Desire and Deception (12 page)

She felt his fingers in her hair, searching for the pins, removing them one by one. When the golden mass fell heavily down her back, Lauren shut her eyes and tried not to think of what was to come.

"Your hair is lovely," he murmured.
"Like spun gold."
He stroked the shining tresses, glorying in the silken texture and the elusive scent that teased his faculties. Slowly then, he drew Lauren back against his chest, shifting her till she rested in the crook of his arm.

Gazing down at the delicate oval of her face, Jason drank in her beauty. He would never get his fill of looking at her, he decided. With unsteady fingers, he traced the line of her jaw and then the full coral lips. Her eyes were still shut tightly when he lowered his head to capture her mouth.

Lauren shivered as his tongue rippled over her lips, teasing, coaxing,
playing
upon hers. And when it parted her lips to slide between her teeth, she fought the overwhelming urge to leap off his lap. His kiss was having the same startling effect on her as before—leaving her dazed and breathless.

Jason felt her resistance and lifted his head to gaze down at her, his blue eyes caressing her, amused. "You've never even been kissed, have you?" he asked tenderly. When Lauren shook her head, Jason laughed softly. "Lord, you must have been raised in a convent. No man in his right mind could resist kissing you, given half a chance."

He regretted the words at once, for her wariness returned before she turned her head away. Although he was still holding her, Jason felt her withdrawal almost physically, and realized he had lost almost all the ground he had gained.

He settled his palm against her cheek, turning her face back to his. "You promised me the night, Cat-eyes," he chided. "So far you haven't been very accommodating."

Reminded of their agreement, Lauren gazed up at him. Did a hundred pounds give him the right to demand anything of her? "What . . . what do you want me to do?"

"Lie still and don't fight me. I'm merely going to kiss you." He bent his head then, catching the soft flesh of her earlobe between his lips. After teasing it for a moment, he abandoned her ear to blaze a trail of soft, nibbling kisses to her mouth.

"Give me your mouth, sweetheart." Lauren had no chance to comply, for he kissed her without waiting for her response. The touch of his lips was gentle but firm as he set about wooing her senses. Lauren's heartbeat quickened when his tongue delved into her mouth, but Jason's arms came around her like iron bands, stilling any protest she might have made.

She proved to be no match for his determined expertise. In only a short while, he had conquered her resistance and was purposefully attacking the defensive barrier she had erected against him. His lips moved possessively over hers, while his tongue intimately probed and caressed the recesses of her mouth.

Dazed and quivering, Lauren only vaguely realized when his passion threatened to rage out of control. He was kissing her hungrily. . . . No, he was savoring her. And to her dismay, she found herself enjoying the taste of him and wanting more. A delicious lassitude stole over her limbs, as desire, unfamiliar and inescapable, flooded the rest of her body.

She thought he must be feeling the same desire, for she heard Jason groan, a low
gutteral
moan deep in his throat. Yet she was too caught up in the spiraling heat his kiss was evoking to analyze the primitive sound.

His kiss held her entranced as he eased the bodice of her gown from her shoulders, then loosened the ribbon of her chemise. When the delicate lawn fell away and her thrusting breasts were bared to his gaze, Jason sucked in his breath.

Seeing where his flaming eyes were fastened, Lauren tried defensively to cover her nakedness with her arms. But one of her hands was trapped against his muscular chest, and Jason captured the other and held it at her side.

"You have beautiful breasts," he murmured, measuring the lush fullness with molten azure eyes.

Her face flushing with embarrassment, Lauren tried unsuccessfully to free herself from his imprisoning grasp. He was assessing the rose-hued areolas as if he meant to devour them. Then brazenly, he reached up to circle her right nipple with the tip of a finger. Lauren gasped as a bolt of unexpected pleasure shot through her.

"Beautiful and perfectly formed. I like full breasts on a woman."

"Why?" she said distractedly, trying to concentrate on anything but the traitorous feelings he was stirring in her body.

Jason smiled at her suspicious tone.
"Because they fit my hands well when I hold them . . . like so."
His hands were large and well shaped, with long fingers and a sprinkling of sun- lightened hair on the back. They bespoke his noble breeding, yet their work-roughened texture indicated that he hadn't spent a life of leisure. He cupped a thrusting breast in his calloused palm, his thumb just barely touching the quivering nipple.

Lauren clenched her teeth at the unbelievable sensation the
featherlight
pressure elicited. She hadn't realized her breasts were so sensitive, but the nipple had immediately hardened in response to his touch.

"And they taste good when I take them into my mouth . . . like so." Jason lowered his head as he spoke, closing his lips over the tip of one breast.

Lauren nearly bolted out of the chair as his moist tongue flicked the coral bud, but she found herself held immobile as he bent her back over his arm, leaving her breasts totally at his mercy.

A shocking
warmth invaded her body as he plied and teased and coaxed the right nipple to a diamond-hard point, then lavished the same attention on the left. Lauren let out a strangled gasp as he suddenly nipped the taut bud with his teeth, then soothed the throbbing ache he created with his lips. She thought she must be mad to allow him the freedom to do such things to her, but she couldn't seem to find the will or even the voice to protest.

It was only when Jason began to hike up the flowing silken folds of her gown and his hand began to slowly wander upward along her thigh that she suddenly realized what he was doing.

"No!" she gasped when his hand found the golden, downy triangle between her legs. "Please . . . you shouldn't."

"Be still, sweetheart, let me love you."

His whispered entreaty confused her.
Love?
What did he mean? No one had ever loved her like this. Lauren stared at Jason, searching the vivid blue of his eyes.

Seeing the confusion on her beautiful face, Jason felt his heart swell. She would be happy with him, he vowed. He would see to it that she never regretted this night, this sudden intervention of fate. For himself, he needed no ceremony to bind them together. The tenderness he felt for her was, at this moment, burgeoning in his heart, so much so that he thought it might burst.

"Ah, sweetheart, what a coil this is," he murmured. "It is no trick I am playing when I say I want you. I do, with all my heart. I want you to be my wife, my mistress, the mother of my children, my dearest love."

His words stirred turmoil in Lauren's heart. She would never love anyone. Loving meant pain and degradation and loneliness—a truth that her mother had discovered to her sorrow. Elizabeth
DeVries
had been trusting and innocent once, before Jonathan Carlin had used her for his own selfish purposes.

"A possession, you mean," Lauren replied bitterly, remembering the hardship and pain her mother had endured, the deprivation and shame she herself had endured.
"A slave, a prisoner."

Jason's brows drew together. "Who has been filling your head with such nonsense?"

When she didn't answer, he leaned his head back against the chair and spoke quietly, the smooth timbre of his voice playing on her senses like a soft melody. "There are such marriages, no doubt, but that has never been my idea of happiness. Imagine, Cat-eyes, a union of two people.
A union of souls, of minds.
A husband and wife who are partners, lovers, friends.
A man and woman who share a single heart.
They are bound to each other, yes, but by trust and affection and passion. It could be that way between us, sweetheart."

Lauren felt herself being lulled by the velvet texture of his voice, enveloped by the warmth of his embrace. For a moment, she even allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to be married to such a powerful, persuasive man. She couldn't remember being held by anyone the way Jason was holding her now, with tenderness and reassurance. It was strange the way he made her feel cherished and protected.

He couldn't be involved with Burroughs, she decided. Not after saying such things to her. Even so, she would never have the opportunity to discover if such a marriage was possible.

As if he could read her thoughts, Jason buried his fingers in the silken mass of her hair and bent his head. His warm breath fanned her cheek as he held her gaze. "Give me the right to show you, my heart," he whispered.

Watching her, he saw the gold-flecked eyes darken with distress, saw the conflicting emotions flicker across the pale, oval face, and his chest ached with the need to comfort her. Diamond drops of tears sparkled on her lashes, and Jason bent to kiss them away before he began to rain gentle kisses over her face, her brow,
her
lips.

He gathered her more closely in his arms then, driven by the single purpose of making love to the beautiful girl in his embrace. His lips cajoled, demanded, pleaded, while his hands communicated wordlessly, expressing need and promising exquisite pleasure in return.

Lauren was dismayed to feel herself surrendering to him, to the vital power that was such an integral part of him, yet when Jason kissed her, she opened her mouth to him, and after a moment, threaded her arms about his neck.

Feeling her trembling response to his rising passion, he resumed his assault on her innocence, letting his hand glide along a silken thigh, stroking and caressing. Lauren stiffened when his fingers claimed the golden curls that hid her womanhood, hut his arousing kisses had stolen her breath away, preventing her from uttering a protest. Halfheartedly, she pushed against Jason's shoulders, trying to escape the aching warmth that was dazing her senses, yet wanting to surrender to it.

Jason's own pulse leapt wildly when Lauren squirmed in his lap. With her hips grinding against his thighs, her feminine softness was making him wildly feverish, driving him beyond the bounds of caution. He ached with wanting her, ached in every part of his body. Every muscle, every nerve throbbed with fire. But he inhaled a ragged breath, and forced himself to go slowly.

"Trust me, sweetheart. I won't hurt you." His velvet-edged voice was huskier than hers, Lauren noted vaguely, before Jason began a new agony, slowly stroking her with warm, insistent fingers, arousing a throbbing tension inside her, between her thighs.

Lauren clutched his shoulders, her tight grip betraying her fear of the wondrous sensations he was creating within her. She could feel the corded muscles rippling beneath his lawn shirt, but somehow the sinewy hardness of body only excited her more. Her head fell back in surrender.

Not only a warlock,
she
thought dazedly, but a magician. His skillful, knowing fingers were working magic.
And his mouth.
His mouth was like a hot brand, setting her on fire. It traced a flaming path down her throat to the ripe swells of her breasts, reverently kissing a rounded crest before tugging at the nipple and intensifying the burning heat in her belly and loins. And all the while his fingers were slowly exploring and tormenting her. Lauren could only writhe helplessly in his arms, her heart racing as she clung to him.

Jason felt lightheaded with triumph as she arched her hips against him, straining for a release she didn't know existed. He stroked with increased urgency, willing her to experience her first taste of passion. His own head was spinning dizzily as his fingers plied the sensitive, feminine flesh, making her breath come in ragged gasps that matched his rhythmic movements.

The heat continued to build. Lauren whimpered, feeling as if she were drowning in a hot, churning sea of sensation. Desperately, she tangled her fingers through Jason's tawny hair, gripping tightly. The fire seemed to gather in a tight central core deep within her, building and building. . . . Then suddenly it exploded in all directions, sending flames shooting throughout her body.