My True Love

by Cheryl Holt

  The alternatives were to convince him either to pay her way back to England or to find her the means to live on her own in America. However, after all the trouble he'd gone to in abducting her, she doubted he would agree to any idea she proposed. Actually she questioned whether they could even have a rational discussion regarding a resolution. Focusing on her plight would require conversation, and she enthusiastically intended never to speak with him again.

  The only other course of action she could determine was to linger in his home until she became a permanent houseguest. Perhaps she could simply while away the years in one of his upstairs rooms until she began to putter around and mutter to herself like some crazed old auntie!

  The vision of herself, aged, mad and alone, and still dangling after Lucas Pendleton, caused a hysterical swell of giggles to burst to the surface, and she lay there in the confines of her cabin, laughing so long and so hard that she began to suspect that insanity was already settling in.

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  She had to get out! The enclosed space was confining and stuffy, and she could hardly take a breath. It was hot too. With each passing day, as they sailed farther from her homeland, the air was getting warmer, until it lay heavy and moist on her skin. While resting on her cot without stirring or doing any chores, she'd broken out into a sweat, so she'd changed into the skimpiest of her nightwear, but perspiration continued to pool between her breasts and under her arms.

  Once upon a time, when she'd still loved Lucas, she remembered him saying that the way home was south from England, toward Africa, and then across the Atlantic Ocean on the temperate tradewinds. When she closed her eyes, she could imagine what it must be like on the deck at the moment. The atmosphere would be bracing and humid, the sky clear, the wind strong and stimulating and pushing the beautiful white sails as the ship raced along the crest of the waves.

  Outside was exactly where she needed to be, because the ship was rocking back and forth like a wild bucking horse. How was a person supposed to find serenity with this constant motion? She had to see the out-of-doors! She had to get out of the stifling room, or she just might become deranged.

  From the lack of bustle she was fairly certain it was the dead of night, although with the length of time she'd kept herself locked away, it was difficult to know. Surely all of her nemeses would be asleep, and the only people she might encounter were the handful of sailors who had the misfortune of manning the canvas in the dark.

  Hastily she shrugged off her nightgown and tugged on a dress, doing nothing to her hair or person, not even putting slippers on her feet. Then she nudged aside the trunk and opened the door, needing to be away.

  Observing no one, she tiptoed out. A few feet from where she stood, there was a ladder ascending through an open hatch. It hadn't been there on the first occasion when she'd been lured into the hold and become trapped. Obviously Lucas had closed it in order to make her escape more difficult, but she was glad

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  to see it now. She could pop up onto the deck, take a quick walk about, inhale the sultry air, and be sheltered in her cabin before anyone knew she'd been out of it.

  Pell-mell she climbed the ladder, frantically kicking at her skirt as she went. Without any petticoats it was too long, and the bottom kept getting tangled about her feet. Then, blessedly, she was at the top, and as she stepped out onto the rolling deck, raindrops splashed on her face. They were warm and fat and big, and they showered down on her hair and skin, drenching her from head to toe.

  Off in the distance, lightning flashed against the horizon in all directions; thunder rumbled past, appearing so close that she could feel it pressing down. The sky was black and gray, and through the occasional displays of light she could see rough, roiling clouds passing by. The world was entirely new and full of unleashed power, unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. She could smell salt and wind even though she'd never before realized that they held such enticing aromas. Her surroundings were invigorating and clean, and she couldn't pull enough air into her lungs.

  She walked to the rail and leaned against it, her legs easily balancing against the roll of the waves. The rain washed down, wetting her face and the backs of her hands, saturating the fabric of her dress until it clung to her form like a second skin. The stout breeze pushed it against her torso, outlining her breasts, her taut nipples, her flat stomach.

  Relishing the relief she felt after days of being stowed away, she raised her arms to the heavens, welcoming the freedom and joy of being part of the storm. It was raging and wild, and she absorbed its energy with a fervent, almost carnal animation, as though it had connected with her soul and she'd become one of the elements in the heaving, turbulent tempest.

  The ship dipped into a huge wave, sending water splashing up over the bow and dousing her anew. Lightning flared over her shoulder, and she glanced around. Off to her right stood Lucas, not a dozen feet away. As though rapidly drawn to the

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  deck as she had been, he wore only a pair of his tight-fitting trousers. They were soaked through and molded to his muscular thighs and calves. Involuntarily she shuddered as she remembered those strong limbs entangled with her own, and how forcefully and deftly he'd used them to maneuver her about his bed.

  His broad shoulders narrowed to his chest, which was bare, the mat of dark hair wet and plastered against his fevered skin. Not wanting to, she recalled the special musk hovering about him, how he'd tasted on her tongue. She could just imagine running her hands across all that brawn and bone, rubbing her nose in the thick pile of hair, flicking at his nipple while it pebbled and tightened with desire.

  Between his legs his male parts were fully outlined. He was aroused! His male member was engorged and straining to be free of its confines. The two sacs dangled, swollen and ready for the massage of her hand. In vivid detail she remembered when he'd shown her how to pleasure him with her mouth, how erotic it had been to fall to her knees in front of that mighty erection. When he was just entering the bedroom, she had liked to push his trousers off his hips and wantonly suck him far inside. He'd always hissed out his breath, his stomach muscles clenching at the rush of sensation provided by her lips and teeth.

  He'd tasted fiery and salty, his cock demanding and insatiable, and she'd reveled in the authority she held over him while indulging him in such a shocking manner.

  Perhaps it was the violence in the storm clouds or an intensity on the wind, but, dear Lord, how she wanted to do the same right at that moment. To fall to her knees and have the reckless rogue at her mercy once again. She longed to luxuriate in one of those savage rides of gratification in which they'd once so impulsively engaged.

  Though it was dark, she saw his eyes were glittering with lust, his gaze like a torrid caress against her lips, her nipples, the curve at the center of her thighs. Obviously unsettled by

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  his own incorrigible need for a vigorous coupling, he hastened toward her and held out a hand. She caught herself extending hers in his direction, so she turned and ran to the hatch as fast as her legs could carry her.

  "Penny!" he bellowed at her back, but it might have been a rumble of thunder.

  Racing, she hurried down the ladder to the safety of her cabin, where she lit the lamp with shaking hands. As the dim glow permeated to the corners, she grabbed for a towel and dried her face and hair, then stripped off her soaked dress, stepping out of it as it pooled about her ankles. Naked, she shivered, but not from the cold. As she briskly rubbed herself, her skin rippled with goose bumps, and her nipples pebbled to a painful ache.

  At her back, the door squeaked, and she realized too late that in her alacrity she'd forgotten to return one of the trunks to its position as a barrier. Lucas was outlined in the shadows, water dripping off his hair and trousers, his enormous bulk occupying the diminutive space to capacity. She was thoroughly trapped by his entering; there were no extra inches that would allow her to skirt around him in
order to flee. One footfall brought them toe to toe, and her nostrils flared at his smell, at the awareness she held of him as a virile, sensual man.

  She did nothing to cover herself, remaining motionless, her back straight, her shoulders squared and braced for battle, while he looked his fill. As had happened on the deck, she endured his assessment like a physical embrace, and her body yearned for him with a devastating ache. Without asking he laid his fingers to her breast, his thumb manipulating the nipple. Instantly moisture flowed between her legs as her traitorous body welcomed his wicked touch.

  "I've missed you," he said, his eyes burning fiercely as they meandered down her nude form.

  "I've not missed you," she fibbed, glaring disdainfully. "Not for a moment."

  "Liar," he said softly. "You're more beautiful than I re-

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  called," he declared, then he fell to his knees, his palms on her buttocks. He shifted so that the hair of her mound was mingled with those on his naked chest. His lips closed around her receptive nipple, and he sucked it far back into his mouth, playing sweet games with the sensitive nub.

  "No," she insisted, "I don't want this from you." But even as she spoke the words, her hand was at the back of his neck, imploring him to continue.

  He moved to her other breast, giving it the same attention, then he squeezed the two full-sized globes together, the nipples only inches apart, and began swinging back and forth until she could barely tell on which one he sucked. All the while he was pinching and squeezing the raised tips until, against her will, her hips began to writhe and squirm against his chest.

  Wrapping an arm across her backside, he urged her toward the cot. She encountered the slat of the frame, and he eased her down. Though in her mind she refused to obey his silent command, her body complied immediately. Her thighs spread the moment her back hit the uncomfortable ticking.

  His concentration shifted from her breasts as he kissed a path past her ribs, her navel, her abdomen, until he finally placed himself where she most craved his attention. He began kissing her cleft, his tongue working its delectable rhythm into her secret cavity, and she couldn't resist flexing against the pressure of his mouth.

  His arms gripped behind her knees, settling them over his shoulders as his hands rose to her breasts and began fondling her. She was open and splayed and completely at his mercy, and, without protest, she allowed him to drive her to a furiously intoxicating excitement. When his lips closed around the intimate protuberance that provided her with such rapture, she willingly jumped over the edge without pausing to contemplate the consequences.

  Then he was over her and on her—exactly where she needed him to be—and their mouths melded, their tongues plunging and straining to be together. The taste of her sex was on his

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  lips, an arousing erotic tang that made her desire him more than ever before.

  His fingers went to the fly of his trousers, and then the weight of his swollen phallus demanded entrance at her core. He reared back, hovering precariously, his hand at the crown, ready to guide himself inside ... when she reached between them and slipped her hand under his, encircling his hot, hard shaft with her palm.

  At her gesture, an acceptance of the inevitable, his eyes broadened in satisfaction, and she centered him and extended her hips to receive his eager thrust. She braced for a frenzied joining, but he didn't comply. Once he had penetrated, he halted his movements, taking a slow, deep breath. Steadied on one hand, he ran the other over her face, neck, and bosom, tracing the lines and ridges of her features as though he were a blind man who could suddenly see again.

  "Penny ..." He smiled down at her with such love and affection that a sob caught in her throat. "Penny," he repeated softly, "I've missed you so. I never thought I'd feel you like this again. Tell me that you've missed me too." He leaned down, gracing her with a sweet kiss. "Say it."

  "No," she responded as tears welled into her eyes. "I can't."

  "Yes, you can," he persuaded her. "Tell me how much you want this. How much you want me."

  "I won't," she said, shaking her head in dismay.

  "Say it, love," he coaxed, "say it just for me." Then he began a tender, gentle exploration of her inner depths.

  The ride was soothing and careful, a captivating combination of intense physical sensation and monumental emotional regard. With each press of his hips, she could detect her resolve slipping, her anger fading, and her common sense flying straight out the window. How did he manage to overwhelm her defenses so quickly and easily? All he had to do was gaze at her a certain way, give her an assured look, and her good judgment vanished as though she'd never had any in the first place.

  If he kept at it much longer, she'd be completely enmeshed

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  in his life once more, as though she'd never succeeded in extricating herself. Being near him was breathtaking; he was a human whirlpool sucking her down into his torrent against her will, his current too strong to withstand.

  But do you truly want to resist? her interna! voice asked.

  Did she?

  The steady tempo of their mating increased, and she let herself be swept up in the delight. Her hands went to his arms, holding on as the joining became more intense. He was stroking her with his entire length, propelling himself all the way in, then receding to the tip, then plunging in again. Sweat beaded on his brow, and the cords of muscles in his neck grew thick and marked with tension.

  "I'm going to love you so hard and so deep"—he spoke through clenched teeth—"that I plant a babe in your womb. I want to make a baby with you, Penny. I need to know that my child is sheltered inside you."

  "Oh. . . Lucas ..." she breathed, unable to form an adequate reply. A child was the very entity he could give her to which she couldn't say no, the one true thing she had always craved. A child of his. A boy with dark hair and eyes who would act just like him, and who would grow to be an exotic, handsome man just like his father.

  "Will you allow me to try, love?" He pushed in, pushed again. Deeper, deeper, each surge bringing her closer to her heart's desire. "Tell me that you want a babe as well, that my child is what you desire more than anything in the world. Or tell me to stop." He hesitated imperceptibly. "The choice is yours. What is your answer? You must decide, so we may know how to finish it."

  She gazed up into the beautiful brown eyes that beheld her with such glowing devotion. Though he had hurt her terribly and she'd tried to convince herself that he was the worst sort of monster who had preyed on her unmercifully, she realized it wasn't so. The bad memories had vanished, along with her

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  animosity and torment. In their place was a sensation of finally ending up where she'd always belonged from the very start.

  Gone were the heartache and pain of the past weeks. All she could remember were those heady days they had shared at the country house, where she had been happy and inundated with joy. He had never been anything but attentive and amiable to her. He'd made her feel necessary, adored, and so very, very loved.

  Of their own accord her legs circled his thighs, and she locked them behind his back, holding him close, providing him with his answer. His smile spread in exultation, and he steadied his hands on her hips.

  "You'll never regret your decision," he vowed. "Not a single day of your life."

  After considering his statement for a long while, she asserted, "No, I don't suppose I ever will."

  "You'll have to marry me a second time. My brother will insist, I'm afraid."

  "Your blasted brother ..." she grumbled.

  "Oh . .. he's not such a bad fellow once you get to know him." Looking chastened, he shrugged and added, "If it's any consolation, he thinks I'm a cad and a scoundrel. He kicked my ahh . . . behind quite effectively, on your behalf, in an attempt to explain his low opinion of me."

  "Is that what you two were fighting about?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, then . . .
maybe you're right: Maybe he's not such a bad fellow."

  "He'll be so relieved if you say yes. So will Colette and the boys." He brushed a precious kiss across her lips. "So will I. Will you have me, Penny?" She vacillated, parts of her terribly leery, and he jumped into the void, hopefully striving to convince her. "Let us become a family, love. We'll proceed correctly this time, so I may proudly proclaim to the world that you are mine. Allow me the honor of being your husband. I swear that I will always be kind to you, that I will care for you

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  and watch over you. And I promise that I will love you and shower you with affection for the rest of my days."

  What woman on the whole of the earth could have said no to such a stirring declaration? She sighed, realizing it was pointless to pretend that she didn't want what he was offering, that it was senseless to try to avoid a destiny written in the stars against which it was useless to struggle.

  Many responses came to mind, each more logical and resourceful than the next, but she refused to spend much time pondering whether she was about to make the correct decision. And what was the correct decision anyway? If she didn't accept his overture, she gained nothing but a lifetime of wondering what might have been. She would pass by the gladness he gave her every minute and never again know this undiluted bliss.

  "Yes, I will," she whispered.

  "Oh . . . my true love," he said gently, and he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

  Tears were stinging at her eyes, and she cursed herself a thousand times for a fool, but then he was urgent and eager inside her, his long, thick shaft massaging her mysterious passage, and suddenly none of her reservations mattered. There was only him, and their joined bodies, and the possibility that this amazing moment might bring them a babe to cherish.

  She moved with him, her hips elatedly matching each penetration, until by the end, all she could do was hold on as the glorious waves of ecstasy washed over them with a stunning force.