Ecstasy n-4

by Nicole Jordan

  He shoved up her skirts and mounted her, his eyes glowing like embers, burning away the thin veneer of gentility. She arched as his plunging hotness penetrated her body, crying out in pleasure as he slid himself relentlessly within her.

  He took her with a pirate’s passion, and she responded with like fierceness, writhing beneath him as he thrust heavily into her again and again, his teeth bared. He was fire; he was heat and scorching flame that consumed her.

  An explosion shot through her an instant later-erotic, incredibly intense-and carried him along. The harsh sounds that tore from his throat during their raw, frenzied mating matched her cries of delight as he pumped hotly into her, shuddering in racking tremors with his own burning need.

  In the aftermath he sagged heavily in her arms. Her own strength shattered, Raven lay unmoving, loving the feel of his hard vital body pressed all along hers. Her fingers still clutched his hair, the ebony softness thick, sensual, alive, while his rapid breath teased the moist skin of her throat.

  A deep sigh escaped her. She should deplore what she had done. She had given herself to Kell with abandon, without the slightest attempt to protect herself.

  How could she have been so foolish? When she was with Kell, she shed any of the ladylike graces her mother had tried to instill in her. When he touched her, it was as if she became someone else, someone without shame or inhibitions. The rest of the world disappeared and desire alone infused her mind and body.

  Raven squeezed her eyes shut, fighting a desperate urgency. A secret part of her thrilled at being wanted so fiercely by this man, at experiencing his wild, sweet mastery, while another, deeper part of her nearly despaired. He was everything her heart warned against.

  Sweet heaven, she had to control herself. She couldn’t allow Kell to envelop her in emotional chaos. If she didn’t take care, she could find herself at his mercy, reaching for love and getting nothing in return but pain.

  And yet when he lifted his head, gazing down into her eyes with such warmth, her resistance fled.

  “I intend to spend the night in your bed,” he warned, his voice still hoarse with passion.

  Raven nodded wordlessly, knowing she couldn’t deny him.

  Several hours later, Kell lay with Raven in the dark, examining the strangeness of his feelings. They had retired to her bed after dinner and resumed the passionate exertions they’d unexpectedly begun in the drawing room. But only after she’d fallen asleep with her back curled spoon fashion in the curve of his body did he recognize the unfamiliar warmth that was flowing through him like a warm current.

  Happiness. He was feeling happiness for the first time since his childhood. All because of Raven.

  His loneliness had vanished, while his house had taken on new life in her enchanting presence. Her uniqueness was amazing, Kell thought, breathing in the fragrance of her midnight hair. Sparring with her was more exhilarating than making love to other women, and making love to her was…incredible.

  He didn’t know how many lovers he’d had in his lifetime, but he knew that the way he’d felt with them was nothing compared to what he felt now. This sense of perfection. Of completeness. Raven made him feel joy, as if he would explode with it if she merely smiled at him.

  He rubbed his knuckles softly against her bare arm, slowly savoring the silken texture of her skin. He hadn’t meant to make love to her this afternoon, at least not with such violence. But hot need had welled up in him the instant he’d touched her-and fierce male triumph had flooded him when she’d responded so eagerly. Her soft moans of arousal had nearly driven him mad. Even now, after a night of lusty passion, he wanted to take her again.

  He was caught in the heat of his own desires, he knew…and something more. Is it love?

  The thought startled him. When an accusing image of Sean rose up to taunt him, he pushed the damning thought away. His loyalty to his brother had nothing to do with his feelings for Raven.

  So what did he feel for her?

  He wanted more than just a taste of Raven. He wanted to consume her, totally, absolutely, utterly. Desire for her burned like a fever. She was beautiful, tantalizing, everything he wanted in this world. But just as strong as physical desire was the need to be with her, to laugh and fight with her, to cradle her in his arms, to protect her, to make her happy, to know happiness with her…

  The want that rose up in him was so intense he had to shut his eyes.

  Love. Was that the name for the overpowering feeling that was swamping him? The emotion he hadn’t thought he needed?

  Kell sucked in a ragged breath, recognizing the truth. He loved her. The realization was frightening, exhilarating, unreal. He had lost the battle with himself.

  Yet Raven was still fighting the battle. Even clasped against his heart, she still kept herself apart. She was too afraid of him. Afraid of giving herself, of losing herself, of loving.

  Just then she stirred in her sleep, making him excruciatingly aware of her nakedness, of her ripe buttocks pressing against his loins. His longing was so sharp he had to clench his teeth. How could he still be this aroused after thoroughly sating himself?

  Even as he swore a low oath, he gave in to his hunger. Shaping his palm to her feminine curves, he stroked her hip, then slid his hand around to her flat belly and lower…finding the warm, dewy cleft of her womanhood, plying her till he felt the sleek moisture that proclaimed her desire.

  She still slept as, from behind, he slipped his arousal between her thighs; yet when he pushed himself into the yielding softness of her body, she stirred awake with a moan and pressed back against him eagerly.

  Kell gave a rough sigh of pleasure and slid himself deeper into the hot, wet, incredibly tight clasp of her, his rhythm slow and tender, sheathing and drawing away until it became sweet, ecstatic torture for them both.

  In only moments, though, the pleasure became too fierce to be borne. Kell shuddered, his tenderness giving way to savage demand. Rocking his hips, he drove her to a trembling climax before he found his own release, convulsing as his seed spurted from his body, filling her.

  Holding her shaking body in the aftermath, he buried his face in her hair. He had met his match; he knew it without a doubt. But it remained to convince Raven of that.

  Thus far their relationship had been purely carnal, based only on satisfying their mutual sexual needs. He had stirred her heart’s hidden passion, he suspected, but if they were to have a true marriage, he would have to overcome Raven’s fear of love. He would have to show her that loving him didn’t mean losing herself.

  As the final ripples of passion faded, she eased away and turned over in his arms, sleepily lifting her face to his. Her mouth was warm and soft, pliant and willing-and there was such sweetness in her kiss, it sent shock waves all the way to his heart. Gathering her close, Kell returned her kiss with tender fervor, treasuring Raven’s gentle sigh of repletion when she curled her arm around his neck and nestled her head on his shoulder.

  And as he lay there with her, wrapped in the night shadows of her hair, he made a silent vow. Someday they would be husband and wife in truth. If it took to the end of his days, he would convince Raven to let herself love him.

  A welcome thaw put an end to the Frost Fair shortly after their visit, but that day proved to be a pivotal turning point in her marriage. To Raven’s dismay, Kell began spending his nights in her bedchamber. He would come home late from his club and join her in bed, rousing her from sleep and stirring her to new heights of passionate abandon.

  He shared her company during the days as well. She often found Kell still at the breakfast table, reading the morning papers, when she returned from her rides in the park. He provided her escort to the various social events she chose to attend. And occasionally he even invited her to join him at the club.

  Raven found herself struggling desperately against her own awakened desires. Kell filled her with ecstasy and impossible longings, ruling her thoughts, waking or sleeping. She wanted to touch him a hundred times a da
y.

  Even when she sought refuge in her fantasies, he foiled her. It had been so long since she had indulged in daydreams of her pirate lover that when she tried to conjure up his image, all she could visualize was Kell.

  Her fantasy lover had become Kell in the flesh.

  The realization that she was so vulnerable to him frightened her. But she had never before been subjected to a Kell bent on seduction, and she could summon little resistance to his determined charm. He seemed to be laying siege to her heart, tearing away the walls of her defenses, stone by stone.

  Her defenses crumbled even more one day toward the end of February. They had just finished breakfasting when Kell asked her to join him in his study.

  Upon inspecting the first document he handed her, Raven realized it was the deed to an estate. The second document was a copy of letters patent for a barony.

  “My lady Frayne,” Kell murmured, giving her a graceful bow.

  She gazed at him in bewilderment. “I don’t understand.”

  “We are now Baron and Baroness Frayne. You wanted to be wed to a gentleman of rank, and I managed to accommodate your wish.”

  “But…how?”

  “It took less effort than I expected,” Kell explained, his mouth curling cynically. “Dare was right. The Regent’s coffers are so straitened that he leapt at my offer of financial aid. Subsequently I purchased an estate in the wilds of Northumberland, and now I have the title of baron to go with it.”

  Raven shook her head in amazement, still not quite believing. Kell was now Lord Frayne and she was his lady? His generous gesture must have cost him a fortune-and he had made the effort for her sake, even though he despised such things as rank and class distinctions and aristocratic privilege.

  “The ton will undoubtedly fawn over us now,” she said slowly, “but I know how much you dislike the trappings of society. You shouldn’t be required to assume a title if you don’t care to.”

  He shrugged. “It is only a term of address, as far as I’m concerned. It doesn’t change who I am.”

  “I suppose it does not change who I am, either,” Raven added, her tone thoughtful. “This does not make me a genuine lady. I will always be a bastard.”

  Raising an eyebrow, Kell surveyed her levelly. “Does it really matter a damn who your father was or wasn’t?” When she didn’t reply, he went on. “I regret that baroness is not as illustrious a title as duchess, but I hoped it might serve to satisfy your vow to your mother.”

  Raven flashed a tremulous smile. He was right, of course. The title itself wasn’t as important as what it represented; she could indeed keep the promise she had made to her mother.

  She felt her eyes burn with tears. “Kell…I don’t know how to thank you. My mother would have cherished this.”

  His own smile was wry. “My mother would have been pleased as well. She was never one for retribution, but she would have enjoyed watching her son become a lord after all the slights she endured because of her modest origins. I wish she were alive to see it.”

  Raven heard the sorrow in his voice and realized it was a measure of how far they had come that Kell let her see his pain rather than try to conceal it from her.

  Raven turned away to hide her dismay at another realization. She knew with frightening clarity that if she let herself, she could love Kell.

  I can’t fall in love with him, she murmured fiercely to herself. Loving Kell would be reckless, foolish, mad. He had made it abundantly clear he wanted nothing but her body. He wasn’t the kind of man to surrender his heart in undying passion, especially to the woman he’d been compelled to offer his name in marriage.

  Losing control of her own heart could be utterly disastrous. She could spend the rest of her life yearning for what she could never have.

  And yet she very much feared he would leave her no choice.

  Just then she felt his presence behind her. When Kell slid his arms around her and bent to nuzzle her nape, Raven tensed, calling on every ounce of willpower she possessed not to respond.

  Fortunately she wasn’t required to, for she heard a throat being cleared from the doorway. Feeling a surge of relief at the interruption, Raven turned to find the butler awaiting them, his gaze politely averted.

  “Yes, Knowles?” Kell demanded without much patience.

  Assuming an apologetic look, the servant handed him a folded slip of paper. “A message from Miss Walsh, sir.”

  Raven watched as Kell scanned the contents and saw his face cloud over with that same enigmatic mask he’d once worn.

  “What is it?” she asked, not knowing whether to be alarmed.

  “It seems my brother has returned to London,” Kell said gravely, his dark eyes hooded as they met hers.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kell wished he could be pleased by his brother’s return, but he couldn’t summon any joy at the news. Instead, his most prominent emotion was guilt for shirking his duty.

  For the past two months he’d tried to avoid thinking much of his brother. Even a fortnight ago when he’d received an alarming complaint from the horse farm in Ireland, he hadn’t acted. According to the steward, Sean had whipped a mare until her coat ran with blood.

  Kell knew he should have gone to Ireland then, but he’d been too wrapped up in pursuing his wife to spare time for his brother. The most he’d done was investigate a new doctor and inquire about uncommon treatments for someone of Sean’s savage moods.

  And Sean’s mood would undoubtedly turn savage when Kell couldn’t deny he had fallen for his wife. Certainly Sean would feel betrayed.

  Kell had hoped they could discuss the matter in private, but his brother wasn’t at the club, nor was he to be found at his lodgings.

  Kell decided against traipsing all over London in search of him, but he withdrew his invitation to Raven to join him at the club that evening. He wasn’t going to hide, but he wanted Raven safely out of the way in case Sean’s reaction was explosive.

  Yet he couldn’t shake the foreboding in his gut when the evening’s gaming began.

  He spent most of the night accepting congratulations, for word of his new title had gotten around. Regrettably, his brother had already gotten wind of it as well.

  When Sean arrived near midnight, he was three sheets to the wind.

  Kell intercepted him as he entered the hazard room. “Welcome back,” he said, taking his brother’s elbow to steady him.

  Angrily Sean brushed off his assistance. “I hear you’re a bleedin’ lord now.”

  “Why don’t you join me upstairs and we can discuss it?”

  “Doan wanna discuss it!” His glaze bleary, he glanced around him. “Where is she?”

  “Where is who?”

  “That shhlut you made your wife. Hear sheesh leadin’ you around by the nose.”

  “Sean, that is enough!”

  Sean cast him a glance full of fury and pain. “Damn you, Kell. I warn’ you what would happen.”

  Turning, he stumbled out. Kell followed him to the front door and watched as Sean climbed awkwardly into a waiting hackney.

  Unable to shake his disquiet, Kell hailed another hackney and took the club’s bruiser with him as a precaution. Raven was at home alone, with only a few servants for protection.

  He arrived in time to see Sean pounding on the front door, yelling obscenities at the top of his lungs. Kell leapt from the hired carriage just as lights appeared in several windows. An instant later the door swung open to reveal O’Malley standing there.

  Without warning Sean lunged at the groom. Unable to dodge the hands that were intent on choking him, the Irishman let fly a blow to the jaw that set Sean reeling backward down the front steps.

  After tumbling several revolutions, he landed facedown with a groan. When Kell reached him, he was cursing violently again, but he brushed off any help and struggled to sit up.

  “I’ll not be begging his pardon, m’lord,” O’Malley declared, flexing his fingers. “I would not let him harm Miss Raven.”


  Kell glanced up, belatedly realizing he was the one being addressed as “m’lord.” Raven had come to the door, he saw. She was holding a candle aloft and clutching the lapels of her wrapper closed with her other hand, her hair a wild mane around her shoulders.

  Climbing to his knees, Sean brandished his fists at the groom. “You’ll pay for that!” he growled, then pointed at Raven. “And so will you!”

  With a curse of his own, Kell helped his brother to stand and escorted him forcibly to the first hackney. He paid the jarvey double the usual fee to see that the drunken gentleman got safely home and ordered his own man, Belker, to watch over Sean until he could call in the morning. The club’s doorman was a former pugilist and could easily overpower Sean if need be.

  When the carriage had driven off down the dark street, Kell dismissed the second hackney. Then he returned to the house where Raven awaited with her groom and a dozen other concerned servants. Kell sent them all back to bed, but O’Malley remained, the set of his massive shoulders belligerent.

  “I had no course but to use my fives,” the groom insisted, his gruff tone defensive.

  “I agree,” Kell said evenly.

  “I’ll not let him harm her.”

  “I should hope not. I’m grateful she has you for protection, Mr. O’Malley.”

  Giving Kell an assessing stare, the Irishman finally nodded.

  Raven couldn’t relinquish her own anger so readily, but she didn’t wish to give vent to it in front of her groom. “I am grateful as well, O’Malley,” she interjected. “Thank you. Why don’t you return to bed now?”

  With a tug of his forelock, he disappeared toward the back service stairs.

  She gave her husband a blazing glare when they were alone. “Kell, you must do something. This cannot go on.”

  Kell’s jaw tightened. “I know.” Turning on his heel, he went into his study.

  Almost trembling with rage, Raven followed. She shut the door carefully behind them and set down her candle before she threw it.