Crimson Rapture (15 page)

Justin
laughed as he and Beau disappeared into the jungle. Halfway there, Beau caught
a fresh scent of something and ran off the path in chase. Justin watched him
go, knowing that, like everyone, his dog was getting tired of just fish.
Sometime soon he'd have to find time to set up a trap for one of the island's
wild boars.

Christina
shifted, becoming increasingly uncomfortable perched on the branch like a bird.
She looked at alternative branches but none looked any better. He would never
find her, but, just to be certain, she supposed she should wait until nightfall
to climb down. At least this would teach him that she would not be his willing
victim.

Her
gaze shifted back and forth between a colorful bird loudly chirping away and
the branch and leaves above her, searching for spiders. The bird abruptly took
flight and, as though sensing the cause, her gaze dropped to the ground and she
gasped. Without any warning, moving with that quiet grace and ease, he was just
there staring up at her and with that infuriating amusement.

Why
she felt like a foolish child with a guilty finger caught in the molasses jar
she couldn't say. Then, knowing he saw her as prey, she was suddenly washed in
the nervous excitement of a trapped animal. She would try stalling. "How
did you find me?"

"You
might do well to remember that I will always find you. Now get down."

She
couldn't tell if this was a request, order, or threat but it hardly seemed to
matter. "Not until you promise to leave me be."

"I
will never leave you be. And you're not in a position to bargain with me. Nor
will I repeat myself again—get down from there."

Her
eyes filled with sudden mischief and she shook her head, sending her long hair
tumbling over her shoulder. He chuckled suddenly and she shrieked as he simply
jumped up, grabbed on to a branch, and effortlessly pulled himself up. She scrambled
back from his reach and started to fall but his arms wrapped tightly around
her. She half screamed, half gasped as he swung down and dropped to the ground.

Justin
was about to take her by the arm and drag her away, exactly as he imagined
cavemen once led unwilling victims away, but to his utter surprise she was
fighting him. Fighting like a cat. He held her off the ground by hands that
wrapped completely around her small waist and he carefully kept her at arm's
length.

"Let
me go! Let—" she cried in a voice still soft despite the intensity of her
desperation and, with clenched fists, she struggled to pry loose his unyielding
hands, kicking furiously. "Loose me! Loose me or I'll—"

"Loose
you or you'll what?" he queried and rather too sweetly.

"Oh
you... you—" She could not think of cruel enough words. She renewed her
fight and sent fists into his chest, kicking her legs furiously. She was so
frantic she never even realized he was holding her off the ground.

Justin
just laughed and, seeing she was willing to exhaust herself, he pulled her
against him and stopped her struggles. She squirmed helplessly but he tightened
his hold. "You shouldn't waste your small strength like this, sweetheart.
You're going to need it for what's coming."

She
went limp in his arms all at once and flushed, somewhat breathless. She looked
up to confront that infuriating amusement in those sharp blue eyes. Small
strength indeed! She wasn't about to give up easily. She'd try pleading again
and if that didn't work—

"You
would force me against my will?" she asked softly.

Quite
suddenly he fought a different kind of battle. With her nearly unclad figure
against him, that long hair spilling wildly over his arms, and those large
pleading eyes... How could he—after making love to her all night, every
night—how could he want her so badly, so often, and with the intensity of their
first joining? He lowered his gaze to the rise and fall of her bosom pressing
against the thin material, then to her flushed face, her lips, and suddenly...

She
bit her mouth to stop from smiling. He was weakening, she knew, and,
maliciously, she pressed herself even closer. She reached a shy hand to his
shoulder. "Justin, you just don't know." She pretended distraction.
"It scares me so and, and I know I'll just die! Oh please don't make
me."

"Christina.
I—"

"Please?"
She pressed as she reached up on her toes to slide her arms around his neck.

Justin
suddenly swore, knew he had lost, and didn't care. He lifted her into his arms
and carried her around the trunk of the tree to what appeared to be a soft
cushion of moss. He lowered her, thinking only of how quickly he could get her
clothes off until—

Until,
unbelievably, he found himself staring into a look of triumph, a look that
spelled out just how she had just manipulated him. "Why, you little—"

It
was too late. Christina jumped to her feet and ran for her life, laughter
betraying her emotions. Stunned by what she had just done to him, Justin wasted
little time in giving chase. Only now he would show no mercy.

Christina
screamed as his merciless strong arms put a quick brake on her flight, and
before a cry could be called, he tossed her over his shoulder and began
carrying her to a certain devastating fate.

"No...
please!" She pounded impotent fists in to the broad expanse of his back.
"I'll drown, I know I'll drown!"

"I'm
not going to let you drown, if only to make you pay for playing me the
fool."

"I
will, though! I will! 'Tis unnatural for a woman!" she tired to explain
again. "I've never heard of a woman who could swim. I will drown and then,
then you'll be sorry!"

Justin
only laughed at this and, within a minute, they were at the side of the pond.
He still held her on his shoulder and with his free hand he removed his
breeches, seeing no reason why he should get them wet. He wished he could do
the same with her clothes but there would be no swimming lesson with her that
bare to his gaze.

He
stepped quickly into deep water where he knew she couldn't touch bottom and
brought her in front of him. He securely held her small frame to him but she
clung tightly to his neck, with not just a fear in her eyes now but near panic
too, as she anxiously looked over the water that surrounded them. She loved
bathing but only if she could touch bottom and she quite honestly believed women—by
some mysterious act of nature—could not in fact learn to swim.

"Please
don't let me go," she whispered.

"Never."
He saw the very real fear now and he brushed his lips over her forehead. She
had to trust him, to relax somewhat. "You know I would never let you see
harm, much less hurt you."

She
nodded reluctant acknowledgment. "But—"

"Shhh."
He stopped her protest before it could be uttered. "We are living on an
island surrounded by water and there are dozens of ponds. I can't be with you
all the time to make certain you don't fall in." He kissed her again.
"And I'm not going to lose you. Now trust me, sweetheart. It won't even be
hard."

It
seemed once again she had no choice. Once when she was but a child of eight,
her father, Madelyne, and herself went on a holiday, visiting her father's
friend in a distant parish. Madelyne had taken her to a lake for a picnic and
there she had witnessed a father teaching his son to swim. She would never
forget the boy's scream as his father quite literally tossed him in deep water
to sink or swim. The boy nearly drowned too; he splashed and splashed,
desperately trying to keep above water. It was actually Madelyne's frantic
cries that finally convinced the bewildered father that his boy was going to
sink rather than swim.

Her
own experience of being submerged beneath water and unable to breathe pressed
on her consciousness as well. She had imagined Justin tossing her into deep
water like that father had done to his son. But he did no such thing.

Justin
first showed her how to float. She was startled by this. She didn't even
realize the first time he slipped his hands from her and yet there she was—
floating on the surface of the water and effortlessly too! After a few times,
she came up laughing and, instantly, his hands were there to hold her up again.

He
showed her how the muscles in his body were too heavy and therefore prevented
him from floating. Yet he could still swim. She had a definite advantage, which
he taught her to use. Within a hour he had her gliding from the shallows to him
and back again. She began moving her arms and legs and soon she was swimming.

After
the longest distance, Christina stepped up on shore and turned back to him. Oh,
Justin." She smiled with a different kind of triumph. "It is fun! I
never thought I could do it... I thought... well, I just never knew it would be
so easy."

Justin
was hardly listening. After two short weeks, her petticoat had long since been
torn irreparably. All she wore was the chemise cut to a short skirt and, wet
now, it was transparent. Every ounce of her was revealed.

He
stepped back a few paces but then saw her apprehension. "Come on now, you
can do it," he encouraged. "This will be the last time."

She
bit her lip nervously, but with a courageous dip, she glided out and began
kicking and kicking and kicking. Just as she was about to panic, she felt his
hands reach under her arms and she was pulled safely to him. She came up
laughing, breathless and laughing, as she braced her hands against his broad
shoulders. But then his strong arms wrapped around her and he pulled her hard
against the smooth muscles of his body, shocking her with the hard swell of him
on her body.

Justin
chuckled lightly at her response, knowing somehow that no matter how many times
he made love to her, he would always see that look of innocent surprise at his
desire. Which had nothing to do with what followed, for in all his years never
had a woman's desire met his own like Christina's. It was all so unexpected
from her. Her innocence mixed with a hidden sensuality and, taken together, it
was an alarmingly potent mixture.

It
was just a moment but in that small space of time she was aware of everything.
The setting sun cast them in an unearthly glow and the cool water seemed to
warm in stages. She was aware of him, of the power and strength of the hands
gently caressing her back, of his gaze darkening with intensity and bearing
into her.

His
arms crossed over her back as his hands brushed through her wet hair. He pulled
gently, and her head tilted back with the offering of her lips, parted and
inviting.

Then
his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her with a raw animallike passion.
Their tongues met, played, teased. Her arms tightened around him to draw him
closer and, in acknowledgment, he pressed his mouth to hers even harder. Fire
swept through him as she yielded to the hunger of his kiss, her entire being at
once melting into him.

She
had not a thought, only feeling, emotions, sensations. His passion radiated
from his huge frame, engulfing her, then sweeping through her. Her blood raced
and her heart pounded; she was lost to him.

"God,
how I want you," he whispered, his lips brushing against hers, stopping to
catch, then gently biting hers. The feeling was definitely reciprocated but she
could not for her life speak through the force of all she felt. She wanted his
lips again and desperately but they were suddenly elusive, brushing over the
contours of her face, moving down along her neck.

She
closed her eyes, washed in sweet shivers of heated anticipation. His lips never
left her skin, except as he unraveled the laces of her chemise and pulled it
over her head. He tossed it to the shore. Through the veil of water he watched
a flush of anticipation rise visibly over her. He pulled her makeshift undergarments
from her legs, and these too were tossed to the shore.

Desire
burst into a crescendo of need. His hands came over her form, keeping her to
him while he caressed the inviting curves. Her flesh ignited beneath the hunger
of his hands and the insistence of his lips drank the moisture of her skin.

She
cried softly for him, arching her slender hips against him where he now held
her, lifting her higher. His lips traveled over her skin, sparking small
chills, yet she felt her blood would burn through her skin. His mouth found her
breast and he played there softly at first but then with a pressing hunger that
sent shudders through her.

Warmth
gushed through her in waves. The loving assault of his knowing hands and mouth
continued until she was crying, crying for all of him. He would not deny her.
His arms crossed over her back again, pinning her soft body to him, pressing
her breasts against the wide expanse of his chest, then lifting her legs around
his waist. She tensed as he parted her, felt a swirl of water rush into her
before he lifted her hips for his entry. She wrapped her arms and legs around
him tightly and cried softly as she felt the smooth hot pressure of him sliding
back and forth over her. That exquisite pleasure pulsated through her, rising,
cresting, falling, only to rise again and again.

He
finally answered her soft maddening cries and slipped long and hard into her.
Instantly he stopped, and for one long unbelievable moment, they clung to each
other desperately, startled by the intensity of feeling brought by their
joining. Then he shifted, moving with a deliberate slowness, lifting her all
the way from him before slowly filling her.