Prisoner of Desire (25 page)

She shivered. Her mouth went dry and she licked her lower lip. His gaze followed the tip of her tongue.

"Go on."

Her hand was moving before she thought about it. Smoothing along his belly and toward his

cock once more. His skin was so warm, almost hot. Soft but covering hard muscle. Clasping her fingers around his cock, she began moving her hand up and down it once more. His eyes

narrowed, pleasure showing on his face. His chest rumbled with a sound that was part growl and part enjoyment. She actually watched it ripple across his skin, gooseflesh rising up to cover him.

Hunger burned brightly in his eyes, his teasing mood dying in a flash of passion.

"My apologies." His tone was hard once more. "But control is something a captain has trouble relinquishing for very long."

He sat up in a smooth motion, the bed rocking beneath them. His hand slid along the side of her face, cupping it with warm fingers.

"But I believe that is something you enjoy about my nature."

"That doesn't mean we should many."

His face tightened, the fingers cradling her cheek slipping into her hair where he gripped it. He lowered his face until his mouth was poised above her own.

"No, madam, what makes me think marrying you would be a good idea is the way you so boldly reached for my cock."

"Lust is a sin."

"So is marrying a bastard like Mordaunt. He doesn't deserve you." His kiss blocked out her reply.

There was no teasing now, only a hungry demand for submission as he pressed her lips apart. His tongue thrust sure and deep into her mouth, taking possession. But he ripped his head away the moment she reached for him.

He pushed her across his body, the beautiful silk gown became twisted, the skirt rising above her knees. She tried to keep her face away from the coverlet, but a solid hand in the center of her back held her down.

"Lust is a prerequisite for affection, no matter what anyone says. The spark between us is something worth savoring."

He popped the lace holding her dress closed. The sound was loud in the still room. She heard the cord sliding out of the lacing holes. She tried to rise up again, to answer him, but he pushed her head back down and attacked her corset ties now that her dress was open.

"Behind that closed door, we don't have to play society's game. I, for one, plan to enjoy our privacy."

He flipped her over, dumping her into the center of the bed. She wasn't even sure how he

managed to lift her, but her weight didn't seem to burden him. She landed in a jumble of silk and limbs, the thick coverlet giving under her weight and allowing her to sink into the feather mattress. With her dress unlaced, it was practically suffocating, the mountains of silk and coverlets rising up above her face.

Warren rose above her, his hands gripping her dress. He tugged it up and her legs lifted off the bed so the unlaced garment might slip right off her. Somehow, he'd opened her petticoat

waistband too, and she fell back onto the bed in only her drawers and stockings. He had one shoe off before she managed to raise her head out of the bedding.

"Warren."

She sounded too breathless. He dropped her shoe and took off the other one in a swift motion.

"I like the look of you against my bed." He found the top of her stocking and pulled it down her leg. "I'm going to like it even more when you are wearing nothing but creamy skin."

She shivered, the candle burning on the center table catching her attention. It was only one single flame, but it cast a yellow glow over them both. Her stockings were gone, and he reached for the top of her drawers. With a gasp she gripped the cotton, clamping her arms down on her sides to hold her open corset over her breasts.

"It was always dark before." There was a tremor in her voice that turned her cheeks pink. His mother was beautiful and the women attending her celebration party far more pretty than she.

Warren paused, his face becoming unreadable. His gaze traveled along her body, slowly moving over every part of her. The candlelight bathed him, casting his body in gold. It suited him though, his body was perfection.

"You seem to enjoy seeing me."

She jerked her attention back to his face. "That's different."

"Because I'm a man?" He didn't sound pleased.

She shook her head. Vanity had never been important to her before, but tonight she wanted to be pretty, actually more beautiful than any woman he'd ever had in his bed. She wanted him to

always remember her. His forehead furrowed while he contemplated her.

He suddenly stretched out beside her, his body lying half on hers. A sigh passed her lips. She reached for him, delighted to have him in contact with her. It was safe and secure. As insane as it was, it satisfied some need deep inside her, a need to be wanted just as she was.

"I'm not a man of soft words, Lorena."

She laughed. "I believe my clothing thrown about your bedroom is proof of that."

His fingers teased her face, tipping her head up until their eyes met. Her breath caught when she saw what was shimmering in those eyes. Tenderness shone back at her. From Warren it gained

even more intensity because it was the only softness she had ever witnessed in him.

"I've never read a book of poetry in my life and that's not likely to change." His hands rested on her cheeks, keeping her head in place. "But don't doubt for a moment that I found you so alluring I couldn't resist you, even knowing that taking you was something I'd live with the rest of my life."

He kissed her, a long, sweet kiss that lingered. Her fingers curled into his hair, holding him close.

He trailed his lips across her cheek, leaving tiny kisses on her skin.

"I've met every pretty girl downstairs and none of them has ever pushed me far enough to disregard my honor."

It was a confession. One that hit her ears in a raspy tone almost too low to hear. Even if she barely heard his words, her heart did. Each one ripped into her need to return to Britain.

Warren raised his head, capturing her gaze with his once more. "I just abducted you from my mother's party and I don't care. The only two people I answer to in this world are my parents, Lorena." His eyes flashed with emotion. "All that matters anymore is getting you here, with me.

It may not be poetic, but it's honest."

It was perfect

And she didn't want to think beyond that. She let the corset go and sighed when he swept it down her body. The night was cool but he was warm against her. Her drawers followed, allowing her legs to part and grip his hips. It was decadent. Pleasure flowed through her. Warren pressed her down, kissing every part of her. A shoulder and on to her collarbone. He trailed his mouth to the swell of one breast, the skin rippling with anticipation. He slid his hands beneath her back to lift her toward his mouth, the puckered nipple sitting on top of that breast rising up like an offering.

Her back arched, making sure her nipple was lifted high. Need swirled through her. Excitement pulsing deep inside her passage. But her nipple wanted

his lips on it. The small bit of her body clamoring for its turn to be touched.

She cried out when he touched it. With just the tip of his tongue. Pleasure flared out and over her, sending her twisting in a mindless motion there was no controlling.

Warren held her, his hands keeping her body in place. His mouth closed over her nipple as he sucked it. She'd never imagined anything might be so hot. His mouth burned her skin without the pain. Instead there were spikes of sensation spearing through her. Hot streams of need pouring down her body until it pooled in her belly. Her passage felt empty. So empty she ached.

Reaching down, she sought the hard flesh she craved.

She never gripped it. Warren rolled over her completely. Her thighs cradled his hips, the folds of her sex opening for the hard touch she wanted.

"I need you, Lorena. I swear I do."

He thrust smoothly into her, a soft cry echoing throughout the room. Lorena heard it but wasn't aware of just who made the sound. They felt like the same person, pleasure gripping them,

driving them toward fulfillment. She lifted her hips for every downward thrust of his. Her body eagerly taking his length, the stretching fullness sending delight through her. She wasn't close enough. He wasn't deep enough inside her. "More. Warren.. .1 need more." More of everything.

More speed, more strength...just more. He covered her, letting his weight press her down into the feather mattress. She pulled him closer, even though it became difficult to draw breath. "I'll give you all you want. All. " He ground his cock into her, pushing deeper and harder into her spread body. He gripped her hair, holding her prisoner while his body slammed against hers. Pleasure tightened and twisted deep inside her belly until it erupted in a cascade of pleasure so intense she cried out. There was too much to keep contained, too much to do anything except experience the rapture.

Warren buried himself and shuddered, his body convulsing and drawing so tight his teeth gritted.

Deep in her passage, she felt his seed pumping into her. Hot and burning, it sent another

convulsive ripple of sensation through her.

The room spun in a dizzy circle, her heart pounding too fast for her lungs to keep pace with. She didn't care. Her body relaxed, all of her weight lying on the mattress in a heap.

Warren rolled off her but pulled her against his side, his hands shaking. Their breathing was rough but sounded so right she smiled. Finding words to explain things had never given her such satisfaction. But she felt cherished in his embrace, more so than she could ever recall.

For the moment, Warren held her and everything was perfect. Tomorrow was an eternity away,

all of its decisions and duties too distant to worry about.

Yes, perfect, and perfection was like a smooth pond surface. It should not be disturbed.

Warren watched the horizon turn pink. He didn't mind though. Waking early had never held such rich rewards as it did today.

Lorena was still snuggled deep in his bed. She was the first woman he'd ever had beneath his parents' roof. It suited her. Lorena was different than his mistresses. She belonged nested against his side, a costly goose-down comforter pulled over her shoulder to keep her warm. Satisfaction filled him. It refused to allow him to slip back into slumber. But the rising sun drove him out of bed to close the bed curtains so Lorena might rest.

He grinned. He planned to keep her up late as often as possible. Dressing took little time, but he carried his boots from the room to maintain silence. The house was still slumbering. The lower floor was brightening with the morning sun, the long glass windows letting the light in. Only the upper floor had draperies.

"You have forgotten whose son you are if you believe no one else is up to greet the dawn."

Warren paused just past the doorway to the small room the family took their private meals in.

His mother's voice drifted softly into the entry hall with just a hint of mocking. Returning to the doorway, he moved into the room and sat in a chair. He pulled on his boots while his mother studied him over a china cup held in her hand.

"Your father is ever the marauder that he was when I met him. You get your early rising habit from me and your tendency to plunder from him."

Brigitte aimed a knowing look on him. Her lips were pursed into a mild pout but her eyes danced with merriment. Ten years ago he'd cringed at her frank tendency to discuss the fact he was not a virgin.

Today only a little heat touched his neck.

"No one noticed, except for me and your brothers. Garrick mentioned something about giving Lady Holly to Lorena."

Warren lifted the coffee pot. The rich brown brew was still steaming as he poured it. His mother watched him, waiting to see if he would answer her. Her eyes narrowed when he only stared at her over the rim of his coffee cup. She finally huffed and smiled.

"As I said, you are a marauder like your father. You'll be fortunate if Lorena loves you in spite of that."

"You love my father in spite of his history."

Brigitte angled her head slightly. An elegant motion that fit with her overall radiance.

"At times I find myself suffering tender emotions for him."

Warren snorted, gaining a frown from his mother. "Lorena seems bent on avoiding such

emotions."

His mother lost her teasing air. Her face became pensive, the china cup lowering to its saucer.

Warren shrugged. "I've always known you are unique in being able to love a man who stole you."

"Lorena spent the night in your bed. I saw it with my own eyes."

His mother was thinking out loud, but the heat rose beneath his collar. She tapped the tablecloth with a perfectly manicured fingertip. Her gaze moved over him and her finger stopped while her eyes sparkled with victory.

"I have been peeking in on you and your brothers since your father made me send you to the nursery. Do not expect my habits to change while you sleep beneath my roof." Her gloating ended as she contemplated his face. "Your courtship tactics might be bold, but Lorena did not appear.. .displeased. She was clinging to you long after you'd both fallen asleep."

"Mother..."

Brigitte waved her hand. "I am married to your father, Warren. There is nothing you did last night that is original to your generation. Don't make the mistake of thinking I am like half our neighbors in their quest to make the lady wife a pillar of virtue and ignorance. Your father would not take kindly to me moving to another bedchamber now that we aren't seeking more children."

He rolled his eyes, gaining another husky laugh from his mother.

"My father would chase you down the hallway."

"Which is how we lost more than one governess before being fortunate enough to employ some women with a sense of humor."

Warren cleared his throat, but his mother only arched her eyebrow in wicked suggestion. It

wasn't an abnormal conversation. At least as long as they were alone. His mother was the perfect model of society. But in private she was a pistol. It never ceased to amaze him the way she spoke about the most frank matters while looking like she was sitting in a church pew. But Lorena was something different than the women he'd discussed with his mother before. A protective urge rose up fast and furious.