The Bride Who Got Lucky

by Janna MacGregor

  Every tear and sob she’d shed had lanced straight through his well-guarded reserve. When he couldn’t take seeing her pain anymore, he’d reached for her at Sykeston’s. Of course, with Mary Butler next to Emma, the only thing he could offer was a touch, a simple squeeze. The overwhelming urge to sweep her in his arms and carry her far away from that agony drove every prudent thought away.

  When they reached the shore later, she’d been breathtakingly beautiful in her grief. When she’d kissed him, all his masterful evasion of anything unlocking his well-guarded heart had sailed out to sea. Since they’d returned to the inn, his erect cock had mutinied, ready to battle alongside his heart to thwart his best intentions.

  He’d wanted her last night, and tonight … he wanted her more.

  Damnation, if he was truthful with himself, he’d wanted her since he’d intercepted her carriage three years ago.

  Awed by her, Nick doubted his sanity. His feelings for Emma were deepening. It wasn’t lust. That could be satisfied. What she offered triggered an insatiable hunger. Indeed, her passion for life—all of it—happiness and sadness, overwhelmed him.

  For the first time in years, he was circling around a desire that could devour him, and he wanted it. At least, a taste of it. Perhaps then, he’d be able to return home satisfied without any regrets.

  Whatever magic she cast over him was deepening to a point he feared he was losing his control. God, for once, to let loose and unhinge the rules he’d bound himself to—his mind grappled with the promise of the liberation that awaited.

  He stood and grabbed the neatly folded linen toweling Emma hadn’t needed. With a deft hand, he dried his torso and left the remaining trails of water to slide down his arms and legs. He tied the sheet around his waist and stepped out of the cooling water.

  The bedroom door stood open.

  Emma reclined against one doorpost. Without any enticement or seduction in her regard, she studied him. Unused to such a direct examination, he felt a prickling heat slide up his neck. The wet toweling did little to hide his swelling arousal.

  “You’re wrong,” she whispered.

  How long had she studied him while he bathed? He’d received his share of seductive looks thrown hither by mistresses looking for a new benefactor, women desperate for marriage, and merry widows hungry for companionship. Yet, he’d never had a woman look at him like that before. Calm and collected, she observed him without a hint of shyness or unease, more importantly, without any titillating looks of promised pleasure.

  With her lips parted and her hair trailing across her chest in gold waves of sunshine, she reminded him of innocence matured by the reality of life. He’d seen that look on her before at Goodwin’s, but hadn’t recognized it until now.

  “Wrong about what?” He didn’t want to frighten her, but his need for her pounded through him, bringing forth a desire he wasn’t certain he could battle anymore.

  “Last night, I said you were beautiful, and your answer was ‘I beg to differ.’” Her eyes never left his. “I’ve seen every inch of you. You are beautiful.”

  He closed the distance between them. He inhaled the sweet scent of rosewater and her extraordinary fragrance that beckoned him closer. She stood still, her eyes wide, studying him without fear. He braced his arm across the door and leaned close.

  As if she called to him, he brushed his knuckles over the smooth softness of her cheeks. Tonight he’d not forgo the opportunity to drink of her goodness, nor would he deny himself the taste of her glorious passion. It was a night made to feast and celebrate the marvel of her.

  “Let me see your hand.”

  She gave it to him, and he saw that the angry bruise of last night had started to fade into a purple and green collar around her wrist. Gently, he brought the inside of her delicate skin to his mouth and reverently pressed his lips against her pulse. It jumped with a rapid fire, signaling his touch affected her.

  Satisfaction exploded into a primordial need for her.

  But she turned away.

  “Look at me.” He took her chin in hand and forced her gaze to his. The candlelight enhanced her beauty and the vulnerability in her eyes.

  She took a deep breath, and the movement caused her nipples to press against the thin silk dressing gown. His gaze slid down her body, appreciating the full curves of her feminine beauty.

  Her eyes darkened to emerald pools.

  In response, every muscle in his body tightened ready to claim her.

  But then, a tear escaped.

  He closed his eyes and exhaled. If she’d pierced him with a knife, it would have hurt less. His grip grew light, and he slowly drew her in his arms. “It was not my intent to frighten you. I…”

  “I’m frightened … you’ll no longer have a good opinion after what I shared tonight.” Her whisper trailed to silence.

  “Nothing you’ve done would change what I think of you. You’re an incredible woman with an iron will softened by a generous heart.” He drew back so she could see his sincerity.

  She pressed her eyes closed. “I promised myself that your opinion didn’t matter.” Her breath caught. “But I broke that pledge.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nick’s left hand skated up and down her back. With his other hand curled around the nape of her neck, he pulled her tighter into his embrace. His lips captured hers in the sweetest of touches.

  Her efforts to seduce him in London were nothing more than a tactic to free her of his presence, while now she’d give anything to have him. The comfort of his nearness and the gentle caress of his hand soothed, but his scent and the heat from his body made her own pulse with longing.

  His lips followed a path from her throat to her ear. “All I’ve thought about yesterday and today was you. You’re like an itch that’s never satisfied. I may never let you go.”

  She found his lips with hers and ran her tongue lightly in a demand for more. When he complied, a whimper escaped her.

  As if he understood her need, he took her hand and led her to the bed they’d shared last night. His hard thigh brushed against hers, and her whole body melted at the touch. He lowered them to the bed, his arm wrapped around her. This time, she was the one to break the kiss. When his gaze pierced hers, she was lost. The only thing that kept her grounded was the pounding of her heart. The searing heat of his body warmed her, eliminating the chill that had possessed her.

  Her silk dressing gown did little to conceal her body. Without a place to hide, Emma placed her arms around his neck and burrowed deep within his embrace. She tasted his skin as she caressed her lips up and down his jaw.

  He captured her lips again as his arms formed a bracket around her head. He lifted his head and met her gaze. “I never thought you shy, but your body tells me differently. You’ve turned a glorious golden-pink.”

  Emma shivered and pressed closer. This was what she’d wanted from the first time he kissed her, to have him in her arms and in her bed. Now he was hers, and no one would tell her differently.

  He was all sinew and defined muscles. Heaven help her, she was the recipient of all that magnificence. She settled her hand on his chest next to his heart. The strong beat caused her to close her eyes. She was lost. But the promise of something beautifully profound made her not care.

  “Emma.” His voice broke with a huskiness she’d never heard before. “We mustn’t…” With a grimace, he placed his hand over hers.

  “No, please … don’t say anything. Don’t put distance between us.” With her pulse pounding, she needed a moment to reorient herself. But one thing was clear. It would take a team of plow horses to drag her away from his embrace. “After today…” She searched his eyes, and his uncompromising gaze demanded her honesty. “You’re so sure in your path, and … I’m not sure about anything. Please, more than anything, I need you. I need this night.”

  He embraced her so tight she couldn’t breathe. He kissed one side of her mouth before drawing his tongue over the seam of her lips. She opened wit
hout hesitation, and his tongue danced with hers as it explored in a deliberate, unhurried kiss.

  With fingers entwined, he rose above her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He kissed her with a slow innocence as his hand cradled one of her breasts through the silk, his thumb teasing her nipple. Every rational thought escaped as her breasts grew heavy from the attention. She arched her back in a desperate attempt to get closer. He was a sorcerer who had enchanted her body. For once in her life, she had no qualms yielding to a man.

  “How beautiful you are.”

  His words stole her breath, and she released a shuddering sigh. The simple act of responding became impossible. His tender words caused a vortex of fever and longing to collide. Hope and agony mingled to create the alluring promise of something so magnificent it’d change everything she believed.

  He kissed her again, and she was adrift in a beautiful madness as he ravished her with his tongue. He moved to his side with his body in full contact with hers. She whimpered at the loss of his weight.

  Burnished like fine gold, a light covering of chest hair caught her attention. Lower on his abdomen, the hair grew coarser and converged in a line that disappeared below the edge of the toweling. The outline of his erection was clearly visible against the soft linen.

  “Like heaven.” His hand moved to her waist and then crept upward and cupped her breast while he whispered, “I want you.”

  When his arousal pressed against her hip, her body flooded with desire. This feeling of bliss was what she’d asked about last night. Everything she wanted was this moment with him.

  Before she could ask him what she was feeling, he straddled her hips and loomed over her. He tasted the hollow at her throat with his tongue. His lips moved to her shoulder before he concentrated on her chest. She cradled his head as he kissed and sucked the top then the side of her breast through the silk. Finally, he took her nipple in his mouth. The friction of his tongue against the silk drove her to fist his hair and hold him close. “Please.”

  He chuckled. “You want more?”

  All she could manage was a moan.

  She felt him smile against the tender skin of her breast as he stroked his thumb across her nipple. His caresses became a rhythm that caused a magnificent riot of pleasure to race through every inch of her body until it congregated low in her belly.

  But he surprised her when he sucked her nipple, then gently nipped. The alternating sensation proved maddening as pain gave way to unspeakable pleasure. She cried out and bucked for relief from the overpowering sensitivity he created as he repeated the movements over and over. She thought she’d die from her need to crawl inside him.

  She was panting out of her mind when he stopped.

  He looked at her before he kissed her again. He brought his mouth to her ear. His hand gathered the material of her gown and slipped it up her leg in the most excruciating, languid movement. Every inch of her skin screamed for his touch. Finally, the material was above her waist, and his fingers stroked through her nether curls and repeated the pattern.

  Emma tried to position herself so his touch would go deeper.

  “Do you touch yourself here?” He growled low in his throat and lightly traced her ear with his tongue. “Tell me.”

  She waited for the shame to wash over her, but it didn’t. This moment, perfect and intimate between them, made her want to share everything with him. She pressed her center against his hand. “Yes.”

  He stopped moving and rested his forehead on the pillow. With a deep breath, he pushed her hair aside and, this time, caressed her ear with his lips. “How did you learn?”

  She searched his face for any hint of reproach, but there was none. His eyes had deepened to a dark blue. “I-I have the memoires of a French courtesan. She described how she touched herself. One night, I…” Finally, her embarrassment made a late, uninvited appearance. She’d never shared this with anyone either. Only he made her want to tell every secret of her desires.

  His face softened as if he knew the turmoil running amok within her. “There’s nothing wrong with finding pleasure by your own hands. How do you make yourself come?”

  Emma froze. “I don’t know … what that is … what are you asking? If you’re talking about achieving a release, then … no. I’ve never—I like to touch myself when I think certain things, and it feels nice.”

  “What do you think about?” His nose nudged hers as if offering a different kind of kiss.

  His simple caress stole her shame, and the words spilled free.

  “Not what, but who.” She closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath. “I think of you.”

  He lifted his body from hers and rested on his elbows. Their eyes locked, and their chests rose and lowered in unison. The silence between them grew until she felt as if she would go mad. His penetrating gaze pierced hers, and she was afraid she’d revealed too much.

  Completely exposed, she waited for his response—his verdict of her worthiness as a woman. He had no idea how much power he wielded over her, and it was terrifying. She’d never allowed herself to become this vulnerable to a man.

  Then, a glimpse of emotion flashed across his face. With a blink, he tried to hide it, but she sensed his own walls of defense rise to keep her away. Was it wariness? She’d not let him renounce what they were creating tonight.

  Whatever battle he fought, his resistance conceded. His arms surrounded her, every movement slow and measured as if not to frighten her. He kissed her cheek and pushed his lower body against hers, his length hot and hard. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?”

  She shook her head.

  His face grew serious, and he bent his head to his chest as if debating what to do. “I’ll teach you how to find your pleasure.”

  She nodded. He shifted to his side once more. Her breath hitched when his hand caressed her hip, then meandered lower. Propped on one elbow, his eyes darkened dangerously.

  His fingers danced across her skin and stopped when he found her folds. Gently, he pressed his finger against her center.

  She bit her lip to stop from crying out. It took every ounce of strength not to beg him to continue.

  “You’re so precious.” The warm roughness in his endearment enchanted her. “So wet. Where’s your hand? Show me what you like.” He placed his hand on top of hers and moved them both slowly to her center. “Touch yourself.”

  His pupils were huge, and the ring of blue-green in his eyes flashed with passion. She could not have heard him correctly. He brought his mouth to hers again and with his lips touching hers said, “I want to help you find your release.”

  She closed her eyes and moved her hand with his. In a slow and circular motion, she moved first up and down then around the swollen bud before repeating the pattern again. All the while his fingers gently followed hers.

  “So sweet.” He took a deep breath. “Soft.” His large fingers interwove with hers. His body shuddered like a horse before a race.

  Every part of her was splayed before him—not just her body, her desires, and every fault. Without much effort on his part, she’d spill all her fears and aspirations for life. All he had to do was ask. Who would have thought passion made a person so unguarded?

  Soon, he swept her hand aside and took control of the caresses with a smooth and gentle touch. She was safe in his arms. An ache began to build inside. Nick kissed her again while his tongue caressed her mouth, slow and certain in his movements. She arched into his hand, hungry for more. Even though his touch was exquisite, it wasn’t quite enough, and she whimpered, seeking more of him.

  His manner told her there was no hurry. Whispers of tender, sensual words brushed her skin. She pushed nearer in an effort to get closer to him and satisfy this yearning he’d created. Crests of pleasure increased beyond anything she had ever felt before. It was if she were drowning in his touch. “Please … stop. This is too much.”

  “Don’t fight it. Let go.”

  One finger entered her
as he continued to stroke her. The tension inside of her mounted, and she mewled in response.

  “Shh,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of you.” His tender promise only inflamed her more.

  She closed her eyes as his name passed her lips. She barely heard him say her name in response as she pushed her center against his hand. She couldn’t control anything anymore and felt as if she’d fallen over a cliff as waves of sensation crashed through her body. When the height of pleasure swallowed her, she was certain her heart would break through her chest. But the beat eventually slowed to its normal rhythm, and her gasps grew quiet.

  Nick waited for her aftershocks to cease. He embraced her and claimed her mouth in a soul-scorching kiss as he pushed his cock against her abdomen. Her body melted against his as if it knew there was more for him to show her.

  He never took his eyes from hers as he brought his fingers, the ones that touched her so intimately, to his mouth and sucked. He kissed her full on the mouth, and she tasted her own essence on his tongue.

  She understood the power of the moment. What they had shared was beyond her comprehension just minutes ago.

  She wanted every piece of him—body, mind, and soul.

  He pulled their arms over her head, fingers entwined, all the while pleasuring her with his kisses, deliberately driving her mad. He rocked against her, mimicking the act of taking her. He placed sensitive kisses across her forehead, her brows, her cheeks, and the delicate skin behind her ears. It still wasn’t enough. She arched to feel his chest rub against hers. Such wonder—such delightful torture.

  Gentle as a breeze, his breath brushed her face. The sensation burrowed deep. She was so befuddled from what they’d just shared.

  Somehow within the last few minutes she’d lost the ability to speak. He must have seen her plight and taken mercy on her. His lips touched hers with a light sweep before he drew away. She moaned in protest. As if understanding her loss, his mouth covered hers again.