Deceived

by Jess Michaels

  He was stiff for a moment, almost surprised by her kiss, but then his arms came around her and he molded her closer, tilting his head so he could angle their kiss deeper. She opened to him and explored him in return, tasting every inch of him with all the passion she had ever felt.

  All the love she was beginning to feel.

  But no, she would not think about that. Not right now. Right now all she wanted was to feel Evan’s arms tighten, to feel his passion rise, to give in to pleasure and desire and everything that boiled between them.

  She arched against him and he let out a low moan that broke their kiss.

  “You are killing me,” he muttered.

  “It’s only a little death,” she whispered back.

  He leaned away. “And how do you know about le petit mort?”

  “I read books. I told you. And you’ve taught me plenty about it, haven’t you?”

  He made a low growl deep in his throat—it was a possessive, masculine sound, and her body clenched as moisture began to pool between her thighs.

  His mouth covered hers again and she drove her tongue against his, tasting him, feeling him, drowning in him. He pushed her backward across the room until her legs touched the settee. She trusted him as he lowered her against it and covered her body with the solid weight of his own.

  She cupped the back of his head, holding him steady as he made love to her mouth and set her body on fire with longing. She arched beneath him, rubbing her body on his, and he moaned with pleasure and pain mixed.

  “Josie, we can’t,” he murmured even as he dragged his lips down her neck. “Not here.”

  “Please don’t deny me,” she whispered, grasping her own skirts and tugging them up between them. “Not when I need you so very, very much.”

  He shook his head, but she could see he was lost. She had power over him, at least when it came to this. He had needs, and right at this moment, she wanted to use them.

  She wanted more than he had ever given before. She wanted it all.

  His hands slipped under her rapidly rising skirts and he found her sex. He stroked one finger across the wet slit and shuddered out a sigh.

  “Damn it,” he growled beneath his breath.

  She smiled at his frustration. “Sit up,” she whispered. “Perhaps we can pleasure each other together.”

  He stared down into her eyes, seeking out something there for so long that she feared he might see into her very soul. Then he did as she asked. He tugged her to a seated position and placed himself next to her. With a flick of his wrist, he unfastened his trousers and popped free, already hard and heavy.

  She couldn’t help herself. She reached for him, taking him in hand and stroking him from head to base once, twice. His eyes squeezed shut and he rested his head back on the settee with a moan.

  “Josie,” he whispered, her voice a warning, a prayer, a caress.

  She continued to smooth her hand over him, studying his face as he lifted into her, watching as desire and pleasure rolled over him. As she worked, he stole his own hand back between her legs and began to gently stroke her.

  She sighed with pleasure, but deep within her there was something else. Frustration. Oh, she knew they could bring each other to completion this way, sitting next to each other, their hands free to explore. But she didn’t want that. She wanted more. She wanted everything.

  She wanted it now.

  She thought of that book she had stolen all those years ago, thought of the pictures it showed. Of women straddling their men, taking them inside for that final act of passion that Evan denied her.

  She jolted against his questing fingers and cast a side glance at him. His eyes were still closed, he was focused on the pleasures they each gave. In a moment, she could straddle him, open to him. He had denied her that final act before, but what would he say if she was right there, her wet heat teasing him, demanding what she wanted?

  He might be angry later, but she wanted this. She wanted to know pleasure and possession now in case she never had this chance again.

  She held her breath as she swiftly moved, straddling him in one fluid motion. His eyes flew open as she positioned her sex against his cock.

  “Josie!” he gasped, his pupils dilated with excitement and pleasure mixed with horror.

  “Please,” she whispered, arching over him, feeling the tip of his cock nudge her and aching for more. “Please let me.”

  “You can’t,” he murmured, but she ignored him and began to slide over him. “My God,” he growled as he grasped her hips. “You are like heaven.”

  She met his gaze and held it there. “Please, Evan. Please don’t stop me. Please don’t turn me away.”

  His lips parted and she could see his struggle. Animal versus gentleman. Future versus present. Need versus reason. And in the end, he let out a shuddering sigh. The grip on her hips tightened and he began to gently ease her down over him. There was a burst of pain almost immediately as he slipped inside, and he held steady.

  “There,” he said, his voice low and gentle. “Now you have been claimed.”

  She swallowed as the pain began to fade and she was aware of his width in her, stretching her, making them one body. The thought aroused her further and she looked down at him.

  “That is all?”

  “No,” he said with a grim smile. “Not even close.”

  He lifted up slowly and more of him entered her, more and more until she felt their bodies fully meet. Her eyes went wide as she stared down at him.

  “It is very full,” she whispered, flexing her hips a little to test the feeling. A shot of pleasure met her at the act, and she gasped.

  “Oh God, that was what you need to do,” he moaned. “Move just like that. Over and over, Josie. Move like that until you come.”

  His rough voice, the desperation in his tone, spurred her on, and she did exactly as she had been told. By instinct, she rolled her hips over his, finding the places where the movement gave her pleasure, observing how it affected him. He watched her as she did it, his eyes wide and filled with lust. That look drove her, the feel of him inside of her drove her and she thrust over him in a ceaseless rhythm that lifted her higher and higher.

  So high that she could almost taste release. She could feel it coming, and then it was there. With a soft cry, she was overcome by the bursting dam of pleasure, the rippling spasms of her body.

  He groaned and in a smooth motion, he caught her by her backside and flipped her over on her back on the settee. He was still inside of her, and as her pleasure rolled over her he began to grind his hips against her, thrusting relentlessly, lifting her orgasm to even more intense plains.

  And just when she thought she could take no more, just when her vision began to blur and the world tipped precariously out of control, he let out a groan and she felt the wet heat of him fill her.

  He collapsed against her, holding her tight to him, his body still molded within her. She curled against him, spreading her fingers against his chest to feel his heart pound in time to her own.

  It was done. She was no longer a virgin. She had experienced passion at its fullest extent and oh, how she had loved every moment of it. Loved every moment with Evan. Now, even when this was over, she would still have this memory to cling to on nights when she was sad to be a spinster.

  Evan shifted, and suddenly he pulled away from her. Their bodies parted and she shivered at the loss of his warmth. She watched as he stood, tucking himself back in place, buttoning his trousers, removing all evidence that they had done something so beautiful.

  Finally, he looked at her. Glanced at her, really, for he would not hold his stare on her for too long, and her heart sank.

  “Josie,” he began.

  She pushed to her own feet, smoothing her gown over herself. “Oh, please, Evan. Please don’t say this was a mistake.”

  “But it was,” he whispered, turning his face from hers. “What I have done.”

  “You’ve done nothing.” She reached for hi
s arm. “Look at me.”

  He did so, but slowly, like he didn’t want to face her. “You know what you say isn’t true. As a gentleman, I should not have allowed this.”

  “I asked you to have me,” she insisted. “I knew what I wanted and you gave it to me.”

  His lips pursed and he pulled his arm from her grip and paced away. She watched him move restlessly about the chamber, watched his unhappy face whenever he turned and allowed her to see it.

  “Evan, I do not expect anything from you,” she whispered. “This was not a trick, not a trap. I wanted to feel passion and you gave me that gift. Now I know what it is like to be desired and claimed and I can live with whatever the future brings. Think of this as a gift you’ve given me. I thank you and I absolve you of any guilt you may feel over what just transpired.”

  He stopped pacing and looked at her. Really looked at her, and she felt like he was almost seeing her for the first time. She shifted under that hard, focused stare.

  “Josie, I claimed your innocence. And I spent inside you, so we might have created a child.” He shook his head. “Propriety—nay, honor—dictates what must happen next.”

  Josie could hardly breathe as she watched him begin to move toward her. “Evan—”

  “Josie, we must marry.”

  “Honor,” Josie repeated, and Evan flinched at the suddenly flat and emotionless tone of her voice. Just a moment before it had been filled with excitement, pleasure and the remnants of desire.

  Oh, he had gone too far. Worse, he had known how out of control he was allowing the situation to become, perhaps from the first moment he had touched Josie. But when she had pressed her sex to him, when he had felt her humid heat and saw her trembling need, reason had been crushed. Honor had been silenced.

  He could not have denied her in that moment any more than he could deny himself breath. Taking her had been everything he’d dreamed of and more.

  But now there were consequences.

  “Honor, Evan?” she repeated again.

  He nodded. “Yes. Josie, what I’ve done is unforgiveable. What we’ve done could cause a lifetime of consequences for us and for our families. The only thing we can do, whether we want to or not, is to marry.”

  Her face twisted, her cheeks filled with red heat, and she backed away. “Why, you are a romantic, my lord.”

  He frowned. “You want romance in this moment?”

  She shook her head. “No, Evan, I don’t want anything in this moment. I got what I wanted already. But I never asked for more.” She moved even further away, closer to the door. “And while I thank you for your kind offer to lower yourself to be my husband, I am afraid I have to decline. Good evening.”

  He stepped toward her to stop her, but she had already turned the handle and yanked the door open. But before she could escape, she came to a sudden stop, for right in the hallway was Gabriel.

  “Ah,” his brother said with a slight smile for Josie. “There you two are. You’ve been missed.”

  Josie shifted and shot Evan a quick look over her shoulder. Her hurt was plain on her face. But so was her strength. Strength he wanted to lean into, to share.

  “Well, then I should get back,” she said. “And it is lucky you are here, for I’m certain your brother has a great deal to discuss with you. Good night, gentlemen.”

  She shoved past Gabriel and hurried away, leaving Evan in his place like he had been glued there. Gabriel leaned into the hall to watch Josie go and shook his head.

  “What did she mean by that?” he muttered, then came into the room and shut the door. “Or, wait, did she tell you something about Claire?”

  Evan fisted his hands at his sides and paced away from his brother. “Not everything is about Claire, Gabriel.”

  “No, of course not,” Gabriel muttered. “So you don’t know anything new.”

  “I know a great deal of new things,” Evan mused, thinking of the way Josie’s tight body felt pulsing around him in pleasure, the way her face looked when he filled her. “Just not about Claire.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “What is going on?”

  Evan scrubbed a hand over his face before he looked at his brother again. Gabriel was too observant for Evan to pretend nothing had just happened. And in truth, he needed to talk about this with someone he could trust. There was no one in the world he trusted more than his brothers.

  “Josie and I…” he began. “Josie and I made love.”

  Gabriel stared at him, blinking and unspeaking, for what felt like an eternity. “Made love? As in made love, made love? As in sex?”

  Evan glared at him. “That is what making love means.”

  Gabriel took a long step back. “I-I—”

  “Well, I have shut you up,” Evan drawled. “I suppose that is a point in my favor, at least.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m just…shocked.” Gabriel moved across the room and sat down, happily in a chair before the fire and not the settee where Gabriel and Josie had just been so entangled.

  “Why are you shocked? It isn’t as if this hasn’t happened before,” Evan said softly. “Men take women every day.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “You and Edward were never libertines, but I know you both had your dalliances here and there. Still, there is a difference between you tupping an obliging widow or the occasional light skirt and taking Josie, who is…was an innocent!”

  Evan heard the judgment in his brother’s tone and it rubbed raw along his own guilt. “I thought you wanted me to do anything necessary to obtain any information Josie had regarding Claire.”

  Gabriel flinched. “I did say that. And I suppose now that you are…you are physically connected, there will be increased opportunity to press for that information. But, Evan, I never thought you would go so far in seduction! To take her like this? This is our sister’s best friend. This is a lady. This is…this is wrong.”

  Evan stepped away, not able to look at his brother and see such horror on his face. Gabriel was only voicing every thought in his own head. He was just as torn as his younger brother, only over slightly different reasons. While Gabriel was caught between the wrongness of the act and the potential for gain, all Evan could think about was how he had stolen something precious from Josie. But how he wanted so desperately to do it again. And again. And again. Until she was his in every sense of the word.

  Gabriel wouldn’t understand that. Hell, Evan hardly did.

  “What are you going to do?” Gabriel asked.

  Evan let out a long sigh. “Well, there is only one thing a man can do in such a situation, isn’t there? Even if the lady resists.”

  Gabriel drew back. “You don’t mean…”

  “Yes. I intend to marry her.” He thought of Josie’s hurt, her refusal, just a short time ago. “One way or another, Jocelyn Westfall will be my bride.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Josie sat at her mirror, staring at her face in the reflection. She didn’t look different. It seemed like she should after such a life-altering event as last night. But she didn’t.

  With a sigh, she stood and paced away from her reflection and all the things she didn’t want to see.

  “How can you be so confused when you actually got everything you ever wanted?” she asked the open window and the breeze that took her words away into the world.

  Except what she said wasn’t exactly true, was it? She had managed to convince Evan to take her at last, but afterward everything between them had been so complicated. So charged and changed. Evan had looked at her, but it was no longer the same. Now she was a burden he had to carry, a point of honor he had to see through even though he didn’t want to do so.

  How she hated that.

  There was a light knock on her door and she turned with a false smile. “Yes?”

  When the door opened, it was her mother standing there. Josie braced herself for whatever was to come. “Good morning, Mama.”

  “Good morning,” her mother replied cautiously. “You do not look like you
slept well.”

  Josie frowned. “Of course I did,” she lied.

  Mrs. Westfall let out a sigh. “Do you want to talk to me about something, Jocelyn?”

  Josie’s lips pursed. If her mother was calling her by her given name, she must be concerned, indeed.

  “What do you think I have to talk about?” she asked, hoping her tone sounded light instead of shrill.

  “At the ball last night—”

  Josie turned away. “I’d rather not discuss it.”

  Mrs. Westfall stepped closer. “Yes, so you have said ever since the moment we left, and I gave you your space, but now I must demand that you talk to me.”

  Josie shook her head and looked at her mother again in confusion. “Why?”

  Mrs. Westfall let out a long, heavy breath. “I know you think of me as the enemy because I push you toward a future that frightens you. But you must know I do it out of love.”

  At her mother’s sad tone and hurt expression, Josie leapt forward. “No, Mama, I don’t see you as the enemy at all.”

  Mrs. Westfall frowned. “I wasn’t ever an outcast, nor were your sisters.”

  Josie pinched her lips together, some of her desire to sooth hurt feelings fading. “Yes, I know. I am a disappointment. We have had this discussion so many times.”

  “No, that isn’t what I meant,” Mrs. Westfall said with a shake of her head. “What I meant to say was that I didn’t know what to do when you were teased. And until last night when Evan defended you in front of the assembled throng, I don’t think I fully realized how deeply you were hurt and how completely you were sometimes isolated.” She moved forward and took her hand. “I should have come to your rescue, I think, as he did. And I’m sorry.”

  Josie bent her head. There had been times she wished someone would ride in like a hero and protect her. And hearing this heartfelt apology meant so much to her.

  “Mama, it wouldn’t have changed anything,” she said softly. “Claire defended me many times and the worst of the tormenters continued on, just not in her presence. It would have been the same with you. As for Evan…”