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Forbidden Page 7

by Jess Michaels


  She was shocked by his use of such language, for as a lady she had hardly ever been exposed to those words. But the fact that she had driven him to such impropriety on every level was also…arousing. Equally shocking was his declaration of having these powerful feelings for so long.

  “You cannot mean that,” she whispered.

  He leaned in, his face close to hers. “I do.”

  She was shaking as she lifted her chin in defiance. “Well, then perhaps this arrangement I propose will extinguish that fire you claim to have when it comes to me. We will both have our fill and in the end be better for it.”

  He shook his head, and panic filled her. He was already so close, but she inched even closer, cupping his cheeks with shaking hands, feeling his hot breath on her face and the coiled tension of him in her very core.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “You won’t be able to undo this, Audrey,” he growled.

  She swallowed hard. “I-I won’t want to,” she promised, and in that moment she knew she meant it even if she wasn’t fully clear on what she was about to do. With Jude, it would be worth it.

  “We’ll see,” he said just before he claimed her lips once again.

  There was so much hunger in this kiss. More even than when he pleasured her against the tree in the garden. There was purpose. And she found herself surrendering to it, arching against him, willing to trust him in ways she hardly trusted herself.

  He backed her up until she hit the door to his cottage, and without breaking their kiss, he fumbled for the handle. The door opened and they staggered in together. He had already begun to work on the buttons of her silken gown, his fingers brushing her skin as he loosened the fastenings swiftly and efficiently.

  He kicked the door shut behind them and pulled the gown down in the same motion. She gasped. Inside there was lamplight and firelight. In the little open living area, she was exposed in just her chemise, one that did little to hide the hardening of her nipples against the soft fabric.

  He made a possessive noise in his throat and tugged the dress harder, pooling it at her feet and leaving her even more naked. She fought the urge to pull the hem of her chemise down so that her thighs were covered.

  He stepped back and looked at her from head to toe, his blue eyes almost midnight in color. “I have pictured this in my mind for so long,” he said, his voice rough. “And I have never even been close to how perfect you are.”

  She blushed at both the exposure she felt and the compliment he gave. She felt like she should do something, say something, but her experience was so limited that she just stood looking at him.

  He smiled, a rather arrogant look, and folded his arms. “Have you changed your mind?”

  Her eyes went wide. “Is that why you stare at me? To shame me into altering our agreement.”

  “We haven’t come to an agreement,” he said. “And I don’t want you to feel shame, I assure you. But there will come a moment when it is too late to go back. I want to be certain you don’t change your mind.”

  “I don’t want to change my mind,” she said, hoping her voice was more certain than her heart. Then she reached up and tugged the chemise straps down, wiggling out of the only clothing that covered her and leaving her only in her stockings and slippers.

  She didn’t know what had inspired her to be so bold, but the moment she stood all but naked before him, she saw the shift in Jude’s gaze. It went from teasing to tormented in an instant.

  “You are determined,” he murmured as he stepped toward her and reached out a finger to trace a line from her collarbone to the tip of one rigid nipple. She gasped. He had touched her before, but not like this. Not naked. Not alone.

  “I must be,” she panted, trying not to moan as he circled his fingernail around and around her nipple.

  “Must you?” he whispered, and bent his head to her breast. He darted out his tongue and it replaced his finger in a slow swirl that sent starbursts exploding before her gaze.

  “Oh God,” she gasped, her hands coming up into his crisp, short hair and holding him at that point of searing pleasure.

  He chuckled against her skin but didn’t stop licking her. In fact, it seemed to only encourage him to continue the action at her opposite breast. She shivered at his attentions and her knees began to buckle.

  But it was as if he sensed her weakness, because he wrapped an arm around her waist as she crumpled and held her up even as he backed her toward the open door to his bedchamber.

  As they passed through the threshold, he lifted his head from her breasts and met her stare. She wondered if he saw her excitement and her terror, mixed together in a confusing jumble in the pit of her stomach.

  “Have you changed your mind?” he asked again.

  She pursed her lips. “No,” she declared.

  He shook his head. “Very well.”

  Without warning he pushed her back gently and she sprawled onto his bed. He stared down at her, heat in his stare and then reached down to take her slipper into his hand. He unfastened the dainty buckle and glided it away, tossing it over his shoulder. Then he caught the edge of her stocking and began to roll it down over her knee, her calf.

  He teased her as he did it, massaging her flesh, smiling as she arched against her will as his touch sent such sensations through her. He repeated the action on her other foot and soon she found herself utterly and completely naked. Utterly and completely at his mercy.

  “What shall I do with you?” he murmured. She didn’t answer, for it seemed he asked himself more than required a response. All she could do was watch him, wait for him.

  He stepped to the edge of the bed, positioning himself between her legs and forcing her to open them to accommodate his trim hips. She turned her face, embarrassed at being spread open to him like a wanton, her sex on display. It was humiliating to have him stare at her.

  It was oh-so-thrilling.

  “Look at me,” he said, his tone rough but soft.

  She forced herself to do as he asked and found him looking not at her sex, but her face.

  “Do you want to go back to the house?”

  She folded her arms over her breasts. “N-No.”

  “Do you want me to taste you?” he asked, this time pressing his hands to her thighs and opening her further. He leaned in and she gasped. Taste her? There?

  “I-I don’t know,” she admitted.

  He ignored her answer and instead slid his hands beneath her backside. He lifted her slightly and she fisted the coverlet into her hands. Now she was truly on display, but she found her embarrassment fading and excitement mounting.

  “Please,” she whimpered.

  He cast a swift glance up at her, then lowered his mouth to the lips of her sex. He brushed them against her, gently at first, but it was enough to send liquid heat spiraling from her core to the rest of her body. Then he opened his mouth and glided his tongue along her slick entrance.

  “I knew you would be sweet,” he said against her body, the vibrations of his words making her jolt. “So sweet.”

  She arched and turned her head at the pleasure. He stroked his tongue over her again and again and she found herself lifting to those strokes, meeting him, clenching against him to heighten the sensation. He sucked the little nub of nerves at the top of her sex and she cried out, for that action focused her pleasure. He did it again and her body began to jerk out of control in wave after wave of unexpected but highly pleasurable sensation. It was just like against the tree earlier in the day, but more focused, more intense. She rode it out, desperate for more and he gave it, drawing the pleasure out for what felt like forever.

  And when the tremors stopped and she lay limp and languid on his bed, only then did he rise to his feet. She looked up at him, anticipation growing in her despite her recent release.

  He cursed, this time beneath his breath, and yanked his shirt from the waistband of his trousers. He went to work on the buttons at a fantastic rate of speed and swiftly drew the item ov
er his head.

  She gasped as she looked up at him. She had never seen a man naked before. Oh, she’d seen a few paintings here, a statue there, that revealed the male form, but here in the flesh it was far more impressive. He was lean, but still muscular, with a trim waist and broad shoulders that tapered into a stomach rippled with tiny muscles. His chest had a fine peppering of dark hair that disappeared into a line into his trousers.

  “Tell me to stop,” he said, breathless.

  “Don’t stop,” she said in defiance, even though she never took her eyes from his half-naked flesh. “I want more.”

  His hands fisted at his sides for a moment, then he took a deep breath and unfastened his trousers. He pushed them away, down his hips, and she sat bolt upright with a gasp.

  This was far more impressive than those marble statues that were her only standard. His…member was thick and hard, curling up against his stomach in a display of male arousal.

  “What do you call it?” she asked, wanting desperately to touch it.

  He lifted his eyebrows. “Are you asking if I have a nickname for my cock?”

  She forced her stare from his…cock, that was the name for it, and to his face. “No, I just didn’t know what it was called. A cock. Wait, do you have a nickname for it? Do men do that?”

  He smiled for the first time since he had kissed her earlier in the day. “Some men do. I never have. And yes, this is my cock.” He gripped it in hand and stroked over it once. She saw the pleasure it gave him by the shiver that worked through his body with the motion. “And I will put it inside of you, Audrey. Nothing will be the same for you after that. So I’m going to ask you one last time. Have you changed your mind?”

  She held her breath, for this last offer to go back was his most tempting. And yet what she saw before her was even more so. She lowered herself back to the bed, opened her legs and whispered, “I haven’t.”

  He gritted his teeth and there was a pained expression on his face as he looked down at her. But he still moved forward, he still braced one hand on either side of her head, holding himself above her. The warmth of his body covered hers, but she still shivered at the feel of his skin over hers. Bare. Sinful.

  “I shouldn’t do this,” he whispered, though she wasn’t certain that the statement was directed toward her or himself.

  Either way, she reached up and cupped the back of his neck with her hand, drawing him down. Just before their lips touched, she murmured, “But you will.”

  They kissed, but this time there wasn’t desperation or challenge to the act. Just a gentle joining of their mouths. She tasted herself on his tongue, and the earthy flavor was surprising and arousing. She sank into the flavor, the feel of drawing him closer. And in that moment, the passion between them didn’t frighten her.

  It fed her.

  She felt him opening her legs wider with, felt him positioning his sex at the entrance to her own. Never did she think of stopping him. Never did she hesitate. She merely lifted to greet him as he began to glide forward into her waiting and so very willing body.

  Even when pain met his invasion, even when he took her innocence in a quick, starburst push, she didn’t regret what she was doing. She only gasped, breaking their kiss and staring up at him in wonder.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. But the rest will be better.”

  She nodded at his promise, relaxing again as he continued forward and fully seated himself inside of her. He stopped then, his breath heavy, his eyes glazed with need. She could see how much he wanted to thrust. Needed to do so. And yet he held back to protect her.

  “You said you’ve waited a long time for this,” she said, watching every tremor and tremble that moved across his face. It was so much easier to read him from this close. To see his need and his care and his regret.

  “I have,” he admitted, his voice low and rough.

  “Then don’t wait anymore,” she urged him. “I want what you’ll give, Jude. Now.”

  Her permission seemed to break the spell around them. With a great breath of what she thought was relief, he began to move. Erratically at first, as if his control had been broken at last. He shuddered as he did so, a low groan of pleasure saying everything she needed to know. But as he took her, his rhythm formed, he began to grind his hips against her and, to her shock, that action awoke her pleasure once again.

  She lifted out of instinct, following him as he withdrew, opening for him as he took. His mouth fell on hers and they were one body, reaching and seeking for mutual pleasure. And it was there, like a shining beacon on a pretend horizon. She could see it, looming larger, feel it in the twitch of her sex around him as pleasure built and grew.

  And when it overcame her, it was the most powerful release he had given her yet. She dug her nails into his bare back, thrashing beneath him as she cried out his name over and over. Her release milked him and he let out his own low cry before he withdrew from her body suddenly, leaving her bereft as he spurted his release away from her.

  When he had spent, he collapsed back over her, panting as he clutched her to his chest. She clung to him too, shocked by what she had done. By how right it had felt. By how she already wanted to do it again and again.

  And it was in that moment of clarity, as they held each other in the dim firelight of his chamber, that she realized this moment was more terrifying than any of the ones filled with passion. This moment could destroy worlds.

  Because it was perfect.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Audrey tiptoed around the bed where Jude still slept, using the faint light from the window in the other room to find her missing slipper. She grabbed it from under a chair in the corner and crept out the door into the main room, where her dress and chemise lay in a heap, accusing her. Reminding her of what she’d done.

  Not that her body didn’t do the same. She ached all over. But it was a wonderful ache, one that made her feel alive and beautiful and womanly in every way.

  She gathered up her chemise, tugging it over her head, and stepped into her dress. But as she did so, she realized she would have to button it. And the buttons ran along her spine.

  “Oh blast,” she muttered, but before she could struggle to fix herself or make any decisions about what to do next, she felt warm hands on her back.

  She leaned into them with a smile. “Good morning.”

  Jude pressed his lips against the side of her neck as he worked. “Good morning.”

  They said nothing else as he fastened her quickly, but when he was finished, he turned her to face him. She caught her breath. He was…naked! Oh so delectably and wonderfully naked, and it took everything in her to recall that it was far too late in the morning for her to indulge in any of the wicked scenarios that clouded her mind.

  “Enjoying the show?” he asked, his tone amused.

  She realized she had been staring at his cock and snapped her eyes back to his face. “Yes. No. Yes.”

  He laughed. “I wish I could give you a better one, I admit, but the sun grows higher with every passing moment and you should get back to your chamber before your maid notices your absence.

  She looked down at herself. “I already worry that I’m dressed for dinner. If anyone sees me—”

  His smile fell. “Yes, I can see how that would be difficult to explain. Especially since your hair is a mess, darling.”

  She rolled her eyes at his teasing, which should have been so very inappropriate in this tense moment, but which made her heart sing instead.

  “I did my best with your tiny little mirror and that unfortunate comb! But thank you. I’ll file away your compliments for all time. Truly, though, do you think I’ll be spotted?”

  “Use the back entrance,” he suggested. “Then instead of the main stair or the servant stair, use that old one, the one with all the cobwebs and the secret little windows.”

  She smiled. Jude had been to this house so many times, he knew it as she did, like the back of his hand. She loved that fact.
And as she stared at him, her heart did an odd little thump that she desperately tried to ignore.

  “Good idea. I may come out spidery”— she shivered—“but unseen.” She hesitated a moment, even though she should have slipped right out of his cottage and back to reality. “Er, will I…see you today?”

  “Of course,” he said with a shake of his head. “We are supposed to arrange the parlor furniture after luncheon at one, are we not?”

  She nodded. “Yes, but I feared you might…avoid me after last night. And I suppose I didn’t just mean seeing you in the parlor. Will I see you at meals? Will you allow me to come here again?”

  He stepped closer, tucking one of her tangled curls behind her ear. “So many questions, Audrey. But we’ve already decided, haven’t we? If you want to—how did you put it?—purge your urges with me, I don’t think I have the strength of character to deny you. Especially now that I know how you feel around me.”

  Her lips parted at those powerful words, at the lazy sensuality in his blue eyes. How could he so easily affect her, like she was a puppet on a string.

  “Good,” she whispered, then lifted to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

  To her surprise, he turned his face and her mouth landed squarely against hers instead. He caught her in his arms, pulling her against that warm, hard bare chest and most thoroughly and passionately explored her mouth. Until her sex grew hot and wet, until her body trembled.

  Then he set her aside, with a rather desperate and animal groan. “Yes, you had best go, Audrey. Now.”

  She knew why. She could see evidence of it in the very hard cock that now thrust against his stomach. “What will you do about—”

  “Go!” he repeated, his tone both laughing and hard as steel.

  She didn’t ask again. She merely fled the cottage, pulling the door shut tightly behind herself. She leaned on it for a moment, panting with both desire and exertion. Her mind was a tangled ball of yarn at present, her emotions threaded together until they were hard to parse out and see clearly.

 

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