Regency High Society Vol 2: Sparhawk's Lady / The Earl's Intended Wife / Lord Calthorpe's Promise / The Society Catch. Miranda Jarrett

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СКАЧАТЬ Jeremiah was wrong, no matter how wonderful it felt. She had tried so hard to be a good woman, a lady, and no lady would ever let a man touch her like this. Look what had happened to her own mother, and what had nearly happened to her, as well.

      But as she felt Jeremiah ease the silk of her gown further off her shoulders, she couldn’t stop him, not when she felt his hands slide once again down the length of her back, his fingers splayed to cover as much of her as he could. This wonderful, wild sensation that only he seemed able to bring to her simply felt too good. His hands were warm and sure wherever they touched her, learning where her waist narrowed and her hips flared, reaching forward to find the softest flesh on the underside of her breasts. She gasped with surprised pleasure and instinctively arched against him, seeking the strong support of his chest as her own knees turned wobbly as a new lamb’s.

      “Oh, Jeremiah, what you’re doing to me,” she whispered with what little breath she still controlled. “Oh my, Jeremiah!”

      He chuckled softly, knowing and masculine, as he slid one arm around her waist to steady her. “Exactly what am I doing?”

      “You—you know.” Grateful for his support, she turned her cheek against his shoulder, the wool of his coat rough against her skin. With her eyes still closed, she was almost painfully aware of his touch, the stiff hair on his forearm grazing against her side, the rustling silk bombazine of her gown gliding over them both.

      “I didn’t know you wanted me to play lady’s maid,” he teased, his lips so close that his breath was warm on her ear, making her shiver yet again. “Don’t be so sure I know what you want now.”

      “But you do,” she said breathlessly. “You know better than I do myself.”

      “Do I now, sweet Caro?” His other hand moved higher, her breast filling his palm as his work-calloused thumb teased her nipple into a taut peak. She caught her breath as the first hot flames of desire raced through her blood, her whole body tightening, coiling in a way she didn’t begin to understand. Seeking some kind of release she moved restlessly against him, not realizing the agony she was bringing to him until she heard him groan, his grasp on her tightening as he tried to hold her still.

      “Steady, lass,” he said, his breathing now as ragged as her own. “There’s naught to be gained for either of us that way, is there?”

      “Oh, Jeremiah, I’m sorry!” Unaware until he’d spoken that she’d done anything wrong, she twisted about in his arms, clutching her gown modestly over her breasts as she faced him. “I told you I didn’t know what I was doing, but you refuse to believe me.”

      “You’re right, I don’t.” He swept her pale, tangled hair back from her forehead and tipped her face up toward his. “I’ll need convincing.”

      He had, she thought with giddy conviction, the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen on a man, as green and as ever changing as the sea he loved.

      “I’m not very good at arguments,” she said softly. “I doubt I could convince you of your own name.”

      “Don’t use words, sweetheart, and you’ll do just fine.” Gently he raised her chin and captured her mouth for his own. She remembered what joy it had been to kiss him before, and eagerly she parted her lips for him.

      But the heady sweetness she’d remembered from before wasn’t there this time. Too much had happened since then to change the subtle stakes between them, and that easy, careless attraction between two strangers had been irrevocably lost. In its place was something deeper, darker, that Caro sensed from the instant his lips began moving over hers, something she welcomed even as she realized it could lead only to her ruin.

      Now when his mouth moved so surely over hers, she felt his heat like a fire licking at her soul. Seamlessly their mouths joined, his tongue savoring her velvety sweetness, plunging deeper and then withdrawing in a seductive dance that left her desperate for more. In return she kissed him the only way she knew how, with a shy eagerness, the way he’d taught her the first time, and he rewarded her with a low growl of masculine satisfaction.

      The gown between them slipped forgotten from her fingers as she reached her hands beneath his coat to curl around his neck, drawing him closer as she arched into him. Her breasts tightened against the rough linen of his shirt and the hard muscle of his chest beneath it, and little cries of pleasure escaped her lips to be swallowed by his.

      His large hands slid deep into the black silk to caress her body, lifting her against him so she could feel how well they fit together. With an intimacy that at once shocked and excited her, her legs fell open on either side of his, and through the thin barrier of silk she could feel his rigid length as he pressed against her most secret parts, her softness melting around him, teasing them both with the promise of what completion would bring.

      His mouth broke free of hers, his beard rough against her skin as he trailed kisses along her jaw. “We’re so good together, sweetheart,” he murmured, and even in her inexperience she knew he was right. “I’ll give you paradise like you’ve never known.”

      Frustrated by the frail barriers still between them, he began pulling her skirts high over her legs, relentlessly guiding her toward the bunk as she clung to him. In her ear she heard how he whispered her name over and over, his voice thick with desire, making the single word a prayer of passion and tenderness she’d never dreamed she’d hear.

      “Love me, Caro,” he whispered hoarsely as he licked at the salty hollow of her throat. “Love me, and let me love you.”

      Love me. He loved her, he wanted her: what else could a woman hope for from a man? Yet for Caro the awful reality of his words sliced through the haze of passion, and her eyes filled with tears of longing for what she could not—must not—have.

      “No,” she said softly, covering herself as she pushed away from him. “I can’t, Jeremiah.”

      “Yes, sweetheart, you can,” he breathed, still so sure of himself as he gently drew her back, kissing her again with an intensity that left her dizzy with longing. “You will.”

      She closed her eyes and pulled away again, trying to shut him out as she struggled to find the strength within herself to turn away. There could be no place in her life for the kind of love he was offering. Love like that was an indulgence that women could not afford. Love like Jeremiah wanted from her brought suffering, pain and sorrow. She had only to look as far as her own mother.

      “I can’t, Jeremiah. Please. Please!’ She withdrew again, and again he reached for her, but now with a blind possessiveness she hadn’t expected, crushing her hard against his chest. For the first time she found him using his size and strength against her, and too late she realized the force of the passion she’d raised in him. Once he had told her he’d never taken a woman against her will, but if he tossed her onto the bunk now to finish what they’d begun, she knew she would have no one to blame but herself. Panicking, she tried to shove him away. “No, Jeremiah, I can’t!”

      “Can’t, or won’t?” The blood pounding through his body drowned out every thought except the overwhelming need for her. He had never known a woman who had responded to him so passionately and with so few inhibitions, the sinuous movements of her pale body half hidden, half revealed by the black silk more incendiary than if she’d been completely naked. Her eyes were dark with passion, her throat and breasts flushed; it was inconceivable that she’d wish to end this any more than he did himself, and the physical pain of interruption flared into anger. “I’m waiting, Caro. Can’t, or won’t?”

      “Both,” СКАЧАТЬ