Tempted by His Touch: A Limited Edition Boxed Set of Dukes, Rogues, & Alpha Heroes Historical Romance Novels

by Darcy Burke

  He grasped her left hand in his, running his thumb across the gold on her ring finger. “I thought you pawned this.”

  “I did. Jasper Finn found it and gave it back to me.”

  “That’s…odd.” He stretched her hand out in the light, surveying the ring.

  “Finn wanted to test my reaction to it. I was going to pawn it again—even went to a fellow fence in St. Giles that day we met with Atlas.” She leaned in to him, right hand still on his shoulder. “This ring was part of your family and knowing what you’ve struggled against, I just…I couldn’t bear to part with it.”

  His eyes glistened with hope, but his expression remained cautious. “What exactly are you saying, Kate? Do you want to be with me?”

  She smiled, a wider, happier smile than she could remember in a long time. Sitting here so close to him, his hand on hers and their shoulders touching, she couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else.

  “If you’ll still have me, I want to fight by your side. And when the day comes that Finn rots in Newgate like he should have all along, I want to start a new life with you. I bloody love you, Daniel, and I always have.”

  ***

  He opened and shut his eyes. Surely, he must be asleep, for he could not be this lucky. Not him, who a few hours ago had been so certain he’d never see her again.

  But he felt her hands on his shoulders, the pressure of her fingers as she dug into the knots of tension. Her bottom lip quivered. He saw her dark eyes brimming with hope—hope and a little fear—and he knew this was real.

  He leaned into her touch, angled his forehead against hers. Her cold skin met the fire burning in his limbs. His pulse pounded in his ears. Desire raced through him like a runaway phaeton. He held her gaze as the most wonderful of emotions stirred with him, that of acceptance and appreciation and all the rest that came with being held in her esteem.

  Concern flickered across her face. So lost was he in what it was to be near her, he’d forgotten to speak.

  “Do you still love me?” Kate’s voice was soft, devoid of her usual bluster. “Will you forgive me for not believing you?”

  “Katiebelle, I’ve never stopped loving you. Every day that has passed, I’ve wanted you in my life.” He pulled back from her enough to tuck her hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing against her creamy cheek.

  So smooth, so delicate was her skin, yet she was the toughest woman he’d ever known. She loved with a dogmatic determination and a need to protect those she held dear. He hadn’t earned her trust before but he’d earn it now, if doing so took his last breath.

  Previously, he’d thought her his salvation. Now he knew he needed to save himself.

  “You get a broken man,” he murmured. “A man who has done wretched things, but a man who wants desperately to be something worthy of your love. Can you handle that?”

  “You get a stubborn woman. A woman who told herself she didn’t need anyone else to survive, but now realizes she’s better off with a broken man to heal her hurt. Can you handle that?” She took his hand in hers and pressed it against her lips, the calluses on his fingers against her tender lips.

  “Absolutely,” he murmured.

  From the moment she’d set foot in the room he’d been hard. She’d be his undoing, with her devious pink tongue darting along the tip of his forefinger. He groaned, unable to hold back any longer.

  His lips came down upon hers. Mouth to mouth in furious rhythm, the taste of her lips better than any bottle of Lady’s Delight.

  “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he gasped in between kisses, reluctant to part from her for more than a moment. Yet it was necessary to let her know, to repeat the words in litany because they’d been caged within him for what felt like an eternity. He was free with her. His heart soared so high he believed it to have fled from his body entirely.

  “I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you. If I’d been less stubborn—” She tore from him to look him in the eye.

  Silencing her with another kiss, he relished the feel of her lips hot upon his, the tangle as their tongues met and played within their joined mouths. “I like you stubborn,” he said, undoing the first few closures of her gown. “It keeps me on my toes.”

  Her head fell back in a full-bodied, throaty laugh. “God forbid we let you slip. Shall I pick a fight with you whenever you feel too complacent?”

  “Yes.” He was mesmerized by the rise and fall of her chest with each erratic breath, the imperial line of her neck.

  “What shall we fight about? I don’t like the new Forsyth.” She leaned back against his hold, granting him easier access to her neck.

  “I quite like them.” He found the pressure point at her neck, nibbling on it.

  “But the mechanism—” She gave up mid-way, her speech descending into a breathy moan.

  “Dreadful mechanism.” He grinned against her skin. His tongue darted out against the hollow where her neck met her shoulders. Her smell filled his nose, blessed jasmine and black pepper. She was supple in his hands, so achingly perfect that for a second he could not believe she was real.

  He pulled back to look at her, at her kiss-swollen red lips, flushed cheeks, and disordered chignon. Undeniably his Kate. His hands tangled in her dewy hair, plucking pin after pin. He barely heard the clink as the metal hit the floor. She shook her head, her silken curls tumbling down her shoulders wantonly. A groan tore from his throat. He was so awed by the wild goddess in front of him, this woman who had beaten the odds and survived the rookeries only to find him again.

  Huddled against him, her dress fell around her shoulders, half-opened to him. Her breasts strained against the fabric, her pert nipples pebbled. The blanket had slipped completely from her shoulders and lay in a lump on the bed.

  Four buttons on the back of her dress kept her from him, four devious buttons that when undone would give him the greatest joy imaginable. He undid the closures in record time, hands shaking but determined. The pink dress pooled in her lap. He helped her wiggle free from the mountains of fabric and settled her across his lap. Her bare legs peeked out from beneath her chemise and drawers, the sight of that milky skin enough to make his mouth water.

  “Touch me,” she whispered, her smoldering gaze holding his.

  He didn’t need further encouragement. His fingers slid against the smooth skin of her legs, up to the hem of her drawers. Grasping the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, he scooted it down her legs. He placed a kiss to each bit of skin revealed, drunk off the taste of her.

  By his bedside table, the candle began to flicker. He undid the first lace of her stays before she stopped his hand, her gaze burning with such heat that the room felt ten degrees hotter.

  “Light the candle again. I want to see you as you come inside me,” she said huskily.

  As if her bawdy words weren’t enough to send him reeling, her lips curled into a little smirk. Desire shot through him, his breeches uncomfortably tight.

  “Christ,” he cursed, close to the edge already without even getting to touch her completely naked skin.

  With her still in his lap, he fumbled in the drawer for a match. He shifted through several scraps of parchment and three lead bullets before he finally found one.

  Once the candle was lit, he sat back for a second to look at her in the new light. “So beautiful.” He planted a kiss on her neck, under her ear. She squirmed in his lap as his tongue shot out to lick the delicate bottom of her lobe. He nibbled on the base, each shift of her body against his erection sharpening his bliss.

  Her hands spread flat across the expanse of his stomach. Daringly, she kept going to the fall of his breeches, working open the clasp and freeing his shaft. He breathed a sigh of relief, but his breath was quickly stolen by her attentions.

  One hand placed over the other, she worked him up and down. She knew the exact rhythm that would crest him quickly. He was both overjoyed she remembered the rhythm of their bodies and shamed that he might fade too fast.

&n
bsp; ***

  This felt right, the slide his solid shaft in her hands, the way his eyes rolled back in ecstasy and his breathing became ragged with every stroke. Kate surveyed him from her perch in his lap. His sinewy chest muscles strained, raw power held within him. Her body thrummed, alive from the feel of him, awake to his every gasp.

  “Love, if you continue, there’s not much chance we can turn back,” he moaned.

  “I don’t want to turn back.” She pumped him again, grinning wickedly. She never wanted to leave him.

  He stilled her hands. He made quick work of her chemise and stays, flinging them off the side of the bed. She helped him from his breeches. Pushing her down on the bed, he climbed on top of her, settling in between her thighs.

  “My wild Kate.” He kissed her again, playing in her mouth, stirring the basest longings within her core.

  “Let me show you how wild I am.” She grasped his wrists, rolling them over so that she was on top. She moved to straddle him, leaning forward so that her breasts fell close to him and then pulling back when he went to grasp a pebbled nipple in his mouth. Repeating the process, she stretched out, basking in the feel of being in control above him.

  He grabbed hold of her waist and yanked her forward. Suckling on her nipple, he massaged her other breast with firm, circular movements. He knew every curve of her body better even than she, as though she had been created for him and him alone. In that instant, with his lips wrapped around her breast, tongue teasing the firm tip of her nipple, she didn’t doubt that she had been.

  He was everywhere at once. His hand dipped into the juncture between her thighs, tangled into her coarse curls. He came close to her center, never touching her where she needed it most, taunting her with his nearness. She let out a frustrated moan.

  He chastised her with a nip to her breast. “All in due time, Katiebelle,” he grinned.

  She was on top; she was in control. Bracing herself against his shoulders, she held herself aloft from him, beyond his mouth. Two could play at this game, and she was quite certain she could win.

  Until he reached up and tugged her down, his arms wrapping around her back in a strong grip. Suddenly, she didn’t want to be freed from him, but instead to fall against his muscular body, to feel the warmth of his skin against hers.

  She remembered that this was close to how it had been before. Before she had known only a part of him, what he chose to show to her. In this present moment she knew it all, every damn broken piece of him that added up into a wonderful whole, and that made each touch more potent.

  She placed a kiss on his shoulder, licking his hard muscle. He shuddered, her hot breath against even hotter skin as he released his hold on her. He pulled up his knees, so that she lay cradled in his lap. Sitting in this position, angled with her rear against his erection, she was utterly on display for him. She felt no shame, for she was long past the world that would have condemned her for sex outside of the strictures of marriage. She had become something different entirely.

  He let out a strangled moan as she leaned back, his eyes widening as he scanned her naked frame. “You’re enough to kill a man.”

  “But it’d be a valiant death, don’t you think?” She grabbed for his hand, guiding him where she wanted him most.

  He was quick to comply, thumb finding her bud and rubbing against her. From her position, she could see everything he did, see her own folds spread out for his ministrations. She gulped down a breath of air, for his fingers rubbed so softly against her clitoris she thought she might die from the torture of it, stroke by stroke toward a distant pinnacle that could not be reached.

  “Faster,” she pleaded, no longer concerned with who held the control as long as he continued touching her. He complied, thumb rubbing against her center in time with the flick of his forefinger. The pressure built within her steadily, and she was primed and ready, like a lead bullet wrapped in a cloth.

  “Is this what you want?” He inserted a finger inside of her, the rod to her gun, his thumb still at work on her as any good trigger finger would do.

  She whimpered in reply, the loudness of her own pleasure-soaked voice surprising her.

  “That’s good, moan for me,” he urged, continuing with his wicked strokes. “I like to know that I’ve pleased you.”

  Her body lifted up as he set a blazing rhythm, taking her so close to the edge. “So good,” she gasped, as the sensations grew.

  “I need you,” she said, for if she didn’t have him in that instant she’d come without him and she wanted him deep inside her. She felt no mortification at the admission, only love for him. Together they’d become something greater. Their affection would strengthen them.

  “Then have me.” He released her so she could scoot back.

  Lingering with the tip of him brushing against her entrance would drive her mad. With one hand, she guided him all the way into her. He slid in slowly, stretching her in the most exquisite torment.

  “Oh, Daniel,” she breathed as he withdrew and plunged deep into her. He filled her to the brim.

  In all the times they’d been together, she’d never felt so at peace and aroused all in one. His hands fell to her waist and he helped her to push back and forth, finding a rhythm that would send them both reeling. Each thrust stirred the fire within her.

  “I’ll be everything you need, Katiebelle.” He stilled within her, fingertips digging into her shoulders.

  “You already are.” She met his lips in a fiery kiss, echoing the surge and fall of his thrusts with her tongue. Quicker he thrust, erratic as he pumped everything he had into taking her higher.

  For the second time she felt that building pressure within her, as he took her up and then held off to lengthen the climax. This rhythm went on until she knew he’d squeezed the trigger in her gun. The bullet shot forward and she was exploding in pieces around him. A second later he joined her, pulling out at the last moment.

  “That was amazing,” he said a moment later better, head back against his pillow.

  They lay languidly together under the covers, her head on his chest once more and his fingers stroking idly up her arm. The only sound became the quiet of their breathing, gently lulling her to sleep.

  In his arms, she knew exactly where she was supposed to be. The rest—the peril and the conflict—they’d figure out together.

  ***

  The morning was as gray and cloudy as the night prior. Rain splattered down from the crack in the window, a steady throb that would make traveling difficult. The roads would be slick, the horses’s hooves stuck with mud. None of that mattered to Daniel when he awoke the next morning with Kate next to him. She fit into the curve of his side as a matching piece to his puzzle, her brown hair splashed across his outstretched arm.

  His hand cupped her breast, finding that soft spot instinctively as he slept. He could move his hand, but in a fit of wickedness, he lingered and enjoyed the suppleness of her flesh. She stirred, glancing down at his hand.

  She arched a brow. “Already lustful, I see. Was I not enough for you last night?”

  He chuckled at her teasing and readjusted so that she was against him. Lowering his head, he stole a kiss from her that silenced any doubts she might have had about his satisfaction. She bore his mark where her collarbone joined with her neck, if he needed a further reminder that last night had truly happened.

  I love you, Daniel, and I always have.

  He rested his weight on his elbows, leaning over to properly survey her. He wanted to commit this new version of her, well-sated and hopeful, to his memory. When they had been together before, their mornings had been scarce, for he’d had to flee from her chambers before her father awoke.

  Her cheeks flushed under the weight of his gaze, a pleasant pink that he’d missed so much. She sighed, yet for the first time since he’d been back she sounded content.

  “Good morning,” he said, remembering the very words he’d said to her a few days prior.

  This time, she met his gr
eeting with a private smile, brushing a fallen lock of hair out of his eye. “Good morning.”

  “I wish I could offer you a proper repast, but I didn’t think to restock before.” He didn’t say that he’d thought only of bashing out his brains on the gin. It hung in the air, recognized but no longer needed.

  Kate stretched, wiggling her toes underneath the blanket. “I’ll go out and fetch some food.” She intertwined her fingers in his. “Later.”

  He brought their joined hands to his lips, caressing her knuckle. He’d lie here forever, basking in the joy of being with her, but that was optimism they could not yet grasp. If they were to have the endless nights he dreamed of, he had to protect her now.

  Releasing her hand, Daniel sat up. She reached to stop him from rising from the bed, but he slipped from her grip.

  “Must we return to reality?” Her voice was muffled by the pillow, for she had turned on her side.

  “I fear so.” He stepped into his breeches.

  Her dress lay in a heap on the floor, while her stays were flung haphazardly onto the tea cabinet. The chemise was harder to find, thrust between the headboard of the bed and the wall. He collected each and deposited them in front of her.

  He pulled his white cotton shirt over his head, sneaking a glance at her as she did up her stays. She crossed the laces over the eyelets and then brought them together in a bow in the front, then did up the back hitch in a similar manner. He took a seat on the bed next to her, pushing her hair off her back so he could see the closures. He doubted she needed his help, yet it made him feel useful.

  “Perhaps someday we’ll be rich enough that you can have a lady’s maid again.”

  “I quite like the independence.” She batted his hand away from the back of her dress, doing up the last fastener on her own. “Besides, if I wish to lie around in my chemise all day, I can without feeling as though I am on display. For anyone other than you, that is.”