaning forward, she set her lips to his.
With a growl, Lucian’s hands settled on her hips. As his tongue drove into her mouth, his shaft drove into her core. He moved his hips with hers, faster and faster.
Emma craved this. Her body climbed to the heavens. Behind her close eyes, she saw the stars explode, one by one. But she wanted to watch Lucian and drew back to see him.
He opened his eyes. His gaze bored into hers. “I love you, Emma.” Reaching the peak, squeezing around him, she shattered while he gave one last thrust and spilled deep inside her.
Unable to look away, she remained still, letting his pulsating shaft release every drop of warm seed. Then she lifted her hands to his cheeks, pressed a small kiss to his lips, and spoke. “I love you, too.”
They remained still for several moments, staring into each other’s eyes, letting the warmth of their spoken love surround them. Until Emma’s stomach gave a rumble. With a laugh, Lucian settled her beneath the covers and walked to his clothes piled on the floor. “I will have a tray delivered.”
Giving a
contented sigh, Emma watched her husband slip into his breeches. His muscles flexed, and she devoured the sight of him.
With a chuckle, he shook his head. “If you keep looking at me that way, minx, I am afraid it will be a very long time before the next meal.”
Her lips twitched. “I am hungry, all right, but not for food.”
Reaching for his shirt, he froze, then straightened. Eyes ablaze with renewed passion, one corner of his mouth lifted. “You—”
The balcony doors crashed open. Lucian spun around but a black gloved hand holding a pistol kept him from charging forward.
Emma gasped, remembering another time, another place, when an intruder rushed into her home and killed her mother. “No,” she whispered.
Chapter 26
Lucian froze at the sight of the barrel hole. Fear seized every muscle in his body. His only hope was the thug had but one pistol. Perhaps, then Emma could get away. Or someone would hear the shot and come.
He lifted his gaze to identify the man, but the intruder stayed within the shadows. “What do you want?” Lucian asked, his throat tight.
The man jerked the pistol. “Retrieve the map and coordinates,” he said, his voice muted as though he wore a mask. Then he swung the barrel toward Emma. “If you raise the alarm, I shoot her in the head.”
Lucian’s hands came up. “I will do as you ask.”
The pistol swung back to Lucian’s chest. “Come alone or she dies.” His gloved fingers flexed on the weapon. “You have five minutes.”
Sucking in a breath, Lucian turned to the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. He couldn’t go downstairs bare chested and with no shoes, that would raise suspicions. His gaze caught Emma as he lifted his shirt. She stared with wide eyes, clutching the bedding to her chin.
“Four minutes,” the man said.
Sweat trickled down the side of Lucian’s face as he worked the buttons on his shirt. He left the waistcoat and shrugged into his coat while stepping into his shoes, mindful of the glass scattered about the floor. Glancing at Emma, he then turned to the intruder. “Do not harm one hair on her head.”
The pistol lifted to Lucian’s head. “Not if you hurry.”
Swiveling on his heel, heart pounding in heavy thuds, he rushed from the room. Racing down the hall, he turned and started down the steps but saw Jeremy about to come up. He groaned. The man was too perceptive. He had to think of something, quick.
“I didn’t expect to see you for a while, old man.”
Lucian shook his head. “I’m on a mission for Emma.” He forced himself to grin as he flew by Jeremy. “We will speak later.”
Jeremy’s right brow lifted, then he smiled. “Evie is the same,” he chuckled. “She likes cream cakes.” Then he turned serious. “We are still searching the grounds. Nothing yet.”
Lucian could feel every tick of the clock as he continued down the steps, trying not to raise suspicion. “I have every confidence you will find him,” he said over his shoulder. Marching toward the kitchen, he turned the corner, then glanced behind him to see if Jeremy followed. Lucian relaxed and changed direction, hurrying to the study.
His fingers shook as he reached inside his coat pocket and retrieved the key. The room was dark, but the open door provided enough light he could line up the key into the hole. With a twist, the soft click sounded, and he pulled open the desk drawer.
Knowing he had less than a minute, he shoved the map and coordinates behind his coat and sprang for the door. Hearing Sean’s voice at the back of the house, Lucian raced toward the stairs. He could not be detained again.
A maid’s eyes went wide as he dashed by her and took the steps two at a time. Chest heaving, legs pumping, he flew down the hall. Out of breath, he opened the door and stepped inside, praying he would not see Emma in a bloody pool on the bed. Please, God, do not let him find her like that.
Relieved when he found Emma still on the bed, alive, he swung around to the man.
“That was close. You had but three seconds to spare.” He jerked the pistol. “Bring me the map and coordinates.”
Taking a deep breath, Lucian slid the papers from his coat and stepped out to the balcony. The man moved back, deeper into the shadows, then stopped. “That is near enough. Place them at my feet.”
Lucian leaned down and did as instructed. As he began to rise, a sharp pain exploded in the back of his head. Stars swam in his vision, and something crashed in his ears. He dropped to his knees, but felt as though he were floating instead of falling. Emma. He tried to speak, but the world disappeared.
Pain pounded at the back of his skull as Lucian came to. He moved and winced, then everything came rushing back. His eyes flew open. “Emma,” he said, his mouth having trouble forming the single word. He tried to rise, but strong hands pressed him back to the bed.
“You must remain still,” Jeremy said.
The man’s blurry form came into focus, and his heart bucked hard in his chest. “Where is Emma?”
“I am here, Lucian,” she said, coming to Jeremy’s side. Smiling down at him, she pressed cool fingers to his cheek. “How do you feel?”
Oh, thank God. Lucian relaxed against the sheets and gulped in a deep breath. Pain pulsated a wicked tempo in his head and he gritted his teeth to try and alleviate some of the ache. “Like hell,” he answered. His gaze rose back to her. “Were you harmed?”
“No.” She stroked his cheek. “But you had me worried. You have been asleep two days.”
He licked his lips, feeling the dry, peeling skin.
Emma brought a teacup to him. “Drink slowly,” she said and tipped the cooled tea to his mouth.
He took several sips of the sweetened tea, frowning when he tasted something bitter. “What is in there?”
“White willow bark. It will lessen the pain.”
Nodding, he sipped most of the tea and sank back against the pillows. “What have you learned,” he asked, lifting his gaze to Jeremy.
“Very little, I am afraid. We have yet to find Murdoch.”
Lucian ran a hand down his face, feeling the stubble. He hated to say what he knew of the man who broke into their room, but he knew he had to tell them. “The man who hit me was not Murdoch.”
The grim set to Emma’s lips and the unchanged expression on Jeremy’s face stunned Lucian. “You already knew this.”
Emma nodded. “The man sounded nothing like Murdoch, nor was he large enough.”
“Then who…?” Lucian sucked in a breath. “Renfield?”
She lifted one shoulder, but he saw the fear in her eyes before she straightened.
He lifted up, then winced when pain tore through his head. Emma placed a hand on his shoulder. “Keep still.”
Lying back, Lucian closed his eyes a moment, drawing in deep breaths as the pain receded to a dull ache. “How could Renfield possibly know about the gold?” he asked when he could find his voice. At least the man hadn’t hurt Emma. He lifted his gaze to hers, wanting nothing more than to pull her to him and hold her.
She sat on the edge of the bed and looped a curl behind her ear. “We do not know.”
“Could the Principal Librarian have said something? He wrote the note telling you there were more boxes.”
“I cannot imagine Mr. Planta speaking openly about the gold and have everyone after it.” She rubbed her eyes. “No, he would have kept this a secret.”
“Then how did Renfield find out?” The question would haunt him until he knew the answer.
She blew out a breath and shook her head. “Perhaps he followed us and guessed what we were about.”
Lucian supposed that could have been the case. “He would have fashioned some sort of disguise to roam about undetected.” A frown pulled at the corners of his mouth. “And now he has the map and coordinates. Most likely, searching for the gold now, if he hasn’t located the boxes already. I wish we had a copy of those pages. We’d have some idea where Renfield was and catch the bastard.”
Seeing Emma and Jeremy
exchange a look had Lucian suspicious. “What is it?”
Jeremy unclasped the hands behind his back. “We’ve already thought of that. I crafted a new map and coordinates.”
“What? From memory?”
“Yes. I’ve always had the ability to read something and recite it exactly.”
Emma leaned forward and Lucian saw the excitement light her face. “It looks a perfect match, Lucian.”
He knew he scowled, but could not help it. “What if Renfield has retrieved the gold already. It’s been two days.”
Emma’s smile widened. “I think not. I never told him the sailors used the Roman mile. And unless he uses that precise measurement when applying the coordinates, he will not find the gold.”
Lucian had a bad feeling overcome him. Then it dawned on him why. His hand reached for Emma and he laced his fingers with hers. “When he doesn’t find the gold, he will be back.” He gave her a squeeze. “For you.”
She leaned forward, brushing her fingertips against his cheek. “I am guarded at all times. You mustn’t worry.”
Jeremy nodded. “I have hired more men. Renfield would be a fool to return.” He crossed his arms. “But if he does, we will be ready.”
That brought a small measure of relief. He did not want Emma in any danger, though, wishing she had not come. He blew out a breath. “I must get out of this bed.” He waved away Emma’s protest. “Truly, my head doesn’t ache at all,” he lied.
Jeremy stepped back. “I am due a status report from the men. We will talk later.”
When Jeremy left, Lucian drew back the covers and slid his legs over the side of the bed. The room tilted but straightened as he rose to his feet.
“You should stay in bed another day, Lucian.” Emma rushed to his side and wrapped her arm around his middle. “If you insist on standing, let me assist you.”
His petite wife was stronger than she looked. She held him steady while he swayed a moment. The pounding in his head synchronized with his heartbeats, but he could tell the medicinal tea helped lessen the pain. He pressed gentle fingers to the back of his head and felt the large bump. It could have been worse. He could have been shot.
Lord Hunter (Secrets & Scandals Book 6) Page 23