Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed (23 page)

Poor Sidonie. Soon she’d be unable to deny him anything.

He still held her hands. Stupid girl, she drew strength from that clasp. She stiffened her backbone, feeling her breasts rise against the shift.

“Sidonie?” he asked softly, letting her hands fall into her lap where they opened and closed nervously in the crumpled skirt.

If he pushed or insisted or bullied, she’d withstand him. But he made her name an invitation to discover marvelous secrets.

After a pause, she reluctantly nodded. “Very well.”

J
onas released his breath and strove against identifying his reaction as knee-trembling relief. How he wished he could paint Sidonie now, kneeling in front of him, her lavish body draped in a whisper of silk. He wanted to keep her like this forever so he could relive this moment on cold, lonely nights.

What artist could recreate Sidonie’s sensuous beauty? No mere dauber could capture the feminine musk on the air. Or depict the soft, uneven pattern of her breathing. Her skin was flushed. A pulse fluttered in the hollow of her throat. Her lips were full and dark, although he’d hardly kissed her.

Over and over in the mirrors, she emerged from the loosened gown like a water lily from a lake. He loomed over her like a nightmare. Usually he derived twisted satisfaction from the contrast between a beautiful woman in his bed and his physical hideousness. He brushed aside one of the pink ribbons supporting the chemise. She jumped with nerves.

“Don’t be afraid, Sidonie,” he crooned, shaping his hand to her shoulder. She felt so fragile, yet she was stronger than the thick stone walls surrounding them.

“I’m not afraid.” Clearly a lie. He knew she was unsure, even afraid. The blindfold must strike her as strange and wicked. Her courage scoured his heart. She’d face down Satan himself with that arrogantly tilted chin.

“You’ve done this before, you know,” he said with a hint of teasing laughter.

“I could see you then,” she responded tartly.

Brava, bella
.
Don’t stop fighting.
“Without sight, other senses take over.”

“You make me shy,” she said so quietly, he bent nearer to hear. He caught the haunting fragrance that was Sidonie’s alone. Shutting his eyes, he drew that essence into his lungs.

The need to be inside her crashed like rolling thunder. Still, he kept his touch light as he traced a path down one white breast to the lacy edge of her shift. If he kept her in his bed the next three days, if he drank her kisses until he was intoxicated, if he explored every mystery of her exquisite body, surely he’d be sated. Except he already knew his appetite would merely feed on its desire. He’d never have enough of her.

Gently he lowered the silk to reveal one hard pink nipple. Startled, she jerked back on her knees. When he cupped her breast, her breath escaped in a whimper. With unsteady fingers, he unlaced her corset and drew it away. Dear God, she was lovely. He could worship her body for a lifetime and still feel he hadn’t done her justice.

Careful not to dislodge the blindfold, he drew the red dress, then the shift, over her head. He extended her long
legs, tugging her slippers off and rolling stockings over elegant ankles and feet. He dropped the scraps of silk to the floor and trailed his hands slowly up satiny skin, pausing just below her sex. “It’s a sin against nature to cover a woman so glorious. I decree you stay naked.”

Her laugh was husky as she leaned back on her hands for balance. “I’d shock Mrs. Bevan.”

Jonas’s hands ran along her thighs, feeling her muscles lengthen. Her position made her lush breasts jut. When he drew her nipple into his mouth, she trembled. She trembled more powerfully when he shifted his attentions to her other breast.

Her fingers wove through his hair, holding him nearer. “I’m guessing you’re still dressed,” she said drily.

He lifted his head. “How do you know?”

“Merrick, your tone is too superior for it to be otherwise.”

Seconds ago, she had him wanting to fall to his knees in veneration. Now she made him want to laugh. What a bewitching mixture she was. “Jonas.”

“Blasted, importuning, lecherous, deceiving snake Jonas,” she said with saccharine sweetness.

He tumbled her onto her back in a tangle of slender limbs and floating hair. “You say the nicest things.”

Her hands clenched in his shirt when he came down over her. “I knew you hadn’t undressed.”

“In good time,
la mia vita
.” He braced himself on his arms to stare at her. Stretched out under him, she looked like a sulky goddess. “What’s your hurry?”

“Dawn rushes upon us.”

“Dawn doesn’t mean an end to pleasure,” he said silkily.

His sulky goddess blushed so furiously that the color seeped below the blindfold. What a darling she was. More
luscious than Mrs. Bevan’s
baklava
. A hint of the exotic. Spice and honey that lingered on the tongue and made a man crave more. Made a man want to gorge.

Lurching to his knees, he reefed the shirt over his head, tossing it disregarded into the corner. Once more he lowered himself over her. Her soft sigh of pleasure at the brush of his naked chest against her breasts resonated through his bones. He drew away until mere inches separated them. Her strong, graceful hands were frantic as they explored his chest and grazed his hard belly. Her quick, glancing touches made more than his belly hard. His cock ached so painfully, his whole body throbbed. She skimmed a nipple and he stifled an agonized groan.

He battled for restraint. He hadn’t lingered over her last night. Tonight he meant to make up for that. Very gently he parted her legs. Candlelight flickered on glistening pink folds. He caught her heady scent.

She tried to cover herself. Her voice shook with nervousness banished. “You’re looking at me, aren’t you?”

“You’re beautiful.”

When she started to draw her legs together, he placed one hand on her thigh. He exerted no pressure, but his heart somersaulted when she immediately lay still. Her hand dropped away from her sex.

Inhaling a breath redolent of aroused woman, he knew himself in Elysium. He kissed her with unfettered need. She opened immediately. He sucked her tongue into his mouth, feasting on her. Trailing kisses down her slender body, he became so lost in delight, he almost abandoned his goal. She moved restlessly and her legs spread wider. She couldn’t know his intention but her body instinctively prepared itself.

Sidonie’s every muscle tightened as Jonas’s mouth settled against her most private place. “Wh… what are you doing?”

She tried to scramble up the bed. When he raised his head, she inhaled with shaky relief. She tried to close her legs, but he lay between them.

“Be adventurous,
bella
.” She heard his smile.

She fumbled at his shoulders, but he was immovable as a mountain. “You can’t possibly want to put your mouth… there.”

He laughed softly. “
Tesoro,
you taste sweeter than wine.”

Embarrassment threatened to incinerate her. She could remove the blindfold, but, curse him, she didn’t want to see his face. Jonas had looked at parts of her she’d never expected anyone to see, parts she couldn’t even name.

“I don’t—” Words wedged in her throat. She dug her hand into his thick hair, holding him still between her thighs. “Please, Jonas. Don’t make me do this.”

The silence lengthened. The sea’s distant thunder played counterpoint to her wayward heartbeat. A night bird called forlornly outside, lost on the ocean.

“The last thing I want is to frighten you.” His voice was as serious as she’d ever heard it. He shifted up, his body sliding along hers. He placed a nipping kiss on each breast.

Her tension eased as she realized he wouldn’t force this disturbing intimacy. Kissing her between the legs seemed outlandish to the point of perversity. “Th-thank you,” she murmured and ran her hand through his hair in gratitude.

Groaning appreciation, he rubbed against her, pressing
her into the mattress. Last night, she’d been too overwhelmed to explore his body. Curiosity swelled, sharp, hungry. She possessed senses other than sight. Hearing. Smell. Taste.
Touch.

Her hands slid up his chest to his shoulders. Measured by touch, he seemed larger, more formidable. Daringly she reached down to stroke him there, where he was a man. He tensed and she wondered whether he liked what she did. Then he pushed himself into her hand with an urgency that fueled arousal. She squirmed against the sheets to relieve the swelling heat between her thighs.

“Hell, Sidonie,” he groaned and she heard his tormented pleasure.

She did nothing more than cup him, unsure what was permissible, what gave delight. He felt vibrantly alive. And impressively big. Difficult to believe he’d pushed that rigid weight inside her last night.

In her ear, his breath was an unsteady rattle. Astonishing that she’d so swiftly brought this worldly man to the brink. She bit her lip, summoned courage and curled her fingers. He shuddered and lowered his head to her shoulder to mutter profanities that sounded like prayers. The sensuous softness of his hair brushing her cheek contrasted pleasurably with the virile power in her grasp.

Discovering his body through touch alone was fascinating. He’d explored her with the attention a mapmaker devoted to an unknown coastline. Whereas he remained
terra incognita
.

Not after tonight.

Feeling like the bravest woman in Creation, she fumbled with his breeches.

“
Bella
…”

“Roll onto your back.” Much as she resented its presence, the blindfold lent courage she doubted she’d muster under his knowing silver gaze.

She waited for Jonas to mock her boldness, but the mattress dipped as he shifted. Sidonie kneeled above him to stroke his rod through the opening of his breeches. She tightened and released her grip in a primeval rhythm.

“Damn it.” He sounded in pain.

“Should I stop?”

“Good God, no.” He demonstrated his sincerity by raising his hips. “How the hell do you know to do that?”

“I want to please you.” Changing the pressure, she drew upward to the tip. Her thumb smeared a drop of moisture across the head.

“Holy merciful God.” He slid away, breaking her hold.

An incoherent complaint escaped her. “What are you doing?”

“Undressing,” he muttered.

Quivering with impatience, she waited. “Can I take off the blindfold?”

“No.” He leaned over her, pressing her onto her back.

When he scraped his teeth over her nipple, she jumped at the sharp pleasure. She wriggled and bent her knees to frame his hips. When she reached down to continue her intriguing experiments, he grabbed her hand. “No, Sidonie.”

Chagrin flooded her. “You said you liked it.”

His laugh was rueful. “If you touch me, I’ll explode.”

“I’ve never—” She drew a shaky breath. “A man’s body is a mystery.”

“My apologies for curtailing your investigation.”

Odd how humor stoked desire. Last night, giving
herself had been such a desperate matter. Now laughter lent spice to passion. “I’ll further my inquiries later.”

He gave an exaggerated groan. “If I survive that long.”

She loved his laughter. She loved that he faced the world with a reckless smile on his scarred face. Her heart crashed against her chest. A revelation descended. A revelation unrelated to the desire heating her blood.

She didn’t just want Jonas Merrick. She didn’t just find him fascinating. She
liked
the reprobate. She liked him more than she’d liked anyone. When she left, longing for the lover would burn like acid. But the true tragedy was she’d miss Jonas himself. Nothing would fill the gap he left in her life.

He ran his hand down her body to her mound. She felt another of those surges of wet heat then forgot self-consciousness when he kissed her with ravenous hunger. Still kissing her, he stroked along the sleek folds. He found a particularly sensitive place and circled his finger until she whimpered and dug her fingers into his shoulders. He slid one long finger into her and worked it in and out. A powerful pulse beat in her belly and her breath emerged in broken sobs. He pushed her higher, but every time she came close to breaking through into that bright world, he’d stop, only to build response again.

“You devil.” She shifted restlessly. Lights flickered behind her eyes. His fingers curled against a spot inside her that vibrated with delight. She felt herself beginning to fall, to melt, to yield. He pulled away again.

“Stop tormenting me.” She was a tortured mass of nerve endings. Pleasure hovered out of reach, more agony than delight.

“Not yet.”

Another of those fiendish strokes. Another flash of response that pushed her to the edge but didn’t tumble her over into relief. Every muscle was on fire and only Jonas had access to lakes of cool water to ease her fever.

“You leave me no pride.” She stretched up in an instinctive attempt to snatch her bliss.

“I want your hunger.” For the first time, through the thunder in her head, she heard the strain in his voice. This long seduction wore him down, too. He wasn’t far from losing control.