by Lilly Gayle
“Don’t go,” she said, her voice shy and quiet. “He is settled now, and I am decently covered.”
Pleasure settled over him as he turned. Abby kept her head bowed and did not meet his gaze. She had covered her son’s head and her breast with the swaddling blanket, leaving much to his imagination. And imagine, he did.
“It pains me to see you so troubled,” Abby said, seemingly oblivious to his fixation on her covered breasts. She continued to stare at the top of her son’s head. He continued to stare there as well. “I know it is not my place, but I think it would behoove you to hear everything your aunt has to say.”
He jerked, lifting his chin, but Abby kept her gaze lowered. He would do almost anything for her, but he would not do this. He would rather dip his rod in blood and swim naked in shark-infested waters than listen to one more word from his aunt’s lying mouth. He bit his lip. He was not angry with Abby. His aunt and her continued lies was the source of his rage.
Trying to hold his temper in check, he knelt at Abby’s feet and hesitantly raised his hand to her lap. When she did not cringe or attempt to brush it off, he gently squeezed her knee. “You are my wife, and though I will not bow to your advice whenever you give it, rest assured that you will always be free to speak your mind.”
The look she bestowed upon him in that moment was filled with more than just gratitude. Her eyes shone with the prospect of hope and so much more.
“I thank you for that,” she said softly. “It is more than I expected from marriage to a noble.”
In the blink of an eye, joy turned to disappointment. He had thought they had gotten beyond her mistrust, and yet, she was still comparing him to that bastard, Simon Weston. Grinding his back teeth, he snatched his hand from her knee and rose to his feet. “I am nothing like Lord Drury.”
The stricken look on her face made him regret those harsh words. Her hand trembled as she gently touched her son’s head. “No, milord, you are not. You manage to hold your fierce temper in check.” She raised her chin, glaring at him with such pain and hurt he was unable to hold her gaze. “You have yet to raise your fists to me, despite my forward behavior. Nor have you punched me so hard that I feared my insides would explode. But your temper frightens me just the same.”
Heart in his throat, he sank to his knees once more. Fearing her rejection more than he had ever feared anything in his life, he wrapped his arms around her and Will, holding them as tightly as he dared. When she seemed to melt beneath him, his soul rejoiced. “I would never raise a hand to you nor frighten you on purpose.”
With a sigh he could not interpret, she leaned toward him, the side of her face touching his forehead. The scent of lavender and woman assailed his nostrils, sending a surge of white-hot desire straight to his groin. His body was so focused on hers that his brain could barely interpret her words when she spoke.
“I do not fear your temper because I am afraid of you, Jack. I am afraid for you. I do not wish to see you become your father.”
Desire withered and died. His heart clenched. Raising his head, he notched up his chin and glared down at her upturned face. “How many times do I have to tell you that I would never, ever, send you or Will away? What must I do to prove my loyalty to you? Slit my wrists and swear a blood oath?”
Her eyes widened and her face flamed, but she did not look away. Settling Will more firmly in the crook of her left arm, she raised her right hand and cupped the side of his face. “Oh Jack. I no longer fear you will send me away. I am afraid you will never be at peace if you do not let go of your rage.” She smiled, but a deep sadness lingered in her gaze. “We are much alike, you and I.”
He smiled, his heart filling with some emotion he could not quite grasp. He leaned closer, pressing his face into her palm. “Have I not said so myself?”
“You have. And you were right in more ways than you know. We have both been hurt by people we believed cared for us, and we have both allowed pain to dictate our actions. I was so furious over what Simon had done that I was hesitant to give you a chance, even after you so gallantly came to my rescue.”
“Ah, so you are now willing to give an old pirate a chance, are you?” Did she know how beautiful she was? Did she yet realize she had been the one to rescue him?
She threw back her head and laughed, exposing the long, luscious column of her throat. “You are neither old nor are you a pirate as you were so quick to point out.” The laughter died, yet her gaze lingered on his face. “But I did give you a chance, and you did not let me down. All I ask is that you give your aunt a chance as well. Allow her to explain. Things may not be as they seem, but you will never know if you do not listen.”
Hardening his heart, he rose stiffly to his feet. “She had her chance.”
“Did she?”
He gave her the same stern look that stopped his crew from arguing when he issued an order. “I have done nothing in response to my father’s actions that I regret.”
She lowered her hand but held his gaze. “Haven’t you?”
Apparently, she did not find him as intimidating as his crew did. “No. And before you ask, I do not regret marrying you either.”
She sighed and to his utter surprise, she switched her son to her other breast before his lecherous gaze. The brief flash of dark pink nipple sent heat rushing to his groin, but the sight of her nursing their son held him enthralled. He wanted her. Now. He wanted her to put down their son so he could drag her to his room and make love to her all night. But he was unsure if he could stand, much less walk. He was so hard he doubted he could even move.
His heart nearly stopped beating.
What if he was unable to make her forget the degradation and pain Drury had inflicted?
What if he could not give her the pleasure she deserved?
What if she denied him?
Fear rose into his throat. Will I be able to walk away with my dignity intact if she does?
Dignity be damned! If she denied him, he would have no choice but to walk away.
“Well?” she asked, finally gaining his attention. He apparently did not hear whatever it was she had asked.
He raised his chin, meeting her gaze.
“Yes. Whatever you wish, whatever you desire. Yes.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jack’s words set Abby’s heart to pounding, but the look in his eye as he slowly rose to his feet sent a thrilling spark to her midsection. Her body surged, and her stomach clenched. Trying to ignore the slow burn spreading through her, she rose on shaking legs and carried Will to his cradle. When she straightened, Jack stood behind her. He leaned in, his front covering her back. Heat radiated through her clothes, sparking a fire low in her belly. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his arousal.
With his hot breath tickling her ear, he rasped, “I want you.”
Anticipation warred with fear. Blood roared in her ears, and her pulse beat against her throat. She wanted to turn and fall into his arms, but the memory of Lord Drury’s foul words and groping hands kept her rooted to the floor. Then Jack’s lips grazed the side of her neck, pebbling her skin and sending an electric shock down to her toes.
“Say the word and I will make you mine in every sense of the word.” His huskily spoken words sent a shocking thrill through her veins, hardening her nipples and making her weak in the knees. She wanted to turn. She wanted to say yes, and still, she could not move.
“Please,” came Jack’s harsh whisper as his lips brushed the side of her face.
She nearly melted. He did not need to beg. He need not even ask. He was her husband, and he could take what he wanted. Lord Drury had certainly not asked her permission. Yet Jack not only asked, he pleaded. And she could no longer deny him. Whether she felt obligated or thoroughly seduced, however, she could not say. She could barely think.
Heart pounding in her throat, she turned, and his arms banded more tightly around her. As his hands skated up her back, he pulled her closer, nestling her agains
t that male part of him that would cause so much pain. And yet, he made no move to shove his hands up her skirts. Instead, he stood frozen for a brief moment, giving her a chance to remember the pain and fear Drury had inflicted. Nausea roiled in her stomach. Her flesh crawled. She was poised on the brink of denial until Jack’s dark eyes burned down into hers, begging. Pleading. Promising.
She met his gaze as boldly as she could, making no promises but denying him nothing.
“Come to bed with me, Abby,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “Let me love you the way you were meant to be loved.” His lips touched hers. Once. Twice. As light as a butterfly kiss, making her heart flutter. “Let me make you forget. Let me be the first and last man to ever touch you with real desire.”
He lowered his head, capturing her reply in his mouth. His feather-light touch was pleading and then demanding as he sipped and tasted, delving his tongue into her mouth and taking her to dizzying heights of sensual awareness she had never known. His hands were everywhere at once, pulling her closer, sliding down her back, and cupping her bottom in an erotic rhythm that heated her blood.
Gasping for breath, she turned her head, trying to regain her wits, but they scattered like leaves in the wind when Jack scooped her into his arms with a low-pitched growl. “If you do not stop me now, I will carry you to my bed and make love to you until sunrise.”
Oh. My. Was that even possible? She glanced toward the nursery window. Weak beams of dying sunlight danced across the floor as the sun set, painting the horizon in shades of pink and gold. It could not be much later than eight. Could a man make love to a woman for so long a time? She did not know. Nor was she sure she was brave enough to find out firsthand. Once again, Jack was holding her in his strong arms, awaiting her answer and this time, unlike on her wedding day, it was not in her heart to deny him. Still, the words failed her, and so she simply nodded.
Pleasure lit Jack’s face as he strode across the room and into the hall. Despite his usual grace, he fumbled with the knob as he opened the door to the master suite. Once inside, his grip tightened. So did the hold he had on her heart. Then he kicked the door shut with his booted foot, and her heart nearly stopped beating.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice low and raspy, sending goose flesh dancing across her skin as he lowered her feet to the floor. Her body slid over every delicious inch of him, making her acutely aware of how hard and stiff he was.
He offered a lopsided smile and held up trembling hands. “I want you so badly, I am shaking. But I will not force you, Abby. If you are not ready, if this is not what you want, I will walk away right now and not bother you again until it is what we both want.”
Heart in her throat, she pulled away. Standing before him, she began to unfasten her bodice. Despite her bold determination to be the woman he deserved, her fingers shook. When she reached the last button, she dared to glance up and into his eyes.
He seemed frozen for a moment, giving doubt and fear a stronghold on her heart. Then Jack reached out with gentle fingers. His hot gaze roved over her body, sending a thrill racing down her spine as he stripped her down to her chemise and drawers. Then, he shrugged out of his waistcoat, cravat, and shirt, flinging them onto the bundle of clothes piling up at her feet.
The sight of his naked chest set her body on fire. Her face flamed, and her fingers itched to touch the hard, sculpted contours of his firm muscles. He stood there, breathing heavily, watching her watch him. Then, he reached up to help her finish stripping out of her clothes before dropping his pants and linens.
“Oh. My.” She glanced down at the hard, jutting appendage between his legs, and a knot of fear formed in her belly. She had not seen Lord Drury naked, but she could not imagine that part of him being as large as Jack’s.
On the verge of losing her nerve, she raised her trembling chin to meet Jack’s gaze, but the words never came. Instead of forcing that huge part of him inside her, he pulled her into his arms and held her shivering naked body against his until her quaking ceased. Then he lifted her into his strong arms, kissing her throat and breasts as he laid her across the bed.
The hot press of his body on hers seemed to melt her fear as his lips skated up from her breasts to lock onto her mouth. The kiss was hard and demanding, stirring desires deep inside her she never knew existed. Her body pulsed, and her womanhood thrummed as an ache built between her legs that both thrilled and terrified her. Then he lowered his lips to her throat, kissing her neck and trailing lower until he took one turgid nipple into his mouth. The sensation she felt when he suckled her was nothing like what she felt when Will nursed at her breast. Jack’s mouth sent a jolt to her very core, and she very nearly bucked him off the bed.
“You were made for loving, Abby,” he whispered as he moved against her, slowly at first, his tongue drawing circles around first one nipple and then the other.
She moaned, pushing her breast more firmly into his mouth. He then laved her chest down to her navel and back up to her throat, moving slowly at first and then faster and faster, rubbing his hard body against her softer one. His fingers slid inside her. Her body arched, flames licking her core at the intimate invasion. His tongue swept into her mouth. His fingers delved deeper, touching her in such a way that she felt every muscle in her body coil tighter and tighter. Sensations spiraling out of control, she thrashed beneath him until he finally raised his head, arched his back, and plunged deep inside her.
She gasped, unable to breathe or move as her body closed around his. He pushed deeper, rubbing all his hard muscled planes and crisp hair—textures she could feel but not see—against her. She wanted him in her and on her, but it was too much all at once. The fear she expected had faded the moment he kissed her, but there were other feelings, feelings she could neither grasp nor explain as her body reacted in the most unusual manner.
“Wait!” she panted, her heart beating so hard she could barely speak.
Jack froze. “Am I hurting you?”
He started to pull out, but she clasped the globes of his firm bottom and held him fast against her. He groaned low and deep in his throat as she held him in place, marveling at the way his body fit so nicely inside hers. “No. Just wait.”
Her mind whirled with sensations she wanted to savor, but every small movement of his big body drove her closer and closer to the unknown. A chuckle rumbled through his deep chest, and she felt it down to her toes.
“Hmm.” She wiggled beneath him, luxuriating in the way her body responded to his. It was so very different from the way it had reacted to Drury’s crass coupling. Jack surely knew what he was doing.
“This is how it should feel, Abby.” He arched over her, moving his hips in a slow circle that set her lower half to throbbing with sensations that were addictive and delicious.
She thrashed beneath him, lifting her hips higher, driving his manhood deeper into her as he pumped his hips, pounding her with a ferocity that sent her soaring. Desperate and not knowing exactly what she craved, her hands roamed over his hard back and shoulders, wanting more. Needing more. She wanted to grasp his beautiful hair and pull his head down to meet her mouth, but his back was arched, his head thrown back as if he were a lion about to roar.
His face contorted, and a groan escaped as he lowered his head to claim her mouth in a brutal kiss that drove her to the brink of something wonderful that she feared and craved at the same time.
“Jack. Please!” she cried into his mouth, arching against him, not knowing how to reach that glorious destination hovering just beyond her reach.
His hot breath touched her bare flesh as he nuzzled her neck, licking and sucking, increasing the sense of urgency building deep within her. She arched upward again with an anguished, pleading cry. His hands skated over her breasts and down her sides to slide beneath her bottom and anchor her more firmly against his hips as he drove into her even deeper.
“Hold on, Abby,” he said, his voice hoarse and strained.
Her hands fisted
in his hair, kissing him deeply, sweeping her tongue into his mouth, wanting to feel joined to him at both ends. He nearly stole her breath. Then suddenly, he arched his back once more, jerking his head out of her grasp, and pushing into her so deeply she feared he would come out the other side. His hand reached between their bodies, his thumb circling the hottest aching part of her until she felt ready to explode. She gasped. He growled and plunged hard and deep one last time as they reached the summit and tumbled over the edge together.
****
Dust motes danced on dappled rays of sunlight shining through an opening in the heavy drapes covering the east-facing window of the master suite. Branches swayed in the early morning breeze casting one corner of the bed in alternating sunlight and shadow. The flickering lights penetrated the fog of Jack’s sleep-numbed brain and satiated body. One eyelid cracked open, and his mouth quirked upward in a satisfied smile. Abby lay on her side, nestled beneath the covers, her body curved toward him, her blonde head pressed against his shoulder. Sprawled on his back, he opened his other eye and took note of the tent beneath the covers.
Despite being thoroughly satisfied by Abby last night, he wanted her. Again. And this wasn’t just a morning erection either. He wanted her both physically and mentally.
He rolled onto his side and stroked her bare shoulder. She sighed contentedly, bringing an ache to his chest and his groin. He smiled. He could think of no better way to wake a sleeping angel than by making her climax.
Brushing the hair from her face, he kissed her cheek, sliding his lips down the side of her neck. She moaned and stirred, rolling onto her back to give him greater access. His body jerked and his erection pulsed.
Heavy with desire, he groaned and lowered his head to her breast, drawing one, taut nipple into his mouth, suckling until milk beaded on the tip. Then he abandoned her breasts and trailed kisses down to her navel. His tongue dipped inside, and she cried out. But when he trailed kisses even lower, she squirmed beneath him.