His Wicked Kiss (53 page)

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Authors: Gaelen Foley

BOOK: His Wicked Kiss
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He paused, resting his hands on his waist. The movement pulled back his black leather coat, revealing the lean lines of his body. “Good.”

“Trouble?” she asked softly, but he was staring at her as she sat on her bed, sensual hunger harshly carved into the angular lines of his face.

He turned away. “Perhaps.” It seemed he had just remembered his sworn vow not to chase her anymore. No, he had promised that next time, she would come to him. “Don’t be afraid. I’m back now. I saw no sign of anyone here. Good night.”

“But, Jack, what happened?”

“Someone was spying on us down at the warehouse. I thought it might be Ruiz.”

“And you came straight back here to protect me?” she murmured.

He snorted.

She sent him the trace of a pouty smile. “I thought you were miffed at me.”

“I am,” he said flatly, then he marched back out of her chamber to check the rest of the suite.

Eden frowned. She could hear him moving about, opening closet doors, locking windows. A pity, that, for the breezy spring night was a delicious temperature.

He didn’t come back.

She climbed languidly out of her bed and went to find him.

He was not in the sitting room, not in their little dining room, either. Their fancy parlor was empty, as well.

She found him in his chamber, sitting on his bed. His boots were planted on the floor and he slumped forward, his elbows resting loosely on his knees. An unlit cheroot dangled from his lips.

His stare tracked her with a glint of insolence as she ventured warily into the room. His hungry gaze could have burned a hole in the zephyr silk of her negligee.

He had taken off his black leather work coat and had thrown it on the chair.

“It’s stuffy in here. You checked already. Is it safe to open the door just a crack?”

He grunted, shrugging.

She went over and unlocked the French doors to his side of the balcony, and then opened them a few inches.

“Your maid wasn’t stealing.” His brusque murmur reached her while her back was turned. “She tried to seduce me.”

“What?” She spun around, wide-eyed.

“Yes, it’s shocking, isn’t it?” he drawled. “Some women actually do find me attractive.”

She took a few steps toward him, appalled. “What happened?”

“You were out with the garden ladies. She wanted to suck me off,” he added, leaning back slowly on his elbows on the bed, testing her with his insolence as he always did when he most needed her to reach him.

It was a nasty little trick of his that Eden had learned to spot. When he needed her most, he tended to push her away.

Contrary beast.

“Did you let her?” she asked stiffly.

“No, I fired her,” he said, then added in a cool tone: “The only one I want sucking my cock is you.”

She stared at him for a long moment, knowing he was baiting her. He was trying to shock her into a reaction, but all she could think was, how dare that woman try to take her man?

“So.” She sauntered closer. “You were faithful to me?”

“Aye. Even though you treat me like yesterday’s slops.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh, my sweet Lady Jay.” He turned weary. “Do you love me or not?”

She felt a pang in her heart at the question and gazed tenderly at him. If only she had realized he’d been feeling so unloved. He shouldn’t even have to ask.

Her unequivocal answer wasted no words. She walked over to him and stood between his sprawled thighs, clasped the front of his shirt, and pulled him up from his leaning position to gather him into her arms.

She captured his scruffy jaw between both of her hands and pressed a silken kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

He trembled with emotion at her soft whisper.

She climbed onto his lap and draped her arms around his shoulders, kissing him again. “I’m so sorry.”

Her kiss deepened. Jack groaned. It sounded almost hopeless, as though he was sure she would set him on fire and then merely reject him again.

He was wrong.

Eden began undressing him. “I love you,” she breathed against his bare throat as he dropped his head back. “I want you so much.”

He seemed to be beyond words with the heat of his need. She lifted his shirt off him smoothly. His right hand moved up and down the back of her leg, taking her buttock in his grasp every few strokes and squeezing it.

“I realize I made you doubt my love,” she whispered as she unbuttoned his trousers, “but now I want to take your doubt away.”

She freed his cock and made him writhe with her touch as she played with it. Her heart pounded as he grasped her shoulder and pulled her down to claim her lips.

As she caressed his tongue with her own, she wrapped her hand around his member with a firm hold and stroked it, reveling in the length, the girth of him; the satin feel of his most sensitive skin; its mighty throbbing in her hand. The staff of life, she thought in rich pleasure. Below it, his pendulous sac had gone taut with the strain of his massive erection. She glided her fingertips down lightly over the dark furring at his root, to cup his big balls in loving play, and then paused in kissing him, teething his plump lower lip gently.

He moaned as she released it from her nibbling hold. “God, I want to devour you.” His fingers found her nipple through her negligee. His hand was trembling.

“No, Jack,” she taunted him hotly. “This time it’s my turn to devour you. Would you like that?”

He groaned as she stroked his cock harder, having learned exactly how he most yearned to be touched. He seemed as though he was ready to spend in her hand, but if her husband wanted her mouth, he would have it.

She ended the kiss and swept her gaze up to his, meeting his fevered stare in subtle question. His splendid chest heaved as he watched her, his hair tousled. She smiled at his bee-stung lips and kissed him again, lightly. Then she slid off his lap, moving down to the floor on her knees.

He grasped her arm above the elbow, stopping her. He pulled her back up again and gathered her astride his lap. “Put me in you. Now.”

She obeyed with a quiver of anticipation, reaching down to guide his stiff rod to the wet lips of her passage. Jack gasped with pleasure and she held her breath as their bodies joined as one, that perfect lock-and-key fit.

It was like coming home.

“Oh, my God, Eden.”

“I know, darling.” Breathless, she raked her fingers through his wavy hair. “It feels so good to have you inside me.” Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and moved with him in slow, tender symmetry.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he said. “You don’t know. I’ve been dying for you.” His large, callused hands ran up and down her back through the zephyr silk negligee, molding the curves of her waist as she rode him.

She gave him an intoxicated smile, her gaze glittering, worshipful. She petted his cheek. “You’re mine, you know,” she whispered to him.

“God, yes. Body and soul.”

“Oh, Jack—I love you.”

“Sweetheart.” He grasped her nape and kissed her.

A few minutes later, he clasped her hips all of a sudden, stilling her forcibly. When she looked at him, his eyes were closed, his face etched with exquisite torment. “Damn—I can’t last.” He laughed a little.

She thrilled to know that she had him so excited. “Don’t hold back. It’s all right. I want you to come.”

“But I don’t want it to end yet.”

She nuzzled his mouth with a sultry smile. “Jack. You’ve got me for the rest of your life. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But I am,” he whispered sadly as he gazed into her eyes. “I leave the day after tomorrow.”

He watched her reaction as she strove to take the news bravely. She had known this was coming sooner or later and had made a private vow to face it with courage, but a little piece of her heart died to hear it. With all her heart, she did not want him to go, but she refused to complain; she figured she had been enough of a headache for him as it was. She caressed his hair and then kissed his brow.

“Well, then,” she whispered, “we’ll just have to make the best of the time we have.”

He nodded slowly, then they continued making love, resting their foreheads together, adoring each other, reveling in their passion. Denied as they both had been, it wasn’t long before they came together, flushed and damp with sweat, gasping into each other’s mouths, gazing into each other’s souls. The aqua-blue of his eyes would haunt her dreams forever; this man owned a piece of her heart she could never get back.

When the storm of love had given way to the warm glow of satisfaction, they crawled under the sheets to sleep together, enjoying the feel of their naked bodies entwined, all the way down to their feet. Eden rested her head on the curve of Jack’s chest. He draped his arms heavily around her shoulders.

She watched him dozing with a look of bliss.

“You know,” she murmured, snuggling against him, “I just realized something about myself.”

“Hm, what’s that?”

She petted his chiseled stomach slowly. “I think part of the reason I pulled away from you before is that I knew you’d have to go.”

“Aye?”

“I guess I was trying to protect myself from the hurt of when you go away.” She looked up at him penitently. “I thought if I could hold back from loving you to such a crazed degree, then it wouldn’t hurt as badly when you left.”

He tipped her chin upward. “Sweeting, I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“I know. I’ll be all right,” she promised, then nestled against him once more. “You come back safe to me just as soon as you can.”

“I will.”

“Good. Because, Jack—” She paused and took a deep breath. “I think I’m pregnant.”

 

The ship of the damned at last had come to rest in London. Bound and gagged in the cabin for his refusal to help Connor locate Eden, Dr. Farraday waited in terror for the deranged Australian’s return.

Connor had gone off hours ago to make his foray into civilization. His stated intentions were simple: to find Eden and to kill Jack Knight.

Victor prayed for all he was worth that the man had failed on both points.

Earlier, Connor, now the self-made captain of the hell-ship, had demanded that Victor take him to the places where Eden might be found, but even if he had an inkling of where she might be, the last thing he intended to do was to lead the madman straight to his daughter.

As for Jack Knight, well, he would have to look out for himself. With his famous family, he was easy enough to track down in the heart of London. Even Connor with his terror of civilized places would be able to find
him
.

Fortunately, Jack Knight was one of the few men Victor surmised had any sort of chance against Connor, who had only grown more hardened on the voyage.

Since none of them knew where Eden might actually be, starting with Jack was the obvious route.

Still, the man deserved a warning, and Victor burned to see the possibility of help so close, yet so far away.

From where the frigate was moored in the river, he could see through the cramped cabin’s porthole the warehouse painted with
KNIGHT ENTERPRISES, LTD.
in huge letters. It was a good thing the words were so big, for now Victor only had one lens of his spectacles left. But, blazes, seeing it alone did no good. He had no way of reaching it or warning Jack.

Who was to say that Jack would even know where Eden was, anyway? He had no reason to believe that the two of them would still be together, but somehow he prayed that they were, for he knew in his bones that Jack would keep his daughter safe.

Muffled cries of greeting from the ragged crew topside alerted Victor that Connor had come back. His heart pounded, but he braced himself, knowing it wouldn’t be long until his former assistant came down to report to him on his findings, simply out of habit.

Connor soon lurched in, cursing, bleeding from his leg, and looking a bit shaken by his expedition into the realm of men. He cupped his hand around the back of his thigh where he had incurred some sort of wound.

Victor looked at him uncertainly. Connor jerked a nod at one of his thralls. The sailor came over and untied the gag around Victor’s mouth.

“What happened to you?” he asked guardedly.

“Bloody dog bit me. Jack Knight’s dog,” he added acidly.

“D-Did you kill him?”

“The dog? Of course not. I could never kill a dog. Victor, what do you take me for?” Connor reached for some bandages in Victor’s medical kit, which they had brought with them all the way from the jungle. “Which one of these salves should I use for a dog bite?”

“If you’d untie me, I could tend it for you.”

Connor studied him for a long moment. “Don’t try anything stupid,” he ordered. Then he hobbled over on his wounded leg with a limp that very much resembled that of the drunken captain who’d been murdered in the mutiny.

Victor leaned forward so his erstwhile assistant, the ingrate, could untie his hands. “Did you see Eden?”

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