The Highwayman (Rakes and Rogues of the Restoration Book 3) (32 page)

“I’ll wager you can’t do that with yours,” he said with a teasing grin.

“Silly man! Why should I want to?” But now the thought was in her head she was forced to give it a try. As one breast bobbed and then the other, they both collapsed in laughter and he pulled her unresisting into his arms. As she recovered her breath, much of her tension eased. She had already decided that tonight she was going to give herself to this impossibly exciting, utterly charming, and completely forbidden man. She should be terrified. The potential consequences were monumental, but his playfulness reminded her that this was Jack. Her Jack. And there was no other man with whom she could imagine taking this adventure.

She sighed, and trailed her hands across his nipple, enjoying the hard pebbly feel of it against the soft pads of her fingers, looking at him curiously when he took a sudden deep breath. “Does it feel the same to you, when I touch you, as it does to me when you touch me?”

“What does it do to you?” he asked, his voice ragged. Her lips were slightly parted, her glorious hair tumbled about her shoulders, and he smiled to think she had the makings of a fine coquette.

“It makes them twinge and…ache…in a pleasant manner.” She was going to turn to cinders if she kept blushing so.

“And?”

“And it makes me feel all aflutter and... and…restless between my legs.”

“Sweet Jesus, Bella!” He hooked her knee, pulling it forward until she was half on top of him, and as she wiggled and squirmed, making herself comfortable he released his breath in a low moan. Taking her hand, he guided it to the swollen erection straining against his breeches, groaning with pleasure when she took it in an awkward grasp. “That is what your touch does to me.”

His eyes blazed with hunger. She met his gaze and held it as she pulled and tugged, this way and that, her inexpert fingers working clumsily at the buttons of his breeches. It was the sweetest bliss he’d ever known, and though his hands were clenched tight and his breathing was labored and heavy, he watched her and refused to help.

Arabella took her time, enjoying his reaction, the way his body, hot and quivering, moved and shifted, responding to her touch. He was thick and heavy beneath her palm and she squeezed his length as her fingers plucked one button open. He arched against her hand, thrusting his hips forward as she worked on the next. She couldn’t help an involuntary gasp when he sprang free. He was as imposing as she remembered from her brief glimpse at the well. She stroked him gently with her fingertips, fascinated by the feel of silky smooth skin stretched tight over raw power. He is so beautiful, she thought again.

His knuckles caressed her cheek and his fingers caught the tip of her chin, turning her to face him. “Enough ogling for now, Bella. I would have you in my arms.”

She turned into his touch with a soft sigh. He hugged her close against him, blazing a trail of molten kisses from the underside of her jaw to the hollow of her shoulder as he plucked at her hem, slowly raising it up her thighs. Without the encumbrance of petticoats there was only a filmy chemise between her skirt and her bare flesh and as he brushed it aside to caress her skin, she yielded to his touch with a soft sigh. She sank against him with a low moan as his fingers reached higher, seeking the soft juncture between her thighs.

Shifting position so that she lay beneath him, he claimed her lips, parting them gently with his tongue and slipping between them to explore her mouth in an unhurried kiss. Arabella moaned and spread her legs for him, swept away by the spell he wove with soft kisses, whispered endearments, and a knowing touch that sent frissons of delight skipping through every nerve. Her thighs were slick from her own moisture and she pushed against his teasing fingers, uncertain how to relieve the exquisite throbbing building between her legs, but wanting something more. She pressed against his length. “Show me everything, Jack,” she murmured, hot against his ear. “Don’t stop.”

He slid a warm hand over her belly and gathered her skirt in his fist. Pulling it aside, he leaned over to plant a series of shivery kisses across her tummy and hips. “That might take years,” he said with a slow smile. “But there is danger too, Bella. Though I would try not to, there is always the chance I might get you with child.”

She sucked in her breath, throbbing inside, as his thumbs grazed her hipbones and his tongue swirled lazy circles around her navel.

He looked up at her with a roguish grin. “I can always show you other ways, as I did before.”

She touched his face, her heart melting. Dear sweet, reckless Jack, yet he always had a care for her. “I was so harsh with you, Jack. That message...Why did you come?”

He put his fingers over her lips to stop her, and then pulled her into a tender kiss. “Whenever you have need of me, I will come.”

She covered him in an onslaught of hungry kisses, his chest, his throat, his face, his jaw. It wasn’t really an answer, but it was enough to make her heart soar. “There is a full moon tonight. From what I have heard of the talk of other women, this is a time when I am safe.”

Jack chuckled to himself as he hugged her to him. His Bella was a virgin, of that he had no doubt, but a virgin unlike any other. In this, as in all things she was uniquely herself. Of course, she had made a study of it, just as she had her coalmines and brickyards, grand houses and great caverns, and tobaccos and ales. He wondered what had first caught her interest on the subject, and when her studies had first begun.
I wager it was shortly after Shooter’s Hill.

Now
she offered her virginity rather than having it taken, and he was not unmindful of the value of this prize, nor the honor bestowed by the gift. In truth, he had never been so moved. He only wished he had something of like value to offer her in return.
I will keep her safe, though
.
And I will give her more pleasure than she’s ever known.

“You honor me, Bella, well beyond my deserving. Were I a good and honest man, I would refuse you, but I’ve not the strength to turn down such a gift.” He yanked of his breeches and already painfully engorged, he settled between her thighs, covering her body with his.

Arabella’s breath caught in her throat as his swollen shaft pressed heavy on her naked belly. She placed her hands on his waist, not sure what to do next. Heart racing, she let her palms slide down his back and over his taut muscled buttocks. He growled, grinding against her, and took her mouth in a searing kiss as he worked to remove what was left of her riding skirt and chemise from around her waist. She lifted her bottom to help him, the movement pushing her tight against his straining erection. The muscles between her legs flexed and quivered, and the moist heat inside her clenched and ached. She opened her legs to him so he settled tight between her thighs, excited by the feel of it and delighted by the power to make him moan.

Jack cursed and took the remnants of her skirt between his hands, tearing it in two, pulling it off and tossing it away before raining hot kisses on the soft skin of her stomach. She gasped when he grasped her bottom, raising her hips, and pulling her toward his hot seeking mouth. She cried out when he kissed the throbbing centre of her pleasure, his tongue circling and teasing, thrusting and stroking, just as when he kissed her mouth. She whimpered and writhed, her hands on his shoulders, calling his name, on the verge of some great epiphany, and then something inside her clenched and released, over and over, and waves of exquisite pleasure rocked her to her core.

He rose along her length, capturing her mouth, and entered her slowly, stretching her gently, pausing to let her adjust to the feel and size of him inside her. She was hot and slick, he’d made sure she was ready, and though she clenched tight around him there was no sign of pain. He eased farther inside, whispering praise and endearments, caressing and kissing as she accepted his length. When he was buried deep within her, he stopped, taking his weight on his forearms, clenching his muscles and taking deep breaths, his aching shaft throbbing as he waited patiently for her to move.

Arabella squirmed beneath him, her body still humming from what he’d done to her with his tongue. No one, nothing, had ever made her feel this way before. No wonder poets wrote about it. No wonder people took such risks. How sad it would have been to live her life and not know this. Even now, when she thought every drop of pleasure had been wrung from her, she was feeling new sensations. She had tensed against his entry, anxious of his size, but though she felt stretched and full, it was in an altogether pleasant way. Every time his body shifted she felt another little thrill, and the sweet tormenting pulsing that had so consumed her, incredibly, was coiling within her again. She bracketed his face and pulled his mouth to hers and her muscles squeezed around him as she did. She gave a little gasp of surprise at the sharp stab of pleasure, and how quickly she ached for him again.

She kissed him again, this time parting his lips with her tongue and his eyes flared with hunger. Arching her hips against him, experimentally, she was rewarded by his ragged groan. She reached for his hips and pulled him tight against her, wanting to give him the same pleasure he had given her, and he thrust deep inside her, and then almost withdrew. Her own need was building now, the same as before, but deeper, denser, more central to her core.

His thrusts came harder, faster, wilder, and she rose on her heels, grinding against him, moving with him until the world dissolved. She floated in ecstasy beyond her wildest imaginings as her muscles clenched around him again and again. It was everything she’d dreamt of and a thousand fold more. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” she murmured with each exquisite contraction, unable to separate sensation from emotion, caught in a beautiful dizzying whirl where love and pleasure were one glorious thing.

He cradled her warm in his arms, kissing her forehead and stroking her hair as she slowly recovered her senses. She buried her head against his shoulder, praying he hadn’t heard her. Some things, impossible things, were best left unsaid. When he caught her chin between his fingers and tilted her head to face him, his eyes were thoughtful and she found herself wishing for his grin.

“You were magnificent, Arabella. I will always treasure this gift.”

She breathed a sigh of relief, and warmed by his smile she snuggled against him. “There is no one I would have given it to but you. I had no idea how amazing it would be. It was so beautiful, Jack. I couldn’t possibly have imagined. Thank you for showing me. For making it all so wonderful.”

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It
was
wonderful, sweetheart. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it myself. Life had a sameness to it before you came along. You stir my senses and awaken feelings I didn’t know I had. When you smile a certain way my heart turns in my chest. When you kiss me I feel shivers up my spine. When we are together, all is well with the world. I feel happier and more alive than ever I did on the highway or when I first raced the moon with Bess, and I feel as though the best part of me is missing when you’re gone. You said you loved me, Bella. You said it three times. Did you mean it? Do you have these feelings too?”

Her heart beat so loudly she was surprised he couldn’t hear it. To acknowledge such thoughts and feelings was foolish and dangerous for them both. It was madness. A wild, glorious, reckless madness and it seemed he shared it too.

“Bella?”

She threw her arms around his neck, knocking him onto his back, and kissed him hard. “Would I be here with you like this if I didn’t? Oh, Jack! Of course I do!”

He gave her a fierce hug. “God help us both. It is impossible. What are we to do?”

Jack deposited Arabella into the carved four-poster bed and slid in beside her, pulling a blanket up over them both. She stretched and yawned, feeling good all over, knowing something irrevocable had just taken place.
I am in love with a thrilling, caring, passionate man, and he is in love with me.
She was certain the smile etched on her face would never go away
.
Her shoulders and back were stiff from her tumble on the roof. She was sore in places that had never ached before, and tomorrow, no doubt, she was going to feel all of her aches and bruises, but none of it mattered as she basked in the warm afterglow of their lovemaking. There was no doubt Jack Nevison knew his way around a woman. His possession of her had left her feeling loving and loved, as well as satisfied and replete.

As they lay in silence, side by side, in a place halfway between his world and hers, she knew no matter how difficult and confusing it was, there must be a bridge. There had to be a way for them to be together.

Jack reached out to take her hand and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “You are unusually quiet. Are you having regrets?”

“Only about the way I left you in York. I was so worried that I might get hurt, I ended up hurting you. I
am
sorry.”

“No. Don’t apologize. You—”

“Jack!” Half laughing, she covered his mouth with her hand. “You will please give me leave to apologize. I know I am not very good at it, but I really have been trying all night.”

His tongue teased her palm and she removed her hand with a grin.

“You were right though, Bella. About the risks. When we are together, neither of us stops to consider the danger. Or else we do and then ignore it. I endanger you by being here right now. I should have seen you safely home and then left.”

“Give me leave to think otherwise. If I had never met you, if you had not come tonight, I would be in very unpleasant circumstances or dead. You have only ever helped me. Now please let me finish, and I promise never to bother you with apologies again.”

“Never?” His voice was doubtful.

“You have said that I am perfect.”

“But surely there are circumstances where—”

She stopped him with a finger to his lips. “You are an honorable man, Jack. Or at least you always have been so with me. I was jealous of Peg and that is all. I envied her the first dance and was angry at the way she touched you. I overreacted. As you said, it was just a dance. It was my failing not yours. I wanted you all to myself. It was selfish, I know. I would have apologized that night. I was going to, but somehow the argument got out of hand. I offer it to you now, as I should have then.”