by Connie Mason
Moira gulped noisily. “I thought we decided not to become intimately involved. Becoming lovers would only complicate our relationship.” She feared that if she told him she was a virgin he’d know she’d been lying from the beginning. She wasn’t ready to tell the truth, for she wasn’t sure she could trust him. Newgate prison did not appeal to her.
“Ah, love, you talk too much.”
Still grinning, he reached out, pulled her into his arms and kissed her. His lips were softly seductive, tenderly persuasive, wonderfully warm. With a small cry of surrender, Moira surged against him. His arms offered a safe haven against the cruel world, his mouth and teasing tongue an invitation to sinful pleasures she could only imagine. He was pure temptation. When his hands moved over her body, Moira felt she would melt into a puddle.
Chapter Eight
For a long time, Jack simply held and kissed Moira, until the tension in her taut muscles and tendons began to relax. His warmth and desire surrounded her, slowly allowing her temperature to heat to match his. His kisses were more dangerous than she realized, for he made her long to trust and confide. It seemed so natural to be in his arms that she paid little heed to the slither of her dress as it slid down her hips to pool at her feet.
The urge to pour out her fears and soak up his strength was so strong that she nearly forgot that Black Jack Graystoke was a man known to take his pleasure where he found it. The thought jarred her out of her contentment. She broke off the kiss, shaken, and tried to escape his arms.
“This is wrong.”
Jack sent her a lazy grin. “Feels right to me.” His mouth clamped over hers, effectively silencing her protests. The velvet stroke of his tongue made it difficult to recall why she shouldn’t be allowing this kind of intimacy. Her dim pleasure thickened to sharp craving when he cupped her breast and stroked her nipple with his thumb.
His kiss grew bolder, deeper, evocative. He slid the straps of her chemise from her shoulders and untied the laces of her corset, pushing both down past her hips to join her dress and petticoats at her feet. He bent his head and pressed the moist heat of his mouth to her breast, the pounding of her blood matching the rhythmic lapping of his tongue. Her body arched and she pushed upward, guiltily aware that she was offering him free access to the forbidden fruits of her body.
Jack moaned, sucking her nipple into his mouth and tonguing it to erectness. Moira’s knees buckled. Jack made a growling sound deep in his throat, swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her full length on the soft surface, pausing to remove her shoes and stockings before leaning back to admire her.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered as he gazed down at her. “But you’ve probably been told that before.”
He cupped her breasts in his warm hands, then leaned forward to suckle them. A deluge of delicious new sensations made her whimper and jerk involuntarily. His hands skimmed her limbs and torso, taking untold pleasure in the fragile flesh beneath his fingertips, so warm, so silken, so utterly enthralling. She couldn’t be called voluptuous, but she possessed more than her share of womanly attributes, Jack thought as his lips and tongue memorized the ripe curves of her breasts.
“Blessed Virgin, what are you doing to me?” Moira gasped, alarmed by her eagerness to participate in Jack’s depravities. Something dark and consuming clawed its way through her fear, heated her blood, sped her heart and speared her body with strange, aching desire for that which she had never known before.
“Making love to you,” Jack whispered huskily. “I don’t want you thinking of any other man while I’m loving you.”
How could she think of another man, Moira wondered distractedly, when Jack was doing such incredible things to her body? Before she knew what he was doing, he stripped off his trousers, hose, jacket, shirt, shoes and small clothes, and was pressing his nakedness against her in fervid longing. Moira made a sound of strangled delight as she felt her muscles surrendering to the melting warmth of his body.
“This is a mistake!” Moira cried out, gathering the last vestiges of her control. “Don’t do this to me.”
He gave her a wicked chuckle. “I wanted to kill Prince Gregor tonight, not to mention Renfrew. Seeing you in their arms drove me wild with jealousy, and I don’t like the feeling. Once I satisfy this craving for you, I’ll know peace again.” For some reason unbeknownst to him, he wanted her with a strong, irrational longing that exceeded his good sense.
She lifted her head to stare at him in unguarded surprise. That a womanizer like Jack Graystoke should express jealousy on her account was curious indeed. More than curious—downright strange. But before she had time to explore the possibilities, his hand slid down between her legs, rubbing the heel of his palm against her, slowly, erotically, until her hips arched against his hand seemingly out of instinct and she felt a liquid heat bathe her there.
Dismayed, she cried out, and his eyes seemed to glow pure silver as he watched her, a dark, hungry expression on his face. He was resting against her hipbones, the hard ridge of his flesh gently prodding her between the legs. She closed her eyes, suddenly wanting what Jack was offering though she knew it was wrong, that he was merely using her to assuage his lust. He would add her to his list of conquests and blithely go on to the next, forgetting she ever existed.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Jack said, sensing her fear. “This isn’t new to you; you’ve been loved before.”
“No…I…” What could she say? That she’d lied to him from the moment she awakened in his bed? It was long past the time for confession.
The moment for truth had passed as Jack lowered his head and kissed her eyelids, feathering them gently. His mouth moved down to brush her lips, nibbling lightly, delicately, stroking his tongue against the seam before urging them open so he could taste more fully of her sweetness. When her tongue touched his, his body tightened painfully, less willing to accept being patient than his mind.
His fingers delved into her slick, hot interior and found her wet and ready. He probed more deeply, encountering folds of delicate flesh that pulsed against his fingertips, lavishly moist and surprisingly tight. Moira gave a startled cry and buried her face in his shoulder, lost in a haze of raw sensation.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Jack groaned in a strangled voice that bore little resemblance to his usual resonant tones, “don’t hold back. Tonight is ours to explore all the ways to make you happy. Just tell me what you like. You’ll find me a generous lover.”
Thrusting again and again, his fingers set up a clamoring in her that built to a shattering crescendo. When he bent his head and licked her nipples, every muscle in her body tightened and she climaxed abruptly, crying out his name in shock and fear. Never had she felt anything so intensely gratifying or frightening in her life! It was almost as if Jack had torn out a little piece of her, a piece that could never be replaced.
She had barely revived from the shock of her very first climax when he grasped her hips to raise her a little as he began to move into her. She felt herself fill and stretch; it was not yet painful, but very close. She grasped his sleek, powerful shoulders to push him away.
“No!”
Jack went still. “No?”
“I…It won’t work. You’re too…too…It won’t fit.”
Jack let out a bark of laughter. “Your other lovers must have been woefully lacking, sweetheart. I’ll admit it’s a tight fit, but you’ll adjust.”
Holding her hips at an angle, he pushed farther into her. He was perspiring heavily from unaccustomed restraint, wondering why he didn’t just thrust himself to the hilt like he wanted instead of taking precious time with a woman who was probably as experienced as he. Truth to tell, he was beginning to grow uneasy at the tightness he was encountering. Suddenly the tip of his staff butted against a barrier that wasn’t supposed to be there. He paused and frowned, noting that Moira’s eyes were closed tightly and she was biting her bottom lip as if in pain.
“Damn you! You lied!”
But
it was too late to pull back now. He was so hard he ached. His body was drawn taut as a bowstring, and if he didn’t find release soon, he’d explode. Still, he didn’t want to hurt Moira unnecessarily. Grasping her legs, he pushed them as far apart as they would go and wedged himself against her.
“I’ll try not to hurt you. You’re very tight, but you’re also very wet.”
Moira held her breath. Jack’s face was stark with need and taut with self-imposed restraint. Looking into her eyes, he drew back and surged into her in one powerful stroke. Shock and surprise slammed through Moira, and she screamed as pain ripped through her. She felt suddenly too full, too tight, too consumed by Jack. He was all the way inside her.
“Hush, sweetheart,” Jack crooned into her ear. “The pain will last but a moment.”
Just when she thought she couldn’t bear the pain a moment longer, Jack rocked gently back and forth, creating a delicious sensation that sent Moira’s blood singing through her veins and soothing the hurt he’d created moments before. She dug her fingers into the firm muscles of his shoulders and waited for the pain to return. When it did not, she moved tentatively to meet his downward strokes. Jack groaned in delight and urged her on with words of praise. When he grasped her legs and wrapped them around his waist, Moira’s thighs gripped him tightly, rocking with him as he began moving more forcefully, thrusting and withdrawing in a vigorous, jerking motion that sent her senses reeling.
The intimacy was shattering as he moved forcefully within her, his lips capturing hers in a drowning kiss, smothering the cries she wasn’t aware of making, his hands caressing her breasts, her hips, her thighs, as if he couldn’t get enough of touching her.
“Relax, sweetheart,” Jack urged. “You’re doing beautifully.” She arched against him, bringing him even deeper into her tight sheath. “That’s it, arch your lovely body, give all of yourself to me.”
Moira couldn’t have held back even if she wanted to. Her body no longer worked in accordance with her wishes. It was attuned to Jack and the incredible things he was doing to her. When she began to shudder and gyrate in a frenzy of need, Jack groaned, grasped her buttocks and drove powerfully, embedding himself to the hilt. To Moira it seemed as if he had been holding himself in check until her own climax began, for the moment she cried out and burst into flames, Jack drove into her once, twice, stiffened and gave a hoarse shout. Then he collapsed against her, breathing hard, his chest pumping furiously.
After a few moments, he pushed himself away and settled down beside her, one arm flung across his eyes. “Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“You didn’t hurt me,” Moira said, waiting expectantly for the explosion she knew would surely come. She didn’t have long to wait.
Raising himself up on one elbow, Jack nailed her with his silver gaze. “What else did you lie about? Have you told me the truth about anything? Damn you! Didn’t you think I’d know a virgin when I encountered one?”
Moira flinched beneath the fury of Jack’s implacable anger. She deserved it, she supposed, but she owed him no explanation. Since there was nothing she could say, she remained mute.
Her silence only served to fuel Jack’s rage. “Well, have you nothing to say for yourself? You’ve never had a lover, have you?”
When she refused to look at him, he jerked her upright to face him. Moira looked into the silver inferno of his eyes and knew a moment of panic. “I never had a lover, and I never wanted you to find out this way.”
He gave her an angry shake. “Damn you! Who are you? What were you doing out on the street that night I ran you down?”
“I told you, my name is Moira O’Toole. I’m a domestic servant. I didn’t want to lie, but I was desperate.”
“Obviously,” Jack said with scathing contempt. “Had I known you were a virgin, I would never have touched you.” That wasn’t entirely true, Jack allowed as he silently contemplated his hunger for her. He seriously doubted Moira’s virginity would have made the slightest difference in what happened tonight. This precise moment had been preordained since the day he’d brought Moira into his home. “You owe me an explanation, Moira.”
“I don’t owe you a thing, Jack Graystoke! I told you long ago I absolved you of all responsibility for me. I should have never agreed to stay and engage in this charade.”
“’Tis too late now to change what happened. What’s done is done. Since marrying you myself is out of the question, and I can’t afford a mistress, ’tis my duty to see you properly wed. And that doesn’t mean to Percy Renfrew.”
“His offer was honorable,” Moira spat out indignantly.
“That’s how much you know! His parents gave him an ultimatum: He either had to marry or be disinherited. His reputation is so disreputable that no respectable woman would have him. He was growing desperate until you came along.”
“There are other men,” Moira reminded him.
“Ah, yes, your other suitors. None of them will do. While you remain in my care, you’ll marry someone I approve of. The season is far from over, and there are better prospects than those macaroni dandies.”
Moira stared at him, wondering if he was being obstinate because he genuinely cared what happened to her or for some ulterior motive she knew nothing about. After what happened between them tonight, she’d be wise to leave this house as fast as her legs could carry her. But where would she go? She’d need to steal money to get back to Ireland, and after her experience with the Mayhews, stealing held no appeal for her. She was already a wanted woman.
Suddenly Moira became aware that Jack’s attention was focused on her breasts and she tried to cover herself with her hands, realizing she was fully exposed and vulnerable to his inspection. Jack stared at her, arrested, his searing gaze shifting downward from her breasts over the gentle rise of her hips to the tangled triangle of red curls between her legs. His breath caught in his throat and his shaft hardened instantly, rising in splendid erection.
Moira couldn’t tear her eyes from that male part of him as she recalled the pleasure it had given her short moments ago. When he reached out and pulled her against him, she felt brittle enough to shatter. She knew what he wanted—and what she wanted as well—and feared she was following Jack to perdition.
“Sweet Virgin Mary,” Moira cried out, swept into the turbulence of his passion.
A bubble of laughter gurgled from Jack’s throat as he bore her down on the bed, covering her with his body. But laughter fled abruptly as his face grew stark and tense with hunger and his eyes became shards of pure silver. “I want you again, Moira.”
Before Moira could form an answer, he rose gracefully, dipped a cloth into the water pitcher resting on a nearby table and returned swiftly to her side. Moira gave a gasp of shock as he spread her legs and proceeded to wash away traces of blood and seed. When he finished, he tossed the cloth aside, lay down beside her and kneaded her breast gently with his palm. Before leaning over to kiss her, he whispered, “You have the kind of beauty that leads men to madness. I knew you were pure temptation the moment I laid eyes on you.”
His lips teased her mouth with soft brushing kisses, then moved down her neck and over her tender breasts until he found the crests he sought. His mouth hungrily began to caress the pouting tips, coaxing them to stiff points of raw pleasure. With a will of their own, her fingers grasped his dark head, holding it closer, so she could experience more of those exquisite sensations coursing through her. All concern that he was using her to assuage his lust was momentarily forgotten. Gone were her maidenly objections; shyness had fled the instant he touched her intimately. She wanted his kisses, needed his caresses, craved his hands and lips on her body.
“I don’t care who or what you are, sweetheart,” Jack groaned against her mouth. “The need to be inside you is a sickness that only your sweet flesh can heal.”
A slow, deep yearning began to creep through her, forcing her to acknowledge her own growing need. And when Jack’s mouth began a trail of fire down her
body, she trembled in anticipation and arched into him, feeling his heat, savoring the hot, pungent scent of his arousal. His mouth continued its downward path and Moira gasped in dismay when she realized where he was headed. She tried to push him away, but he held her hips in place as he lowered his mouth to taste her honeyed sweetness.
Moira jerked reflexively, shocked to the core. “Jack! Don’t!”
Reluctantly, Jack desisted, realizing she was much too innocent to enjoy the more intimate loving he sought. “Very well, but one day you’ll let me love you this way.”
“Never!” Moira vowed.
Jack gave her a cheeky grin and rose above her, but instead of covering her with his body as he did before, he abruptly changed positions and lifted her atop him. Moira uttered a strangled gasp as he slowly lowered her onto his erection.
“Am I hurting you?” Jack asked, his restraint slowly unraveling. In his memory Moira was the only woman who made a mockery of his reserve. He’d always prided himself on his ability to maintain control at all times, but with Moira he was like an eager boy with his first woman.
Moira felt herself stretching, filling, but there was no pain, only a feeling of being possessed more fully than she ever thought possible. “You’re not hurting me.”
Her words seemed to release a demon inside him as he flexed his hips and thrust sharply upward. He took her hard and fast, swift and deep, loving her with the fury of one driven by desperation—the desperation of knowing their paths were never meant to cross. That they had met at all was due to a meddling ghost.
Moira felt a melting sensation deep inside her. Her own body was beyond her control, she reflected with one of the few rational thoughts left to her. Then all rationality fled as her head jerked forward and the air left her lungs on a low keening wail. Jack continued to move inside her while she felt herself begin to tremble, the shattering sensation spreading upward and outward from the point of his deepest penetration. Jack waited until her chin dropped to her chest before giving free rein to his own explosive climax.