He halted his movements. It took every ounce of willpower he had but he stilled his hands as he nipped at her lips. Death would be nothing compared the torture of having Julianna in his hands but not being able to do anything with her.
She pressed her breasts up against him and wriggled on his lap. “Drake.”
“Princess, you must be trying to kill me.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I want to take this slowly. I need to take this slowly.”
She shook her head. “There will be time for that. Drake, please...”
He seized her hands as they pulled at his shirt while she continued her torturous wet, balmy kisses down his neck. God’s teeth, what had he unleashed? He should have known Julianna would be a siren in the bedroom too. Though he could not quite figure out if she was beckoning him to his doom or his salvation. Either way, he had little choice. In his wildest dreams he had never imagined he would be worthy of a woman such as this.
“We must go slow,” he insisted, drawing in a ragged breath that singed his lungs. He kept his fingers clamped around her wrists.
There was nothing he wanted more than to take her in his arms and make her well and truly his. He felt an intense, primeval need to mark her as his property, but she was an innocent and he’d be damned if he hurt her with his roughness.
His hands rasped over her arms, her breasts and thighs as she tugged at his top, sliding her hands beneath the open collar. He hissed as her hands connected with his skin and left a burning sensation as they pulled away to tug once again at his shirt. Drake moved back, instantly mourning the loss of her body pushed up against his, and pulled off his shirt in one swift movement.
Julianna’s throat bobbed, her lips parting. She brushed her hands gently over the planes of his chest and he tensed. Closing his eyes, he clenched his teeth, and tried not to think about how often he’d imagined this. If he did, he’d lose control in an instant.
He rolled her over on the bed and placed her underneath him. He took in the sight of her sprawled on his bed once more, her breasts rising and falling, her mouth already swollen from his kisses. He pushed her gown higher until his fingertips brushed the tops of her thighs.
“So damned soft.”
She squirmed in anticipation.
Grabbing the waist of his breeches, she pulled him down onto her. He kissed her forcefully before moving his mouth down her neck, working his way to her still confined breasts. He kissed the rise of her flesh, his fingers pushing under her back to tear at the laces on the back of her gown. Drake pulled desperately at the hem of her gown, pushing it up over her hips while still kissing her skin. Pulling away briefly to tear the garment over her head, he gazed down at her.
Vulnerability shone in her gaze. Yet she offered herself to him, lifting her breasts. A smile teased his lips at the wanton sight she offered, still bound in her stays with her thighs naked and her legs parted. He’d take away any trepidation she felt in just a moment, but he had to embed this in his mind. If, by some chance, he never got the chance with her again, he had to remember this forever.
She reached for him, drawing him down. Once he sealed his lips over hers, he was gone. He pushed her breasts up and out of her stays and caressed her skin with rough motions, paying attention to every part of her body, placing blistering kisses on her neck, her breasts, and her inner thighs.
Easing upward, he fisted a hand in her hair and tugged, giving him perfect access to her neck. He sunk his teeth into her skin, nipping and sucking, aware he’d be marking her. She whimpered and dug her nails into his back.
Julianna lifted her hips. He could not help but rock forward.
“Christ, but you’re wet.”
She nodded, biting down on one lip. He rocked again, and she moaned. Keeping her hair tangled around one hand, he tugged her head back and moved forward again and again, teasing them both. Each movement sent blistering pleasure simmering through him and he had no doubt from the parted lips and gasping breaths he did the same for her. He ground his erection hard against her. It was damned torture but worth every aching second as he ramped up her pleasure.
Drake slipped a hand between them, finding her wet juncture and sliding a finger between her folds.
“Princess,” he growled. “I can’t hold back.”
A strangled whimper emanated from her. “Don’t.”
He buried his head against her neck, nipping her lobe while clasping her thigh. She lifted into him, latching her legs around his body. His eyes near rolled into the back of his head at the feel of her so damned hot and ready for him. Raising his head, he met her gaze.
One thrust. That was all it took. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened in a silent gasp. One long, deep thrust. There was no going back. He stared at her, all too aware the startling realization had to be written on his face. His siren had claimed him. He loved her.
And now he needed to claim her in return. He drew back and thrust again. Her fingers dug into his rear. She called his name, the sound strangled. Another hard thrust. The rhythm claimed him, just as he knew it would. He could no more hold back than he could dictate the tides.
“God, Princess...” Thrust. “I...” Thrust. “Love.” Thrust. “You.”
She didn’t reply. He did not care. Even if she never loved him, he’d treasure the moment when he took her as his.
Her hands gripped at his body, digging into him as he took them to new heights of pleasure, tracing the curve of his spine and clutching at his buttocks as they moved in unison, panting and crying out. She tensed against him as she called his name, her body clenching around him. The abyss took him. He clenched his eyes shut and groaned out his pleasure.
“I love you,” she whispered in his ear as they lay still joined, fighting for air.
Drake laid his forehead on hers and closed his eyes with a small smile. Her brother be damned. Tomorrow he was searching out Knight and demanding Julianna’s hand.
Chapter Eighteen
Twisting in the narrow confines of the bed, Julianna studied Drake as he slept peacefully. His breaths heavy and even, his features were relaxed. Her fingers twitched with the need to touch his slightly parted lips and feel the coarseness of the stubble on his chin. There were patches on her skin that she could still feel where his bristle had skimmed her. Her mouth was swollen from his kisses. Parts of her ached. But it was all in the most blissful way.
Easing out from underneath his arm, she slipped into her clothes and dashed fingers through her hair. The hour was still early but she could stay asleep no longer. Her breath caught when she stopped to look at Drake again. All sinew and muscle spread out beneath a white sheet. She smiled. It was hard to believe she had done something so scandalous and, yet, she had no regrets. He loved her, and she could deny her feelings no longer. This roguish man had worked his way deep into her heart and would not be denied.
Now all she had to do was persuade Knight that Drake was the man for her. She grimaced to herself. It would be easier said than done, but most certainly easier without Drake, who seemed to take an inordinate amount of pleasure in riling her brother. Now was the time for soft words and certainly no teasing or aggravating.
She peered about for her shoes. She could hardly recall when she’d slipped them off. Or if she had. They might have been flung off by Drake in his haste to have her unclothed. The previous night was a blissful blur of pleasure. After taking her to bed, he had woken her with kisses later in the night and made love to her once more, the moonlight streaming in through the window and lighting his body with a silvery touch. A shiver of pleasure trailed up her spine at the memory.
Julianna slipped out of the sleeping quarters and paused at his desk to find a slip of paper. Dipping a quill into the ink pot, she scrawled off a hasty note.
Gone to the inn. Find me when you wake.
She hesitated over how to finish it. The words were still new and fresh and uncertain. She shook her head to herself. If she was going to persuade her brother that she and Drake should
be together, she would have to seem more certain than this. She finished the letter with a quick flourish.
I love you. Julianna.
The bright fingers of dawn spread themselves over the deck of the ship. The stillness of the morning wrapped itself about her. A little mist came in off the sea and curled around her ankles as she walked down the gangplank. The clang of metal knocking gently against wood and the creak of ships were her only company at this hour.
It was risky, becoming a smuggler’s wife, yet no riskier than marrying for money or because her father wanted her to. With Drake, she knew exactly what she was getting. He loved her better than any other man could, and she somehow knew they could conquer whatever life sent their way together.
Julianna wrapped her arms about herself. Her breaths created clouds in front of her and the brisk chill quickly erased any fatigue left in her body. Once she started toward the inn, warmth spread rapidly through her muscles thanks to her quick pace. The village began to awaken, people coming out of their homes to start their day and men heading down to the harbor to sort their catch or ready their boats for their next trip out to sea. Drake would likely scold her for heading out on her own, but they had not seen a single sign of John since that first day. Penshallow was far too small for two men to simply disappear and not be noticed, so surely he had given up? Perhaps he had gone to search one of the other towns nearby. Or even better, had returned to Northumberland and given her up for good.
With any luck, Louisa would know where her brother was. The man was far too mysterious for his own good. They’d been reunited for some time now but he’d still yet to tell her what he’d been doing all these years or what had created those scars. Still, once she no longer had to worry about being married off to John, she could concentrate on finding out what on earth had happened to him—and demand why he did not tell her of the true nature of their smuggling ring.
“To keep me away from Drake, most likely,” she muttered to herself.
Well, as much as she loved her brother, she would not let him dissuade her from marrying Drake. And if he cared for her at all, he would give them his blessing.
As she slipped into the rear door of the inn, she froze.
“You’re up early.” Louisa paused kneading a wad of dough.
She forced a smile. “I could not sleep so went for a walk.”
Louisa arched a brow. “If you say so.”
“You are up early too. We have no need of more pies, do we?” Julianna watched Louisa pound away at the dough as though it had aggravated her indeed.
“I could not sleep either.”
“Is something troubling you?”
Louisa stilled, hesitated then shook her head. “No, no, all is well.”
Julianna frowned but did not press the matter. Louisa had become a good friend, but she still did not share much about herself. She knew that Louisa had been in a loveless but friendly marriage to the original owner of this inn and that she was a determined business woman. But when it came to much else, Louisa kept quiet.
“I do not suppose you saw my brother last night, did you?” Julianna asked.
A flush of color ran into Louisa’s cheeks at the mention of Knight. Louisa pulled up the dough from the table, turned and placed it into a bowl. “No, why would you think I had?”
“He was here very late. I thought he might have taken a room,” Julianna said to Louisa’s back.
Louisa lifted her shoulders. “I am not his keeper. I would not know what he did last night.”
Julianna’s frown deepened. What on earth had put Louisa in such a mood and why did she seem so aggravated at the mention of Knight?
“Well, I shall get started on the chores. I’m sure he shall turn up before long.”
Louisa glanced over her shoulder, a slight smile on her face. “You might want to run a brush through your hair first. You look as though you have been ravished.”
Julianna opened her mouth to protest, decided against it and hastened upstairs to splash her face with water, change out of her crumpled gown and quickly brush and pin up her hair. Once she was done, she eyed herself in the grainy mirror. The rosy puffiness of her lips remained, and she was sure there was color in her cheeks that had not been there before.
When she returned downstairs, Louisa had moved into the taproom and was scrubbing at tables with the same amount of vigor as she had been beating that poor dough. Julianna shook her head. Goodness knew what had caused her mood, but she would not press her. If Louisa wanted to talk to her, she would come to her eventually.
Snatching up a bucket, she stepped outside and headed toward the well. Dawn had given way to day and the skies had remained clear and bright. She sucked in a breath of fresh air as it tumbled over the cliffs and smiled to herself. She had always adored the rugged beauty of the Northumbrian countryside but being by the coast invigorated one somewhat. She had certainly never pictured herself drawing water whilst looking out over the sea, ready to spend a day toiling in an inn, but it brought far more satisfaction than sitting around in the drawing room, hoping not to draw the ire of her father.
As she turned with the bucket, a hand clamped across her mouth. She screamed against it, but the noise was muffled. A hard body slammed into her back and she dropped the bucket. Water sloshed over her shoes and the hem of her gown, its cold touch making her squeal again.
She wriggled against the hand, registering the scent of tobacco on the fingers. An arm banded around her waist like steel, drawing her into the unforgiving body of her assailant. She struck back with her legs and bit down on the hand. Her attacker cursed and crushed his hand back across her face before she could let out a scream. He pinched her face so hard, she feared she would not be able to draw another breath. She forced in air through her nostrils and tried to press against the hold once more while stomping down on his foot with her own.
“Damn it,” the man cursed. He released her for a second and she pushed away, nearly stumbling to the ground. As she righted herself and twisted to face him, a fist shot out.
Pain burst through her cheek and she fell to the ground. Her eyelids were instantly weighted down, and her thoughts slowed. She tried to lift her gaze but could only make out black boots as the man came to stand in front of her. He grabbed her and slung her over his shoulder, making her retch at the press of his shoulder into her gut. Her movements were sluggish, and her head pounded. The ground passed by in a blur.
The press of his shoulder eased, and hands pushed and pulled at her until she felt fabric beneath her palms and cheek. She blinked slowly, taking in the darker surroundings. A trickle of something tickled her face and she tasted blood in her mouth.
“You weren’t supposed to hurt her.”
Her insides turned to ice. She might not have full control of her senses, but she recognized John’s voice anywhere.
“She fought me,” her attacker protested. The second man from the night on Drake’s ship, she realized. “Bloody bit me too.”
“Never mind, get in. We need to get out of here before one of those wretched men who have been watching over her discovers she has gone.”
When the seat beneath her rocked and a door slammed, it dawned on her. They were in a carriage. And John was kidnapping her. Her throat tightened, and she had to force in lungfuls of air. Trying to blink away the fog crowding her mind, she attempted to push up.
A hand pressed her back down, forcing her face into the prickly velvet of the seat. “Stay down if you know what’s good for you,” John hissed.
She jerked away from the touch and lashed out with a hand. Her fingers struck skin and she was able to get to her feet and stumble for the door as hands grabbed at her.
“Help!” she screamed out of the window as she fumbled blindly for the door handle.
A hand fisted in her hair. She cried out, her scalp burning from the vicious yank that hauled her back. Julianna tumbled back and was pinned to the seat by John’s acquaintance. He gripped her face and shoved something into
her mouth. When she tried to spit it out, he pressed it in deeper and she felt him knot something around her head. Exhaustion ate into her while her head pounded. The hit across the face had done lasting damage it seemed.
She called Drake’s name against the gag while her hands were bound behind her back, even knowing he was on his ship and would never hear her. The carriage moved underneath her body and she knew the pace would be fast. The chances were, by the time Drake awoke, she would be long gone.
Chapter Nineteen
Drake shoved a hand through his hair and set to work on running the razor over his stubbled chin. He glanced at the letter Julianna had left and grinned to himself. I love you. Christ, he had no idea what he had done to deserve such a woman, but he was mighty glad she felt the same.
He peered into the mirror and eyed his clean jaw. He doubted cleaning himself up a little would make any kind of impression on Knight—the chances were the man would want to fight him—but he had to at least try to look respectable.
After dressing, he donned a cravat and shoved his feet into boots. He ran his fingers through damp hair once more and drew in a breath.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” he asked his reflection.
Knight could kill him. He could say no. Either of those outcomes were certainly not what he hoped for. He had to try, though. He’d never wanted anything more than he wanted Julianna’s hand in marriage. He just had to hope Knight did not say no and Julianna said yes.
He marched his way through the village toward the inn. At this time of the day, Knight would be there for the morning meal. Maybe if the beast had eaten, he would feel less like smashing Drake’s face in. One could hope anyway.
Pushing open the door to the inn, he scanned the room for a sign of Julianna or Knight. He knew which one he’d prefer to see but he’d have to face Knight sooner or later. He might not be the most gentlemanly of men, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to do this properly.
Waiting for a Rogue Like You Page 12