Captain Jack's Woman (20 page)

His knowing fingers searched and found all her points of passion, those particular areas where she was most sensitive. The lower curve of her buttocks quickly became his favorite—she heated in an instant at the lightest caress. Anything more definite brought a moan to her lips. Satisfied she was safe from any chill, Jack gathered her to him, pressing her slim length to him, from shoulder to knee. But before he could roll her beneath him, he was seduced by the sensation of hot silken skin sliding sensuously over him.

Kit responded instinctively to the novel texture of Jack’s body. She’d never felt anything like it before. Consumed by curiosity, she rubbed her soft thighs against his rough hardness, marveling at the friction of his hair against her skin, at the contrast between his lean muscle and her yielding flesh.

She sensed the hiatus in Jack’s attention and assumed it was her turn to explore. She’d made her decision; there was no reason to shortchange herself. Whatever penance she’d pay would be the same. Opening her eyes, she spread her hands across his chest and wondered at the width of the muscles that spanned it. She glanced into Jack’s face and found his eyes shut, his jaw set, his lips thin.

Smiling, she moved her hands lower and watched the tension in his face, his whole frame, grow. Tentatively, she reached for him, taking him between her hands as she had two nights before. Her fingers moved up the throbbing shaft and found the rounded head. A bead of moisture clung to her fingers.

Jack’s control snapped. He forgot all thoughts of slow mutual torture, consumed by the need to douse the flames she’d set raging through him. His heat needed hers to come to fruition. In one smooth move, he pulled her beneath him, coming over her to settle on his elbows.

Kit’s gasp was lost as Jack’s mouth took hers in a relentless plunder of her senses. His ringers laced through her curls, holding her head steady while he ravished her mouth, sending heated longing down every nerve. His hips were heavy on hers, pressing her into the bed. She welcomed his weight and wanted more but he ignored her tugging. She felt him shift slightly, then his hand slipped between them to expertly caress the soft flesh between her thighs. Kit moaned and opened to his fingers, her breath catching as they slid slowly into her. She felt his thumb flick against her and sparks flew. The furnace deep within her ignited.

His hand withdrew and she frowned and shook her head, too breathless to find words to protest. She writhed, searching mindlessly for fulfillment. Then she felt his thighs press heavily between hers, nudging them farther apart. Smooth, hard pressure eased her aching flesh.

That
was what she wanted. Kit moaned and tilted her hips in instinctive invitation.

Despite the mists of lust clouding his mind, Jack’s faculties still functioned. They registered the unexpected tension in the ligaments of Kit’s thighs and passed the information on.

With an effort, Jack drew his lips from Kit’s. His head bowed, he drew a deep breath, then shook his head to clear it of the irritating niggle that was threatening to spoil his evening. But that only made the evidence more obvious. Dammit! It was as if she’d never spread her legs before. He frowned, and Kit moaned impatiently. Jack shook aside his ridiculous fancy. The woman writhing in urgent entreaty beneath him had most assuredly been this way before. He flexed his hips and entered her, slowly, letting her heat welcome him, the slickness of her arousal smoothing his way.

Three inches in, the truth hit him like a sledgehammer.

Jack froze. In stunned disbelief, he stared at the woman lying naked in his arms, her creamy skin flushed with passion, her features rapt, her mind centered on the place where their bodies joined. He could feel her tightening about him, even though he was barely inside her.

“Christ!” Jack dropped his head, his jaw resting on her cheekbone.

Kit opened her eyes, bewildered and bemused.

Jack didn’t look at her. He couldn’t. “Kit, are you a virgin?”

Her silence was answer enough, but he needed to hear it, incontrovertible, from her lips. “Dammit, woman!
Are you?
”

Kit’s soft “Yes,” was drowned by Jack’s groan. She felt him tense; his body went rigid. Then, slowly, he drew away.

The effort nearly killed him, but Jack forced his body to compliance. He pulled out of her clinging heat, then abruptly sat up and swung his feet to the floor. He dropped his head in his hands, shutting out the temptation to look at her. If he did, he’d lose the battle with his body, which was already in flaming rebellion.

He had to think. It wasn’t just that she was a virgin and he’d long ago given up deflowering the little dears. There was something more significant about the fact. With a groan, he struggled to summon his wits from their preoccupation with attaining a goal he was no longer sure it was safe to gain.

Kit frowned at the broad back, which was all of Jack she could see. Something had given her away, but with passion beating steady in her veins, she was in no mood to pander to any peculiar rakish whim. She’d learned from her cousins that virgins were not the favored fare of rakes, the consensus being that experienced women gave better value besides being free of potential complications. It was too bad if Jack subscribed to such nonsense. He’d brought her this far; she’d be damned if she’d leave his bed untried.

When he gave no sign of coming to his senses and instantly returning to her arms, Kit sat up. Apparently, if she wished to get his mind back where she wanted it, and his body along with it, she was going to have to make her wishes plain.

She came up on her knees on the bed close behind him. Slowly, she placed her hands on his back, spreading the fingers wide, then sliding them around, pushing under his arms until she’d reached as far as she could. She clung to him, pressing her breasts, her hips, against his back, her fingers sinking into the deep muscles of his chest.

Jack stiffened. His head came up; his hands dropped, clenched, to his knees.

Kit nuzzled his neck, and whispered softly in his ear. “Jack? Please? Someone has to do it. I want it to be you.”

The thought that this was the first time in his entire career he’d felt at a disadvantage in a bedroom floated through Jack’s fevered brain. He couldn’t think with her so close, in her present state. There was something important about her being a virgin that he should have grasped, but the elusive fact slipped further away as Kit laid her cheek against his shoulder.

“Jack? Please?”

What man of flesh and blood could resist such a plea? He certainly couldn’t.

With a sigh of defeat, Jack pushed aside the disturbing conviction that he was about to commit an irrevocable act which would seal his fate forever, and turned. Kit was right behind him, waiting, her expression anxious.

Her heart in her mouth, Kit met Jack’s gaze, smoldering silver fire. Would he? When his eyes held hers, as if trying to see beyond the passion of the moment, her confidence faltered. Her arms dropped to her sides. The silver gaze fell to her parted lips, then to her breasts, rising and falling rapidly, and finally, to the auburn curls between her widespread thighs.

Jack groaned and took her to the sheets, turning her into his arms. “Hell only knows, Kit Cranmer, but you’re the most wanton virgin I’ve ever known.”

It was the last lucid thought either of them had. Their lips met in a frenzy of need, too long denied to be gentle. The fire of their passion engulfed them, obliterating any lingering reservations. When Jack swung over her, Kit accepted his weight eagerly, her hands kneading his back in frantic entreaty.

Eyes closed, savoring the feel of her slim body arching against his, Jack grimaced. She was going to try his control as it had never been tried before. “Bend your knees up. It’ll make it easier.”

Kit complied with the rough command, too far gone in longing to be concerned over the intimate and vulnerable position. She felt his fingers part her, then hardness, smooth and solid, entered her. The pressure built as he pushed farther, inexorably inward, forcing her heated flesh to yield him passage. There was no pain, but she felt the tension when he abutted the barrier that marked her incontrovertibly virgin. To her dismay, he pulled back. Kit clamped her muscles tight to hold him within her.

Braced above her, he gave a chuckle that changed halfway through to a groan. “Relax.”

Passion permitted her a spurt of resentment. Relax? He might have done this countless times before, but he knew she was a novice. Did he have any idea what it felt like, to have him invading her body in such an intimate way? At the thought, Kit pressed her head back into the pillow. She moaned, with relief, with anticipation, as she felt him return, surging up to the barrier, only to stop and retreat again.

Gradually, as he repeated the motion, Kit caught his rhythm. Instinctively, she matched it, tightening as he withdrew, relaxing as he entered. Even through her slickness, she could feel the friction in her flesh. A flame of a different sort grew steadily, ripples of tension concealed within it.

Jack’s groan was encouraging. He dropped from his elbows, the pressure of his chest soothing her aching breasts. Kit hugged him to her. Her lips sought his, every bit as fervent as he. Her breath was suspended when his tongue delved deep. The sensation that streaked through her was quite different now that he was inside her. Her tension built. She felt her body arch hard against his, her hips lifting, searching. One large hand pushed under her until it cradled her buttocks. At the limit of his next outward movement, the long fingers slipped between her thighs, to the point of their union. And pressed.

Kit came off the bed, arching wildly in the grip of a passion she’d no hope of controlling. In desperate need of air, she dragged her lips from Jack’s, pressing her head back into the pillows. She felt him thrust powerfully and a fiery pain flared inside. Her fingers dug into his back as he plunged deep into her body. Abruptly, the pain of his invasion disappeared in an explosion of delicious release, her tension peaking and overflowing in intense ripples through her straining muscles, the flames he’d stoked transforming pain to pleasure.

It took some minutes before Kit’s mind registered anything beyond the warmth left behind by the flames. They continued to flicker, drawing her back to reality and the fact that. Jack was holding still, his cheek pressed hard against her hair, his breathing a ragged, desperate sound by her ear. Her senses returned and she felt the steady throb of him, deep against her womb.

It was torture of the most exquisite sort, but Jack held still, every muscle clenched with the effort. He should have expected it. The damn woman had done everything she could to bring him low so of course she’d climax at just that moment. As their heartbeats mingled, the tension of her release dwindled. Her body’s instinctive response to his invasion subsided as her muscles adapted to the novelty of having him buried inside her. When her hips tilted slightly, experimentally, as if to draw him deeper, he released the breath he’d been holding and started to move.

Kit responded immediately, caught by the discovery of how easily he rode her now that there was no barrier holding him back. His lips returned to hers and she accepted his kiss eagerly, her body straining against his as sensation washed through her. The tight buds of her nipples brushed his chest, over and over. With something very like awe, she felt that odd tension burgeoning once more, swelling and growing and expanding within her.

Jack released her lips, his breathing labored. His thrusts rocked her; she urged him on, her hips meeting his, her hands urgent on his back.

“
Jack!
” Kit’s breath caught on a sob.

Her second climax overtook her, hurling her into the limbo of lovers. She was deaf to Jack’s triumphant shout as he followed her.

Firelight filled the room with shifting shadows, gilding the heavy musculature of Jack’s back as he stood at the end of the bed and stared, frowning, at the woman curled naked under the sheet.

The vision of how she’d looked, sprawled, sated and at peace beneath him, shook him. It took no effort to conjure up the rosy-tipped breasts, firm and proud, the tiny waist and those hips that had defeated him under the tree. And her legs—long and slender, thighs firm and strong from riding. She’d given him the ride of his life. He glanced down, and was relieved to see the memory hadn’t stirred him beyond mild interest. She was exhausted—more from her own excesses than his. He’d no plans to mount her again that night.

Jack took a long sip of brandy from the glass in his hand. She’d fallen asleep virtually instantaneously the first time. He’d held her cradled in his arms, tired but not ready to sleep, prey to an emotion he couldn’t define. He’d forgotten it when she’d stirred. Her lids had fluttered, then opened wide, the amethyst eyes large and shining. He’d been watching, interested to see her reaction. Having been in the same position often before, he’d been prepared for anything from shocked reproaches to smug self-satisfaction. He hadn’t been prepared for the smile of dazzling beauty that had lit her face, or the warm tenderness in her eyes. And even less prepared for the kiss she’d bestowed on him.

His body had reacted with a vengeance. His control in abeyance, he’d been unable to rein in the passion that had flared. When her fingers had touched him, stroked him, he’d been rigid and ready for her. He’d heard her chuckle, delighted with his response as she continued to caress him.

“You fool! You’ll be sore enough as it is.”

She’d only laughed, a low, husky, mind-numbing sound that had frazzled his good intentions. “I’m not sore at all.”

He’d lain on his back and tried to ignore her. She’d come over him, her breasts brushing his chest, to kiss him long and lingeringly, exploring his mouth as he had hers. His control had been in tatters by the time she’d drawn back to whisper against his lips: “I want you Jack. Inside me. Now.”

How he’d remained still in the face of such an invitation he’d never know. But she hadn’t been defeated. “I’m hot and wet for you, Jack. See?” And the brazen woman had caught his hand and guided his fingers to where her warm honey was spilling onto her thighs.