Fool for Love (Montana Romance) (10 page)

“A man can bed his beautiful wife any time he pleases,” he whispered, hoarse and deep.

For a moment Amelia’s soul hung suspended on those words.  She lifted her eyes to meet his.  She whispered the one word that had caused more trouble in her life than any other, “Yes.”

Without a second thought, he swept her away down the deck, one hand still firm on the small of her back.  The door leading to the cabins below was close by, a stroke of good luck.  Eric whisked her through and down the corridors leading to their stateroom.  As soon as they were safely inside the room with the door shut and locked, he pulled her into his arms.

He kissed her with the fullness that only a man used to hard work and wide horizons could summon.  His lips pressed over hers, his mouth melding with hers as their bodies twined against each other.  He was so much bigger than her in every way.  The hard, broad expanse of his back rippled beneath her hands as she slipped her arms under his coat and across the warm fabric of his shirt.  She wasn’t satisfied with that contact and tugged at his shirt to pull it out of the waist of his pants.  When her fingers spread across the bare flesh that covered his firm muscles she sighed with longing, familiar and foreign at once.

Eric echoed her sigh.  His lips broke away from hers to trail across her cheek, along the line of her jaw.  He stepped into her, pushing her through the tiny stateroom and half lifting her as he pressed her against the wall.  The sudden ferocity from a man who seemed so gentle left Amelia breathless and aching.  She stood suspended on her tip-toes as he burned a trail of kisses across her neck from her ear to the high collar of her dress.  His large hand moved to cradle her swollen, tender breast.  A moan escaped from her throat.  It had never felt this good when Nick touched her.

“Take it off,” Eric whispered, his voice ragged.  His fingers moved to her collar.  “I want to feel you naked against me.”

Amelia breathed a wordless sound of agreement and twisted in his arms to face the wall.  Her hair was still pinned up from dinner.  Eric’s fingers moved to undo the row of buttons holding her captive in her fine dress.  She pressed her chest, her cheek, and her palms against the wall and closed her eyes as he worked through each button.  His breath was warm and rough against the back of her neck.  She reveled in the sensation.  He kissed each inch of flesh he exposed, laving it with his tongue until her corset wouldn’t let him go any further.

He flew through the rest of the buttons, spreading the back of her dress wide and shifting it over her shoulders.  Amelia wriggled to let the bodice drop to her waist.  Eric pulled her against him, hands spreading across her sides to push the light fabric further.  He worked the fastenings of her corset open from behind with the same patience he’d used with her buttons.  When the last one popped he tossed the corset aside and caressed her liberated torso.  He wasted no time pulling her chemise up over her head before stroking his hands along her sides and up toward her breasts.  She lifted her arms, giving him what he wanted, what she wanted.

With a deep groan he cradled her breasts, squeezing lightly.  Amelia’s head spun with the sensation of his hands holding her, his thumbs raking across her nipples.  He nuzzled her neck, kissing his way to her jaw as his fingers brought her nipples to hard points.  She could feel his touch, the moist heat of his breath, all the way down to her core.  The heat between her legs ached to be filled with him.  She was mad with need, a prisoner of her instincts.

His hands shifted down, spreading across the s
oft round bump of her stomach.

Amelia gasped, her dazed passion shattering.  There was no hiding who she was and how her wicked nature had ruined her with him touching the bulge of her belly.  Her shame flared to full force.  She tensed, hands closing around his and pulling as she tried to get away.

“No,” he murmured.  His hands stayed firmly in place, holding her stomach with insistence.  He kissed her neck, her shoulder.  “You’re beautiful just the way you are.”

Tears stung hot in Amelia's eyes.  It was a lie.  She was anything but beautiful.  She tried to shake her head, searched for the words to tell him how wrong he was.  Before she could form the argument he spun her to face him.

She was surprised that he was still fully dressed.  He smoothed his hands over her hips, tugging at the ties of her petticoat and pushing it and her dress to the floor.  He lifted her out of the pile of fabric with her stockings still on and carried her to the bed.

He still wanted her.  The fire in his eyes was as vibrant as ever.  Desire prickled through the ache of her humiliation as he laid her on her back then just looked at her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he repeated, hoarse and hungry.

He stroked her from her shoulder across her breast, down over her bulging stomach to her hip and thigh.  Amelia caught her breath.  Shame retreated to a tiny corner at the back of her mind as pleasure inflamed her.  His hand caressing her body was all she cared about in the world.  She inched her legs apart in a silent plea as he brushed h
is fingers around her kneecap.

He knew what she wanted and how badly she wanted it.  His fingers trailed back up across her thigh to delve into the thatch of curls between her legs.  She sighed with relief and a greater longing as he teased her, brushing against the sensitive nub that ached for more.  He explored deeper, slipping into the wetness that betrayed how wanton she was.

“God, I want you,” he growled, almost but not quite sinking his fingers into the part of her that screamed with need.

She whimpered when he pulled back.  As he shrugged out of his suit coat and tore at the buttons of his shirt all she could do was watch, pulse pounding.  She writhed with impatience, legs rubbing against each other.  He tossed aside his shirt, exposing the muscled plane of his chest and stomach.  Amelia panted at the sight.  He was strong and well-defined, with a light dusting of hair and dark nipples.  His pants sat low on his hips, giving her a glimpse of his abdomen and doing little to hide his erection.  But it was his expression of hunger, the way he paused in undressing to watch her wriggle on the bed, that sent her temperature soaring.

A thrill of victory sizzled through her as her movements drew his eyes straight to the aching center of her desire.  Nothing had ever felt so good.  His eyes on her were as seductive as his hands.  She wanted him to look, wanted him to be mad with desire for her.  She undulated with the force of her wickedness, biting on one finger and fondling her own breast.  Eric growled in appreciation, stumbling as he pulled off his boots.  It felt so good to know she had this power over him.  She cheated her legs apart to give him a glimpse of everything she was willing to give him.

He undid his pants and the hard spear of his penis sprung free.  She gasped, the ache between her legs growing.  He was thick and ready, the head of his shaft standing out in rigid detail and shining with moisture.  She reached for him as he tossed his pants aside and surged over top of her.  They both moaned with expectation at the contact.  She stroked his length, the soft skin a delicious contrast to the hardness beneath it.  She loved this part of a man, loved the way it felt in all its contradictions, loved the way it felt inside of her.  God help her, but she’d missed it.

He dipped low to kiss her as she played with him.  His mouth groaned against hers as their lips and tongues worked hungrily with each other.

“Stop, stop, darling.”  He lifted his hips away from her, prying her hands off of him.  “It’s too much.”

She nodded in understanding and reached around his broad back to dig her fingers into his flesh instead.  A satisfied grin played across her lips before his mouth resumed its claim on her.  Her body ached with the knowledge that she’d almost unmanned him with her touch.  When he lowered his hips against hers, rubbing his stiff length against her tender thighs, she bent her knees and lifted them high to the side to clasp him.  Wide open and panting, there could be no doubt what she wanted from him.

“God, Amelia,” he muttered in strained tones as his hips ground against hers.  He swiveled his hips between hers.  His penis ground against the shivering nub of sensation between her legs and she moaned.  “You like that?” he teased her.

“Yes!” she groaned.  “Oh yes!”  Her nails dug into his back.

He reached a hand between them, igniting a trail of pleasure across her abdomen as he sought out her center.  His fingers replaced the motion of his staff and she sucked in a shaking breath as pleasure rocked through her.  He circled that devastating part of her, causing her to hum and writhe with the sheer, heady sexuality of it.  Nick had never touched her like this.  It was a thousand times beyond her greatest expectations.

Eric couldn’t keep going.  Amelia could feel his control crack as his muscles tensed and flexed.  His hand moved away and moments later the wide head of his shaft pressed against the slick opening of her body.

“Yes,” she moaned, arching toward him.  “Please, yes!”

He surged into her without hesitation and with a rough moan that she felt all through her.  Her body contracted around him in pure bliss as he filled her.  The pleasure of being speared by him, of lying helpless in his arms as he plundered her, was so good that Amelia was pulled under.  Eric worked in her, panting and grinding with a merciless rhythm that revealed he had no control left.  He was demanding and sure, taking with a power that pushed her to the edge.  Her kind savior had become passion’s mercenary.  She loved it.  She mewled with him, mouth open as his hard shaft plumbed in and out of her.

“Oh, God, yes!” she gasped as her own pleasure broke.  Wave after wave of bliss reverberated through her.  It filled every inch of her with lust and light.  She loved the sensation, loved the feeling of his big, male body using her for his pleasure, so much that tears filled her eyes.  This was all she wanted.  She was born for this using, this pleasure.  This was who she was, she couldn’t escape it.

The bittersweet thought pitched higher as Eric groaned in release.  His body was hard and tight against hers, his final thrusts strong.  Amelia sighed as he came, feeling the lust pitch hard in his body before floating away.

She kept her arms around him, holding him close as his energy melted away.  He sank heavily over her, but even that brought giddy pleasure with it.  The roaring, carnal beast in this man in her arms had been tamed by her.  The power of their hot, damp bodies twined together, life-forces spilled into each other, warmed her soul and broke it.

She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing the pain of what she’d just done as Eric shifted to his side.  He slipped out of her but held her hips against his, keeping them pressed together.  He rubbed his hand in lazy circles on her backside but his energy was gone.

“This might just be the best day of my life,” he muttered, spent and sleepy.

Amelia couldn’t reply.  Her throat constricted around any words that came to her mind.  Her body was limp with pleasure and hopelessness.  Her destruction was complete.  It didn’t matter how far she ran, not even America could erase the truth.  She would never be any better than her mother or sisters.  Worst of all, she knew she couldn’t repay Eric’s kindness by burdening him with a whore.  Now she had to leave.

Chapter Seven

In the early morning the ship had a certain hum to it that reminded Eric of being cradled in a mother’s womb.  The faint rumble of the engines were a heartbeat as sure and steady as Amelia’s against him.  He shifted his hand from Amelia’s chest to the bump of her stomach, wondering if her little one had the same sense of warm contentment that he had right now, in bed with her.  Amelia was still asleep so she didn’t flinch or try to push his hand away from her stomach like she usually did.  She lay tucked in his arms, her back against his chest, peaceful.

He wasn’t gonna lie, he was damn happy he’d only had to sleep alone on the floor of their tiny stateroom for one night.  Amelia was everything he could have asked for.  She was beautiful and smart as a whip.  She’d hatched the plan that led to his deal with Benton Chase, which was more than he could have done without her.  Sure, there’d been stretches in the last few days where she was quiet and withdrawn-like, ruffled about something, but after all she’d been through, who could blame her.

And, dear lord, she was a firebrand in bed.

He still wasn’t sure what hit him.  He’d been with plenty of women in his time, but not one of them had made him feel like he was pouring his soul together with hers when their bodies melded.  So what if she had a past and another man’s child growing in her.  That was her England life.  As soon as the ship docked in New York, United States of America, he would stop pretending she was his wife and make her his wife for real.

A door slammed in the hallway, jolting Amelia from sleep.  She tensed against him the second she was awake.

“Morning,” he whispered close to her ear, holding her and stroking from her belly to her breast.

She didn’t reply.  Her heart rate soared as he nibbled on her neck, only she wasn’t unwinding.  Far from it.  Amelia, his beautiful, sultry, soon-to-be real wife, was as skittish as a doe in a snowstorm.  He’d just have to prove to her that he’d never let anything bad happen to her again.

He rolled her to her back and slid between her legs, balancing his weight above her.

“You know, you’re pretty as a spring morning when you’ve just woke up,” he told her before stealing a kiss.