The Right One (One and Only Series)
Page 18
Her tantalizing scent beguiled him. With the gentlest of touches, he stroked her cheek. When her eyes closed and she leaned into his caress, a sense of elation filled his soul. His hands unsteady, he gathered her, drawing her into the circle of his arms.
He had wanted to go slowly. But, one touch and he was lost. Tenderness turned to passion with lightning speed. He grasped her thick auburn tresses and splayed his fingers across the back of her head so he could better capture her mouth with his own.
His free hand slid down over the delicate covering to settle on her waist. Knowing the transparent material hid nothing, or maybe his urgency to possess her, caused some difficulty breathing. Gasping, he jerked his head up, searching Kat’s eyes for any sign that he had been too rough or that she would reject him. Finding none, he croaked, “Heaven help me. I must have you again.”
Swaying slightly, she drew his head down. He captured her breath with his kiss. She attacked his mouth with vigor, fire and a need that consumed him. Her fingers tangled in his shirt pulling him closer. His mouth plundered while their overheated passions took control over their minds.
With a groan, he broke the kiss, and swooped her into his arms. Placing a knee on the quilted coverlet, he gently lowered them both, bracing one arm on the feather-tic, the other tight around her body. His gaze pierced hers while he trailed his hand across her hip like a whispered caress, down her thigh with tantalizing slowness, around her calf and to the hem of her gown, sliding the thin delicacy upward.
Eager in her movements, Kat helped him remove the gossamer covering. Totally naked before his eyes, he feasted on her beauty. Painful anticipation centered in his chest.
Kat.
His.
Ever so slowly, he trailed a finger from her ear down the throbbing vein in her provocative neck. Unable to resist, he placed open mouth kisses on the same path his finger had taken. He tasted every inch of her sweet flesh as his kisses moved lower. He wanted to savor the moment, delight in each stroke of his tongue, absorb each sigh, every quiver, make slow sweet love to her endlessly.
This feeling of unhurried sex, of languorous lovemaking stirred an emotion he quickly denied. Encouraged feeling that tempted him to succumb. Having Kat in his arms gave him warmth and a craving he’d never known. He wanted to lose himself in her enchantment and bask in paradise.
She tugged his hair. Her breaths came out as hard pants making him more ravenous. He kissed her with hunger, communicating his desire with every stroke of his tongue. His fingers teased her curls. Her heart thundered in anticipation. When she seized his arm in a death grip between her legs, he afforded a chuckle. His Kat had more passion than he could have imagined. He palmed her woman’s mound, and pressed. One finger stroked between her nether lips causing her hips to buck, making an already raging fire burn out of control.
“Oh Heaven! Oh, dear God!” She writhed and panted. “Ohhhhh, Morgan, I need . . . I ache . . . Morgan . . . I yearn . . . please . . .”
“Come for me, sweeting. That’s it. Come for me.”
He thrust his tongue savagely into her mouth at the same time he thrust two fingers inside of her. She moaned and wriggled closer while tangling her hands in his hair.
Desire filled his entire being. A hunger for this woman he’d never felt for another.
His Kat.
For God’s sake, man. It’s only lust. Yet it threatened his peace. After only one taste, he’d craved more. The fulfillment he found in her arms soothed his aching soul. How could one man endure this much pleasure?
But he did. Giving her ecstasy gave him immense gratification in return.
And he wasn’t done.
“You are so responsive. So sensual. When I touch you, I am responding to you. Kat. What you do to me . . . your touch . . . your cries . . .
Her eyes clouded over. Her arms tightened. “I want you.”
Her words lanced his concentration and heightened his arousal. He hadn’t dreamed such words could be so piercingly sweet. He lowered his head, not taking his gaze from hers. He caressed her lips with sensual longing. On and on, he plundered, his chest swelling with tenderness. His hands drifted across her belly while his lips took a path of carnal bliss. One blissful inch at a time, he worked his magic. When he brushed kisses from her neck, across her collar bone to her shoulder, she shivered. Delighted, he drifted lower. And lower.
He skimmed his hands down her sides to her hips. Taunting hot, open mouth kisses followed, each a deliberate attempt to heighten her joy.
She quivered.
Delight twisted in his chest. Permitting a smile, he slid down to kiss the exposed flesh of one calf. Shifting, he placed both hands under her knees and urged her legs apart. Latching onto her gaze, he licked his lips, and ever so slowly, lowered his head.
Raging desire flooded Kat’s entire being. Morgan stared at her with blazing eyes, a savage hunger in their depths. With that famous stray-lock of hair falling over his forehead, he looked like the devil himself.
He bent to kiss the inside of her thighs. Surely she’d fallen, for she should not want his head there. She should not want his kiss there. He spread her legs a bit further with each open mouth kiss, her blood rising higher as he drew closer to the center of her being. Her eyes closed, she pressed her head into the pillows. Closer . . . the breath constricted in her lungs and she waited—her body wound as tight as the string on a hunter’s bow—she waited . . .
“I love touching you. I love kissing you. And now, I’m going to kiss you here.”
His breath caressed her before a feather-soft kiss landed against her—there. Even though she expected—hoped—desperately wanted him to kiss her there—she never dreamed his lips would feel so heavenly. She wanted to scream. Incapable of breath. It was maddening. Shock and pleasure joined to send alarming signals of unbelievable need within. It felt sinful, delicious.
Hotter than she believed possible, Morgan’s dancing tongue sent sparks of fire through her veins—from the crown of her head down through her receptive, taut toes. He kissed her and nuzzled her until her mind lost all rational thinking. She could only feel. His darting tongue shocked her into a frenzy. Already beyond reason, she didn’t know how she could take anymore.
Gasping, she clutched his head and tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him prisoner. He’d stunned her. He’d thrilled her, into a maze of elated emotion. His kisses drifted upward, caressing her belly in tantalizing circles.
Go back! Go back!
She ached. Her womanhood demanded that he take her and put an end to this thrilling torture. The path of his kisses rose higher still as he placed one enflamed kiss after another on her sensitized skin. Warbled moans escaped from her throat, her hands reaching while her legs opened and clenched around him. Her mind, a helpless mass of fervor, she had no control of her body’s movements.
The rough texture of his tongue laved her nipple, sending sparks of fire in her chest and longing through every cell in her body. His breath chilled her nipple, and then his electrifying hot mouth covered her again. She whimpered. The hot-cold sensation kept her unbalanced, causing an ache so intense she clawed and pulled at him, and advanced an attack of her own.
Pressing her mouth on his breast, she worked her way across his beckoning chest. Finding his male pebbles erect, she nipped at him. His reaction stirred her to do it again. Oh, it was exciting. So hot, so lost in overwhelming emotions, she wanted to flame the fire in him as he had in her. Her intent to please him, she would not be denied. She couldn’t seem to touch him enough. Kiss him enough.
Morgan took charge as he moved on top of her, rubbing her breasts with his body. His thick, silky chest-hair made her sensitive breasts tingle with impatience. He held her thigh, sliding his knee underneath, and lifted her leg over his own. He grasped her other leg placing it high over his hip. She felt exposed.
“Kat, look at me.”
His words came through the fog in her brain. Her eyes fluttered. In one swift move, he thrust. White-hot heat scorched her. His breath came heavily against her ear. Their intimacy had her spiraling out of control again.
He focused his attention on her burning breasts, loving them with his tongue. Every bone in her body melted. Every nerve heightened. Consumed in her burning passion, she clenched him as he slowly drew out and thrust in again.
He kissed her with the wild abandonment of an untamed animal. He plunged into her again, pumping hard and fast, slamming into her. It was there again, just out of reach. Kat threw her head back as the violent pressure became unbearable.
“Put your legs around me, sweeting.”
Each stroke penetrated deeper, sweeping her higher. Her blood boiling like a volcano ready to explode, she writhed against him. A guttural cry of pure rapture escaped her lips. Molten lava poured through her veins. Fire rushed through her legs to tingle in her toes. Mind-numbing . . . blissful . . . ecstasy.
He held her in desperation. Straining against her, he flung his head back, a growl of satisfaction rumbled from his throat. He pressed into her, prolonging the long moment. His release as powerful as her own. Then he shifted, and gathered her into his arms so tenderly, she felt safe, and cherished.
Pressed together from shoulder to thigh, her heart thundered against his.
“I love you,” floated from her lips.
Morgan stiffened—his body rigid as stone.
Chapter 24
Flames gone, only red embers glowed from the hearth. Shirtless, sprawled in his beloved leather chair, he crossed his bare feet at the ankles and stared at black coals, dawn mere minutes away. Desperate to clear his mind after their bout of lovemaking, he’d uncapped a bottle not bothering with a glass. Hell. He was becoming a damned drunk.
Morgan had imagined having Kat in his bed—she haunted his dreams day and night—but nothing compared to experiencing such bliss. Her uninhibited response—her gasps and cries of elation had sent lightning bolts to his already engorged cock. He’d wanted to give her pleasure. He never envisioned that he would receive as much pleasure in her.
He took another pull and swallowed. Then rested his head on the back of his chair
I love you.
How could three little words turn his world upside-down?
Sometimes women said ridiculous things in the heat of passion. Kat may have been drowsy and gloriously flushed—every naked inch of her—but she’d spoken. And she’d uttered those damning words.
With the bottle propped on his chest, he stared through the glass into the depths of the amber colored liquid. Love. Ha. A word that could open hearts. Give hope. Allow the notion dreams were possible. And then rip the guts right out of a man’s soul.
Out of habit, he rubbed the stubble on his jaw. Kat’s image flooded his mind. Her heavenly fragrance still lingered. Her breasts were made for loving. Basic need drove him to squeeze, to bury his face in their lushness, to kiss, suck, and make love to them forever. As he plunged within her body, her moans of ecstasy plunged him to unimaginable heights.
He’d lost himself.
Completely lost in her.
She was the most delectable creature he had ever known.
Passion. Yes. His Kat certainly had passion. He’d found—much to his delight—that she was a sensual woman. His chest tightened, amazed at how much her response affected him.
He scratched the fur on his ribs. A man had to keep his head. Not allow a woman to take over his mind. True, he’d planned to marry. But, good God. Not for love. Never for love.
What was he supposed to do now? Since he couldn’t keep his randy cock in his pants . . . He shoved out of the chair.
Bloody hell. He could not marry Kat. She would become essential to his life. Needing her every day. Making love to her every night. She’d worm her way under his skin making him dependent on her.
Like she hadn’t already taken root.
No. He needed a wife to run his home. Give him an heir. One that would not occupy his mind all day and keep him from sleeping at night. A woman who would not demand his time and expect to hear words of endearment that were not a part of his life. A woman who did not love him would not expect him to return any sentiment. Feelings he was incapable of giving.
Emotions had not surfaced in a long time, and as far as he was concerned, they never would. Passion and sexual cravings were not emotional. They were simply a body’s cravings.
Explain that to Kat.
He skewed the bottle and drew hard, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. In his mind he saw her sleeping form. “Exquisite.” He had gathered her in his arms, not willing to let go of such a delicate treasure. While he’d cradled her against his body, he’d been utterly enthralled. He still couldn’t believe how, in that shattering moment, he’d found fulfillment beyond anything he’d experienced in the bedchamber.
Peace.
Contentment.
Like he’d finally come home.
The back of his head dug into the soft leather. Emerald eyes filled with adoration. His gut twisted. Something like pain flickered in one corner of his heart.
My Beloved Kat.
Blood and the devil!
He knew what he must do.
She would be gone in the morning.
Kat woke to find Mrs. Beasley with a tray beside her bed—and hoped no evidence revealed how she spent the night.
“I brought you some hot cocoa and coffee, not knowing which you would prefer.”
“I’m afraid the hot cocoa will put me back to sleep. Better make it coffee.”
She sat up and put her back to the headboard, every muscle smarting. After Mrs. Beasley left, she lazed about, dreaming of Morgan. She felt gloriously naughty. Deliriously happy.
Morgan was a magnificent man. She snuggled deeper into the feathered mattress. He had kissed her and touched her in places—her skin still tingled from his touch. She’d cast fate to the winds and plunged into delicious wickedness.
Drawing in a breath, she heaved a profound sigh. She couldn’t help it. She’d had no control. Her body took over her mind and she’d hung on for dear life. There had been no thinking, no concept about what they were doing. Only need. For whatever was to be.
She’d never felt so safe, so cherished, as she had the moment when Morgan had pulled her head to his chest and held her. Had she imagined his loving caress, his cuddling possessiveness? Content and snug in his arms, she’d dozed off. She had not meant to, but she had been so relaxed, and downright exhausted. So blissful in the cocoon of his arms.
She threw back the covers and put her feet on the floor. Locking her fingers, she stretched her arms high above her head. What a wonderful morning. Suddenly, a cloud covered her joy. Soon she would be on her way to the Viscount’s.
Could she stay at Whetherford Manor longer?
What a wonderful—dangerous—idea. She giggled. Her humor disappeared at the thought of being found out by her aunt and uncle. She headed to the bathing chamber where a bath awaited her. She trailed a finger in the water finding it still warm. A quick bath and she would go in search of Morgan.
With one hand on the polished wood, she crept silently down the wide staircase. Excitement, anticipation, in eagerness her tread quickened. She entered the dining hall, Morgan was not at the table. Disappointment clouded her earlier elation. Her steps slower now, she took her seat and waited. Mrs. Beasley and her cheerful smile sailed through the doorway.
“Eat up now, miss. You have a long journey ahead.”
Kat stilled. Of course, the staff expec
ted her to be on her way. “Where is Lord Whetherford?”
“He took that horse of his out for a ride this morning at the crack of dawn. Came back a while ago and went to his study.”
Kat’s joy plummeted. Morgan would not be joining her? Why?
A sense of unease crept into her thoughts. Had she behaved badly? Had her brazen willingness appalled him?
Surely not. He enjoyed their union as much as she. But then, he was a man. The thrill of the chase and all that rot.
No. She would not believe it. His kisses were sweeter, tenderer, more meaningful than if he were a rogue.
Like she would know the difference.
He’d caressed her as though he cared.
“That man spends too much time alone.”
Mrs. Beasley’s voice brought her out of her deliberation. No longer hungry, she picked at the food on her plate.
“I prepared a basket of food for you to take along. You never know when you might get hungry.”
Maybe her appetite would return in the carriage. If she left today. Hope and determination surged anew.
Kat had never been one to put off the avoidable. Placing her silver beside her plate, she exited the room. Her destination—Morgan’s study. Would he welcome her—or send her on her way? Devil take him for putting doubts in her head.
Solid wood stood between her and answers to her misgivings. The same door she’d stood before, not that long ago, agonizing over meeting Whetherford, determined to find why she’d been abducted. Had it only been a few months? Kat raised her hand with determination.