Breathless and almost frightened by the dizzying excitement that shot up through her body as he remained there between her slim thighs, nuzzling and lightly exploring, Morgana reached for him, her fingers tangling in the thick, tawny hair, urging him upward, Lifting his head, he glanced up questioningly, his golden eyes bright and burning with desire. Shy suddenly and, with her gown ruched up about her waist, embarrassed by her near nakedness, she flushed and stammered, “S-S-Stop! What are you doing to m-m-me?”
Smiling crookedly, he dropped a brief kiss where the curly hair met her lower abdomen. “I hoped I was giving you pleasure. . . wasn’t I?”
She swallowed with difficulty, her eyes very big in her delicate face. “Yes,” she admitted huskily, “b-b-but it feels so ... so ... it frightens me—as if my body isn’t my own, as if some depraved creature has entered me.”
His smile grew very wicked. “A creature that is also wildly abandoned in my arms, I should hope,” he teased lightly, and levering himself up slightly, he kissed her softly on the mouth. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t let anything happen to you... .” Glancing at her slender, half-naked body, his gaze traveling inch by inch over her long, slim legs upward until he was looking down into her lovely features, his eyes darkened and he said thickly, “Oh, but, sweetheart, there are so many ways to make love, so many ways to give each other pleasure... .”
Her mouth tingling from his kiss, his hand scorching her flesh where it rested lightly on her belly, she could only stare up at his lean features, wanting precisely the same thing that he did, but too uncertain of herself, too new to his lovemaking, to baldly admit it. Instead, her arms crept around his neck, and burying her face between the lapels of his robe, she kissed him sensually at the base of his neck, where his pulse beat strongly.
Royce groaned, feeling her sweet kiss burning through his big body like wildfire, and his fingers clenched urgently against her belly. His lazy manner gone, with far more haste than he had shown so far, he divested her of her gown, tossing it violently away. With fingers that shook, he tore open the belted knot at his waist and in a feverish haste, whipped out of his robe, mad to be rid of his own clothing, wanting no barriers to separate his body from hers.
Hungrily his mouth fastened on hers, and kissing Morgana with all the unbridled passion within him, he jerked her to him, molding her slender curves next to his hard, muscled length. His hands urgently cupped her buttocks, holding her firmly against the throbbing force of his achingly full member. The touch of her warm, yielding flesh pressed eagerly next to his filled him with such fierce desire, such overwhelming tenderness, that he shuddered with the powerful emotions that twined and twisted within him. Again and again he kissed her, his probing tongue delving deeper and deeper into her mouth, utterly permeating the dark confines of her mouth with the taste and texture of him. Kissing soon wasn’t enough to appease the increasingly frantic hunger that raged through him, and driven by the demands of his body, he rubbed sinuously against her, pleasuring and exciting both of them by his blatantly erotic movements.
Wildly adrift in a rising sea of primitive sensation, Morgana clung to him, kissing him back with wanton shamelessness, and as she arched her slim body into his, blind, elemental desire, as potent and intoxicating as wine, trapped her and made her a willing captive to his demands. Her breasts, crushed into the thick hair of his chest, ached, and her nipples had grown tight and swollen, the sweet friction of her body sliding against his making her almost giddy from the emotions that spiraled with growing urgency through her. She wanted him, wanted the fierce pleasure of his mouth and hands everywhere on her body, desperately craved the touch of his lips and tongue at her breast, the feel of his warm hands exploring her intimately.
Royce shifted slightly, one heavy thigh slipping between hers, and his knee bumping gently, deliberately, against the highly sensitized flesh at the juncture of her legs, he drove her half-wild with his teasing motions. She knew he was aroused, she could feel the swollen length of him crushed between their twisting bodies, and yet beyond the mind-drugging kisses he gave her and the restless movements of his hands across her back and buttocks, he made no attempt to explore further. Her body stingingly alive, the pulsating ache in her loins nearly intolerable, she caught his encroaching thigh between her legs and pushed down frantically, seeking release from the passionate demands that held her in thrall.
Groaning his delight at her actions, Royce’s mouth left hers and sought the aching tips of her breasts. She tasted like nectar, and like a starving man, he suckled and pulled at her hard little nipples, his teeth lightly scraping against the responsive skin.
She was already totally aroused, and the touch of his lips and teeth on her breasts was nearly her undoing as she arched up wildly into his mouth, offering herself freely, her body trembling as pleasure flooded through her. His arm slid under her, and for mindless moments he held her to him, his mouth sweetly ravaging the tender flesh of her breasts, taking sensual gratification in the taste of her and the feverish twisting of her body. Unable to help herself, wanting to give him pleasure too, she reached for him, her small hand closing clumsily around him, marveling at her own wantonness and the size and heat of him.
He stiffened at her first tentative caress, and his mouth against her ear, he put his hand over hers and muttered, “No, sweetheart, this way ...” and he taught her the motion and way of it. His breathing ragged, his body responded with obvious enthusiasm to her touch.
Feeling his reaction, feeling the swell and pulsation of his flesh as she caressed him, Morgana was fascinated and excited at the same time. So fascinated, in fact, that when he reached for her once more, she gently pushed him away, wanted to concentrate fully on the havoc she was so fervently wreaking upon him. Royce let her have her way for the moment, and his face tight with desire, the golden eyes glittering with promises of sweet vengeance, he lay back against the mattress and let her do what she willed.
It was a tender torment he did not think that he could endure for very long, her slightest caress making him grit his teeth to keep from disgracing himself—something that she found highly diverting. Wondering if she realized how utterly seductive she was as she lounged there half sitting, half lying beside him, her intent gaze locked on a certain part of his anatomy as she explored the length and breadth of him, Royce tried desperately not to explode into a million shards of ecstasy. It was almost useless; her eager ministrations alone would have been sufficient to break the iron control he had of his body, but the sight of her jutting breasts, the nipples still swollen and rosy from his mouth, made him groan and reach for her again.
Startled when she felt his hands upon her, Morgana looked up, and the expression in his eyes stilled the protest on her lips. Her heart began to beat in thick, heavy strokes, and her body was suddenly awash with an intense eagerness to experience what she saw in his gaze. She met the hard crush of his mouth with her own, her mouth opening to accept the hungry thrust of his tongue. It was clear his indulgence was at an end as he rained passionately savage kisses on first her mouth and then her breasts. She was aching from the force of the desire he had incited within her when his lips deserted her nipples and began to travel slowly, inexorably, downward across her waist and belly to the black triangle of curls at the top of her thighs. Morgana could hardly breathe; her skin felt as if it were on fire, the blood thrumming so violently through her veins that the world receded completely when his open mouth found her. A soft, keening cry, half protest, half delight, broke from her as he parted her flesh and his tongue probed and brushed against the sweetness he found there. She burned from his touch, the thrusting caresses of his tongue inflaming her until she writhed like a wild thing on the bed, her head twisting from side to side.
Royce held her fast, deliberately allowing her no succor from the rapid stroke of his tongue. He could feel the tension growing within her slender body, and the demanding ache within his own grew until it was nearly unbearable. He wanted to seek relief, wanted to bury hi
mself fully within the soft, silken sheath of her, but more, he first wanted her to have the exquisite pleasure he sensed was only seconds away for her.
Morgana could not bear it any longer; the sheer carnal pleasure Royce was evoking from her frightened her, and she was even more frightened by the abandoned creature she had become, an abandoned creature who eagerly allowed him to do this wonderfully decadent act. Anxiety in her voice, she tugged frantically at his hair and cried, “Stop! Oh, please stop!”
His eyes glazed with passion, Royce gazed uncomprehendingly at her for a moment; then, realizing that she was frightened and suspecting that he was pushing her too far, too fast, he smiled twistedly and murmured ruefully, “Virgins! I’ve never had one before, sweetheart, so you’ll have to make allowances for me!” Moving up beside her, he pulled her into his arms; kissing her mouth and then her ear, he whispered, “I shall try not to shock you too much by the things that I want to do to you, but you are so damned delectable that I don’t know if I can help myself.”
He kissed her again, his hands curving possessively around her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples, effortlessly bringing her once more to the edge of ecstasy, and this time he did not hesitate—he could not; he had reached his own limits. Parting her thighs with his knees, he gently stroked her with his fingers, and then, with an exultant groan, he thrust into the tight heat of her.
Buried deeply within her, he felt Morgana wrap her arms fervently around him, her nipples pushing impudently against his chest. Royce kissed her passionately, the satiny clasp of her body around his rigid manhood hurling him instantly into a dark whirlpool of erotic delight. He had meant to savor this moment, had meant to make love to her slowly, lazily, but he could not, Morgana’s hips already moving in an anciently seductive motion that banished rational thought.
Ecstasy already spiraling up through her body from the moment he entered her, Morgana moved wildly beneath him, wanting him to drive into her, wanting his fiercest possession. Her mouth against his, she pleaded huskily, “Oh, please ... please love me!” She heard his guttural exclamation, almost a growl of assent, then nothing as his big body slammed into hers again and again, sending such an inferno of dazzling ecstasy exploding through her that she thought she would faint from the joy of it.
With savage satisfaction, Royce felt the pulsations that racked her, and freed now to find his own pleasure, in a frenzy to reach that desperately longed-for peak, he plunged more frantically into the velvety heat of her body. A second later, making no effort to hide the delight her body gave him, he shuddered violently and moaned softly as he found his own delirious release.
At peace for the moment from the demons that had driven them, they lay together, their bodies touching, Royce dropping butterfly-light kisses on her brow and the corner of her mouth, Morgana gently caressing his arm and thigh. Sleep came to Morgana first, but for a long time afterward, Royce simply held her slender body next to his, shaken by the emotions she made him feel.
Still greatly bewildered, but filled also with a powerful tenderness that he could not deny, he stared down at her sleeping body, marveling at her slender beauty as the candlelight played gently over her smooth, unmarked flesh.... He frowned suddenly, seeing for the first time the small, round scar on her hip. Rising up, he bent over and examined it more closely, his frown increasing as he realized it was a very old scar and clearly represented a crest of some sort. Now, why, he wondered darkly, would anyone have branded her in such a barbaric manner?
He was on the point of waking her to ask when there was suddenly a loud ruckus at the front of the house. Morgana jerked upright, sleep gone, even as Royce was leaping from the bed and flinging on his robe. Fearing another attack from the one-eyed man, he raced to his own room and snatched up the loaded pistol he now kept handy. Returning to Morgana’s room, he lit another candle, and motioning her to remain where she was, he stepped into the wide hall.
Zachary, armed with pistol and candle as he was, met him, and as the noise continued unabated and was obviously coming from the front door of the house, they leaped down the long, winding staircase. Chambers, his nightcap askew, a stout poker in one hand, was already at the front door demanding identification from the shouting people on the other side.
Royce recognized one of the voices, Jacko’s, and threw wide the door; Morgana’s oldest brother and a vociferously protesting gatekeeper immediately stumbled into the black-and-white-tiled foyer. It took a moment for Royce to reassure the burly gatekeeper that Jacko was an acquaintance, and then, turning to Jacko, he demanded, “What is it? What is wrong?”
His face strained, the blue eyes dark with fear, Jacko gasped, “It’s the one-eyed man! He betrayed us! Ben’s in Newgate!”
PART FOUR
Nemesis
Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceedingly small.
F. VON LOGAU, “Retribution”
CHAPTER 22
There was a brief, electric silence, and then it seemed as if everyone spoke at once, an urgent, wild babble suddenly filling the hall until Royce’s authoritative voice rose above it. “Quiet! And I mean quiet immediately!” he commanded, and silence fell. Looking at his butler, he said a trifle more calmly, “Chambers, go get some brandy and some glasses and bring them to the front salon. You did an excellent job,” Royce said to the gatekeeper, a muscular young fellow named Bullard. “I should have warned you about Morgana’s brothers. You can go now, and with my thanks for fulfilling your duties so commendably.” Looking across at Zachary, Royce added, “You will come with me and Jacko.”
Royce had been so intent upon calming the babble that he had forgotten Morgana—she’d had no intention of remaining meekly in the bedchamber while he went to confront possible danger, but she had been forced to waste precious seconds searching for the gown that Royce had carelessly tossed away earlier. Since the garment was almost transparent, and not knowing what she would face downstairs, she’d had to waste more time scrambling around for a robe.
It had taken her only moments, but heedless of Royce’s order to stay where she was, she had rushed to the top of the stairs and then stopped abruptly when she caught sight of Jacko. The fact that Jacko was alone didn’t actually impinge upon her consciousness; all she saw was that her brother was there and that Royce had events well in hand. “Oh, Jacko! It’s you!” she cried gladly, hurtling down the stairs like a small whirlwind, throwing herself into her brother’s arms.
Chambers and Bullard had barely turned away when Morgana appeared, and they both halted and glanced back in time to see Jacko sweep her into a hearty embrace. A hint of a smile on his face, Chambers continued on his way, but Bullard hesitated, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Morgana’s flushed, upturned face as she stared happily at Jacko. Clearing his throat nervously, Bullard finally dragged his blue eyes away from Morgana’s face, and looking at Royce, he said bluntly, “Sir. Think you should know that there was a fine gentleman just this afternoon nosing around the entrance.” An apologetic expression on his earnest features, he muttered, “He was real polite, but he asked a lot of questions, but being as how you had warned me to be careful of strangers, I didn’t answer him. I’m sorry to say that when he departed, I dismissed him from my mind—you are new to the area, and a lot of folk are just plain curious about the new owner.”
Royce’s face was grim as he listened to John Bullard’s words, but he wasn’t surprised. He had been expecting something like this to happen, but he was puzzled why young Bullard had chosen this moment to tell him about the incident.
Bullard enlightened him almost immediately. “He was an older man, but think you should know that he looked uncommonly like that young lady over there.”
Zachary, an almost avuncular grin on his handsome face, had been too busy watching Morgana and Jacko’s embrace to pay much attention to what Bullard had been saying to Royce, but he caught Bullard’s last words, and his grin vanished. Worry evident in his topaz eyes, his gaze met Royce’s. “Devlin! It had to
have been him!”
Royce shot him a black look, making it clear he didn’t want Zachary saying any more on the subject. Realizing his mistake and embarrassed by it, Zachary beat a hasty retreat, and turning to the oblivious Morgana and Jacko, he said quickly, “Let us go to the salon—Chambers will be back soon with the brandy, and if I know him, or rather, Ivy, probably some food to sustain us at this hour of the morning.”
After the trio had disappeared, Royce said to Bullard, “What’s done is done ... but in the future, I want to know instantly when anyone, man or woman, child or stripling, approaches you and begins to ask questions—no matter how unimportant their questions may seem. Now, precisely what did the gentleman ask you?”
A crestfallen expression on his face, Bullard replied instantly, “I can’t remember exactly, sir, but I recall that he wanted to know how many people were in the household, if you’d hired any local people, and did I know any of them. He was very friendly, and when he asked if I knew how long you would be staying here, I just guessed it was because he was curious about a newcomer—people in the country are interested in such things.” Shamefacedly he admitted, “I should have been more suspicious, especially after you warned us about strangers, but I just dismissed the gent as being nosy.” He frowned. “Now that I think of it, he did seem overly curious to know if there was a young lady staying with you, and he seemed to take quite an interest in the fact that the property was completely surrounded by the yew hedge. Seem to remember him asking me if the gateway was the only way into the property and if someone actually lived in the cottage there.” Bullard suddenly grinned. “It’s a good thing I hadn’t seen the young lady before or I might have given something away—they look so very alike.”
Whisper To Me of Love Page 35