Moonwitch

by Nicole Jordan

  His movements, surprisingly, were as gentle as the waves as he scooped up a large handful to let it spill over her hair and shoulders. The warm salt water ran between her breasts, soaking the thin gauze covering once again, outlining shapely peaks that were high and firm, fuller than her wraithlike slenderness indicated. When his gaze dropped to her breasts, Selena quelled the instinctive urge to cover them. She felt indecently exposed without a corset and could feel her nipples growing tight and puckered, whether due to the breeze blowing off the sea or to Kyle Ramsey’s warm regard, she wasn’t sure.

  “Now your turn,” he murmured when he finished his ministrations. His voice was suddenly husky, as warm and sensuous as the water he poured over her.

  Realizing that he wanted her to reciprocate, Selena hesitantly complied, stretching to reach him because he was so tall. Yet as she bathed him, rinsing the sand from the sleek muscles of his arms and shoulders, she found herself staring in fascination at the dark sprinkling of hair that covered his broad, bare chest. The slight furring narrowed as it reached his flat abdomen and dipped below the waistband of his breeches—

  “You act as if you’re afraid to touch me.”

  His observation brought color rushing to Selena’s cheeks. She was afraid to touch his powerful bronzed body, yet she was also determined not to let Kyle Ramsey know it. “Of course not, Captain,” she said more breathlessly than she intended. Bracing herself, she dribbled a thin stream of seawater on his chest and reached out to brush the resultant droplets away, stroking him quite deliberately. The feel of him was just as masculine as she expected it to be, iron-hard flesh and sinews beneath damp, silky skin. But she didn’t expect him to capture her slender fingers and imprison them against his naked chest.

  Startled, she looked up to find Kyle watching her, a smoldering golden glow in his eyes. “Come closer,” he commanded softly.

  Assailed by that same queer breathlessness, Selena obeyed, taking a single step toward him to close the distance. When Kyle slowly slipped an arm around her narrow waist, she found herself pressed against the full length of his big, splendid body, feeling his hard male contours, his heat.

  He was still watching her intently as he reached up with his free hand to smooth a wet tress back from her face. “Lord, you’re beautiful in the moonlight.” His thumb drifted lightly over her cheekbone, then moved to her lips and, with gentle pressure, urged them open.

  She quivered.

  He bent his head.

  His mouth was just as warm and exciting as she remembered, and just as devastating. As his tongue probed for entrance, she opened fully to him, wanting his kiss, his possession.

  She was hardly aware that his large hand was gliding upward over the filmy gauze of her nightdress, until she felt his fingers curl around her breast, cupping the swelling fullness. The resultant wave of heat shocked her; it raced through her body to settle as a throbbing ache somewhere between her thighs, in the very core of her womanhood.

  “Captain—” Selena gasped in halfhearted protest.

  “Call me Kyle,” he breathed against her lips. “And I’ll call you Seawitch.”

  She could feel his deep voice vibrating through her body, just like the fierce need he was arousing in her. Involuntarily, her hands crept up the broad plain of his chest and curled around his neck.

  He tasted her, dallying over the silky softness of her face while his thumb rubbed her nipple seductively, circling and teasing. The erect tip tightened unbearably under his light touch, while heat flared between her quivering thighs. When his long, blunt-tipped fingers closed over her nipple, plucking at the tight bud, Selena arched against him, her hands reaching up of their own accord to bury themselves in the thick dampness of his hair.

  He stroked and caressed the aching peak, and by the time he had lavished the same erotic attentions on her other breast, Selena’s fingers were clenched in his hair. Kyle drew back slightly then, and she was surprised to realize he had managed to unfasten the buttons at the throat of her nightdress. When he deftly slid the bodice down over her shoulders to expose her pale breasts, Selena shivered, not from the breeze that was caressing her damp flesh, but from the hot lover’s gaze that was traveling the length of her.

  She heard his quick intake of breath as his eyes fastened hungrily on her naked beauty, heard him mutter some unintelligible exclamation as he drew her against him again, and she braced herself for another shattering kiss. Yet he didn’t kiss her. Instead, he bent to take her right nipple boldly into his mouth.

  Selena couldn’t stifle a gasp. That was what he had meant earlier, about the sand, she realized. But she hadn’t imagined anything like this. He was suckling her breast, tormenting the nipple with his lips, massaging it in shuddering waves with his tongue. His possessive mouth created an incredible pleasure within her, making her feel weak and thoroughly helpless. Her legs were trembling, as if they might buckle beneath her, and when his searing lips moved to claim her other breast, she had to grip Kyle’s shoulders to support herself.

  It wasn’t long before a whimper escaped her. Kyle raised his head and smiled in satisfaction. “I can accept impatience,” he said, his teeth gleaming in the faint light, “as long as I’m the one you’re impatient for.” When Selena stared dazedly at him, he drew a languid circle around her nipple with one finger. “Are you impatient for me, Seawitch?”

  “Yes.” The husky reply seemed to be dredged from her throat. Yet it must have been what Kyle wanted to hear, for he chuckled as he stooped to catch her up in his arms and carry her to the shore. Embarrassingly aware that she had spoken no more than the truth, Selena felt her cheeks flood with color. She shut her eyes as he strode with her a few paces up the beach and kept them shut as he laid her down gently and stretched out beside her, his weight supported on one elbow.

  He paused for a moment to survey Selena: her pale skin gleaming in the moonlight, her silver tresses spilling over her shoulders to accentuate the soft rise and fall of her breasts.

  “No, not a Seawitch,” Kyle murmured, pushing a silken strand of hair back from her face. “A Moonwitch.” Then he bent and captured her lips again, while he moulded her breasts in his palms.

  His hands were large and callused, vital and strong with life. As they gently stroked her, Selena stirred restlessly. The sand beneath her was heated, still warm from the Caribbean sun, but it was cool compared to the heat rising within her with each brush of Kyle’s fingertips. In a moment, they were moving over the rest of her body, caressing, arousing, slipping beneath the hem of her nightdress to glide up a shapely thigh and search out the center of her womanhood.

  Selena stiffened when she felt his hand between her thighs, then shuddered as his sensual fingers began exploring the yielding, warm folds of her flesh with sure mastery. Never would she have suspected that a man’s hand on that part of her body could give her such fierce pleasure or that she would respond so brazenly. Her hips were moving of their own accord, as if an ancient, primitive force were controlling her, driving her on. She wasn’t frightened, either, as perhaps she should have been when she felt his flagrant, rigid arousal pressing against her thigh, restrained only by the damp canvas fabric of his breeches. Instead, she arched against his hard, powerfully muscled body, hardly realizing that the soft whimpers she heard were coming from her own throat.

  His own voice was none too steady when he broke off his kiss to whisper, “Who would have guessed you had such fire in you?”

  As he unfastened his breeches and freed his rigid hardness, Selena opened passion-dazed eyes to stare at him. His rugged face was taut with desire, and she had the impression he was forcing himself to go slowly.

  His hands were urgent but gentle still as they slid under the soft, full curves of her bottom and lifted her to meet him. “I don’t know if…Moonwitch…it’s been too long.”

  She had some idea what to expect and so braced herself against the invasion of her flesh. Yet she couldn’t prevent a soft gasp as his maleness slowly began to fill
her.

  “Damn, but you’re tight. You can’t have done this often.”

  Kyle’s ragged voice sounding so close in her ear startled her. Afraid that he might withdraw if he realized her innocence, she thrust her hips forward and at the same time slid her hands down his sinewed back to grasp his taut buttocks and pull him closer, then turned her face away to hide the pain that she knew had crossed her features.

  She heard him grunt in surprise as she took him deeper. “Easy, lady,” he rasped. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Please… don’t stop.”

  “I couldn’t…stop if I wanted to.”

  Those hoarse words were the last he spoke for a long time as he buried himself fully in her silken warmth, intent on giving pleasure as well as taking.

  His movements were slow and controlled, as if he were forcibly restraining his great might, and Selena’s pain gave way to a burning, aching need. He was incredibly tender for so large and rugged a man, she thought, feverishly running her hands over the flexing muscles of his back.

  But it had been a long time since Kyle had made love to a woman. And the slender, writhing creature beneath him bore no resemblance to the cool, remote lady he had taken advantage of earlier. He felt his control snapping, like silken threads under too much strain.

  His breath quickened against her throat as he surrendered to a primitive, powerful need. He drove into her more forcefully, more deeply, though still his instinctive care for the weaker sex kept him from being as rough as he might. In a moment his great body stiffened, then contracted, pouring into her with tremendous pulsing spasms.

  As he collapsed on her, bathed in perspiration, panting, the hot, spiraling world that had caught Selena in its grip slowly faded, leaving her unsatisfied and unfulfilled. Her position was extremely uncomfortable, trapped as she was beneath Kyle’s sleek, heavy body. Squirming, she wedged her hands against his powerful shoulders to keep him from crushing her further.

  Weakly, Kyle pushed himself up on his elbows. “I’m sorry, Moonwitch,” he said hoarsely. “It was too fast for you. I’ll make it better next time, I promise.”

  “No.”

  He found her lips again and kissed her with repentant tenderness before Selena managed to turn her head away. “I said no. Once was quite enough.”

  Drawing back, Kyle peered down at her with a frown, trying to read the quicksilver light in her eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

  Selena hesitated, considering his question. Her body was limp and aching and still throbbing with a strange sort of tension. But she had asked Captain Ramsey to make love to her, after all. And he had granted her request—quite thoroughly. At least thoroughly enough to prevent her wanting to repeat the experience. “No, Captain,” she dissembled. “You didn’t hurt me. Now, will you please let me up? I should like to breathe again.”

  For a moment she thought he might not comply, for he was studying her intently, his heavy brows drawn together in puzzlement. But then he untangled his body from hers and rolled off her, rising to his feet with the easy grace of a practiced athlete as he adjusted his breeches.

  Selena rose more slowly, cautiously testing her weak legs to ensure they could support her weight. Acutely embarrassed now by what she had done, she avoided looking at Kyle as she fastened the buttons at her bodice with shaking hands.

  “I will pay you in the morning,” she murmured, brushing at the damp skirt of her nightdress, trying to wipe off the sand.

  “Keep your money, Miss Markham. It was worth it.” His tone sounded dry and somewhat biting as he came up behind her. “Besides,” he breathed in her ear, “I haven’t yet finished.”

  Somewhat nervously, Selena looked around for her horse. But then Kyle bent to lift her into his arms, and she suddenly found herself clutching desperately at the corded muscles of his shoulders as he cradled her against his naked chest. “What are you doing?” she gasped.

  “What I should have done from the first. Take you to bed.”

  She struggled without success. “Put me down! I demand you release me!”

  “Uh-uh. I don’t like to leave a woman unsatisfied. I have my pride to think about, after all.”

  Selena glared up at him as he strode determinedly along the beach, noting that the slashing dimples had again creased the hard planes of his cheeks. He was finding this amusing! “Captain—” she began with strained patience.

  “I told you to call me Kyle.”

  “Kyle, then. I have no intention of going to bed with you.”

  “Then we’ll talk. I’m just the least bit curious why you were trying to drown yourself.”

  “I was not trying to drown myself! I was merely going for a swim.”

  “Sure. And I’m a mermaid.”

  Selena clenched her teeth. When she saw an imperial row of palms illuminated by moonlight, she realized he was taking her to the Five Islands plantation house. The captain carried her up a flight of steps and across a wide veranda into the house before setting Selena on her feet. She heard the clink of a glass chimney as he lighted a lamp, and when the flame flared to life, she could tell from the book-lined shelves and comfortable leather chairs that she was in the library.

  But it was Kyle Ramsey who claimed her attention. She watched as he picked up a brandy decanter from a side table and poured a large measure into a snifter. He seemed not to mind that he was almost naked in the presence of a lady who was also less than fully dressed, but Selena was very much aware of it. Indeed, his towering, muscular grace was rather intimidating, and when he advanced on her, holding the glass, she found it hard not to shrink from him.

  He offered her the brandy, but she shook her head. “Thank you, no. I don’t indulge in spirits.”

  Kyle’s mouth quirked at the corner, deepening his right dimple. “Drink it. It’ll do you more good than the lime juice and water you ladies find so appealing.”

  When he stood there waiting, looking as if he wouldn’t countenance her refusal, she accepted the glass and took a small swallow, nearly choking as the fiery liquid burned her tongue and throat.

  “Now,” Kyle said casually, “why don’t you tell me what you were doing, charging into the sea like that? It didn’t seem to me that you were intent on a moonlight swim.”

  Selena searched his face, reading only concern in his hazel eyes. “Perhaps I wasn’t thinking very clearly, but I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I was merely upset.”

  “Want to talk about it? I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

  Oddly, she thought he might be right. He looked as if he might sympathize with her. But it wasn’t something she could share with a stranger, even if she was in the habit of bearing tales.

  “Thank you, Captain,” Selena said, turning away to avoid his penetrating gaze, “but I am quite all right now. Truly. And I should return home. Someone may wonder where I’ve gone.”

  “God Almighty.” The oath was breathed slowly, in a low tone. A large hand clamped down on Selena’s arm and spun her around to face him.

  Kyle’s face was incredulous. “You were a virgin!”

  Selena winced at the fierce accusation in his tone and the pressure of his grip. She returned his gaze mutely, wondering how he had known.

  “There’s blood on your nightdress,” he ground out, answering her unspoken question. “Sweet heaven! That was why you were so—” He broke off then to eye her narrowly. “I think you’d better start explaining, Miss Markham.”

  Selena searched for a plausible reason. “Perhaps I cut myself, Captain—”

  “Like hell you did!”

  Selena swallowed hard. Kyle Ramsey might be an unrefined American; he might swagger and curse like a common sailor. But he was deceptively quick. She wouldn’t be able to fool him with some halfhearted lie. Yet she couldn’t tell him the truth. “Please,” she said, stalling for time, “you are hurting my arm.”

  Kyle gave vent to a muttered oath, but he released her to stalk over to the brandy decanter. He poured himself a very gene
rous amount as he grappled with the dilemma Selena Markham had presented him. If she wasn’t so anxious to leave, he would have suspected a ploy to snare him as a husband. It wouldn’t be the first time a lovely young innocent had insinuated herself into a man’s bed with marriage as her object. But if rumor could be believed, Selena Markham was already betrothed.

  Kyle shot her an unfriendly glance. “Lady, I don’t know what your game is, but I don’t much like it.”

  “I…” Selena took a deep breath, and, for one of the few times in her life, told a deliberate lie. “I wanted to learn about love.”

  “So you gave yourself to a stranger?”

  Flushing at his disbelieving tone, she stared down at her bare feet.

  “You’re engaged to be married, aren’t you? Why didn’t you ask your betrothed to initiate you?”

  “I… my reasons are my own, Captain. I don’t think I am obliged to share them with you.”

  Kyle gave her a long, assessing look. How did she manage to look so cool and remote after losing her virtue to a man she had only met that afternoon? “What’s your betrothed’s name? Warner? I suppose now he’ll be challenging me to pistols at dawn.”

  Selena lifted her gaze to his. “I don’t intend to tell him,” she said quietly. “And I would appreciate it if you would refrain from mentioning what happened tonight, as well.”

  “You can bet your sweet life I won’t mention it! I’m not that much of a fool.”

  She stood there, silent. Kyle ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture of frustration. “Blast it, I don’t have any experience deflowering virgins, or I would have realized at the time—”

  “Please…I don’t hold you responsible. You merely did what I asked.”

  Glaring at her, Kyle took a deep swig of liquor. He didn’t need this kind of trouble. He could have—and now it looked as if he should have—availed himself of any of a dozen willing females in St. John’s, but oddly, after kissing Selena Markham that afternoon, he hadn’t quite felt in the mood for the full-blown temptresses he usually favored. He had chosen instead to sober up from his afternoon revelries in solitude. And then Selena Markham had shown up, sobbing and looking like some wild wraith in the moonlight. And what had begun as an attempt at a rescue wound up as a seduction. His.