In the Devil's Bed (Sins of the Duke Book 1) (23 page)

She stared at him, taking in every last detail of his darkened skin, long lashes, and square jaw. Nothing could stop her from looking now. There was no reason to hide her need for him.

“Jack, I want you to kiss me.”

His body tensed and his eyes widened.

“Do you not wish to?” she asked.

His lips curled in a slow smile. “
Where
do you wish me to kiss you?”

Regan’s heart thundered in her chest. Tilting her head to the side, Regan stroked her finger on the side of her neck.

“Christ,” Jack growled.

He tore off his cloak and flung it aside. Then he reached over the gap between them and pulled Regan to his side of the carriage. Without a word, he placed his palms on either side of her head, his fingers sliding under her bonnet and into her hair. Her skin tingled at his touch.

Slowly, Jack lowered his mouth to her neck and pressed his lips to the skin. Then he opened his mouth and circled his tongue along its softness.

Regan gasped at the feel of him. He leaned back, his eyes dark and hungry in the dim lighting. “And now?” he whispered.

“My mouth.”

Jack tilted her head up, then took her mouth in a hungry kiss. No gentle urgings, but ferocious want and need filled her mouth as he thrust his tongue between her lips and tasted her.

Regan wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled herself closer. She wanted every inch of their bodies touching. Devouring each other like their kiss.

Jack tugged at the strings of her bonnet then pushed it off. It tumbled down her back. His lips moved to her cheek and then the line of her jaw.

This is what she wanted. Utter abandon, without a thought.

The pins at the front of her gown slipped undone and Jack’s warm fingers slid over her skin. Pulling at the fabric, he opened it to her waist, then slowly, he slipped the bodice down. Cold air rushed in on her body, her thin chemise and light corset too sheer to block the cold. Regan moaned as her nipples tightened. She arched her back, hoping he would move his mouth to her breasts.

And he did.

His hands cupped her breasts through her chemise. Trailing his fingers up to her shoulders, he worked the lacings of her corset until it was loose about her waist. Deliberately, he slid it over her head and then went to work at her chemise, pushing it over her shoulders and down to her waist. Tilting his head, he lowered his mouth to her nipple. Regan gasped at the warmth of his mouth and dug her hands into his hair.

The wet velvet of his tongue raked against her tender skin as he sucked her nipple into his mouth and twirled his tongue around it.

“I want— to see— you, too.” Her brain seemed broken. Broken by need. Need for him. Nothing but him. And she would not be satisfied until she had laid her hands on his bare skin.

Jack looked into her eyes as he yanked at his cravat. His fingers worked quickly, tugging, and bunching the fabric.

Regan smiled. He was going to tear his shirt.

“Let me help you,” she whispered.

She paused. Once she began this, she didn’t wish to stop. Nothing could be in the way. “How long till we arrive at your home?”

He blinked several times and drew in a deep breath. “Another twenty minutes.”

Raising her hands to his shoulders, Regan slipped his coat off. “Will that be long enough?”

Jack looked down at her, a wolfish smile curving his lips. “It will only be the beginning. But I promise it will be enough—” He caressed the curve of her breast with the back of his hand. “For now.”

Just the thought of this going on and on, his body touching hers, filled Regan with desire. Her fingers fumbled at the buttons of his waistcoat as she unhooked them.

Jack’s hands cupped and caressed her breasts as she worked at his shirt. Regan closed her eyes for a moment, uncertain if she could finish the simple task of loosening his clothes with his hands on her. She pulled his white shirt over his head.

The white fabric dropped to the floor of the carriage and Regan stared at him in silence. He was so undeniably exquisite. His muscles flexed and tightened, creating ridges and valleys like she’d only seen on a Greek statue. And even those could not compare.

Raw energy coursed beneath his skin, like liquid fire beneath shifting gold. Tentatively, she stretched out her hands and placed them on his stomach. His muscles tightened at her touch as he dug his hands into the seat cushion and his chest expanded in deep breaths.

Fascinated by the movements of his hard body, Regan touched his abdomen and traced the six ridges of his stomach. His nipples, a duskier, almost earthy, color, tightened. Would he feel just as she did if. . . Regan leaned forward and slowly swirled her tongue over his nipple.

He groaned and thrust his hands into her hair. Regan smiled to herself and placed kisses over his skin, pausing to nip and lick as he had done.

Gently, he pulled her head back. “Enough,” he growled. “’Tis my turn.”

Jack lowered his hand to her gown, pooled about her waist and slid it down her thighs. She could not look away from his eyes. The passion that pulsed in them penetrated straight to her heart.

Jack ran his hands from her knees to her hips. The rough abrasion of his touch on her sensitive skin tore a moan from Regan’s lips. How could touch make anyone feel like this?

His fingers slipped between her thighs. Regan’s breath stopped and the air around them seemed to thicken.

With his free hand, he draped each of her arms over his shoulders. “Hold on to me.”

Unable to do anything but, Regan gripped his shoulders. His fingers slid between her wet folds and stroked what had to be the center of her body. She opened her mouth and gasped for air.

He stroked in slow circles, relentlessly touching the coiled tension beneath his thumb. She was so close. Regan tilted her hips towards his hands, needing just a little more. A little more.

His fingers slowed and she moaned in protest. “Don’t stop, please.”

He dropped his forehead against her shoulder, his silky hair tickling her skin. “When you come, Oi want to be inside you.”

The heat of his breath warmed her breasts. She bit her lower lip. “And?”

“Not here,” his breath came out in a hoarse rush.

Not here?
Because it was improper? “Why?”

He moaned. “Because, a carriage shouldn’t be your first time. In a bed, Oi can take time. In a carriage, it’s hard and rough.”

Regan could hardly believe it, but one of the reasons she loved Jack was that he was rough and hard. And that he treated her like a woman to be touched and driven wild, not like some possession to be preserved and controlled. “I don’t want you to take your time. I want you now.”

As a growl of need ripped from his throat, he leaned into her. The carriage swayed and her breasts brushed his naked chest. The kiss she’d meant to be soft turned hot and wild. Regan slid her hands down his body and caught hold of the buttons that secured his trousers.

Jack’s mouth stilled beneath hers, but before he could speak, Regan slipped the buttons free and his hard erection sprang free of the tight constrictions of his pants.

Groaning, Jack grabbed for her hands. Regan broke their kiss and looked into his eyes. “Whatever you do, don’t stop this. I want you. Here. Like this.”

A muscle in Jack’s throat tightened and his dark eyes widened with surprise and heat. “Whatever you wish.”

Slowly, Jack lifted his hand to her breastbone, then dragged it down her stomach, through the curls between her legs. Stroking the slick spot, Jack slid two fingers inside of her.

Regan opened her mouth and grabbed Jack’s shoulders. Her body tensed around his fingers. A tiny tear of pain shimmied through her then vanished under the intoxicating persuasion of his touch. She gasped air in short breaths. The hotness of his erection pressed against her thigh. Through the haze of pleasure, Regan gasped. “I want—“

She dropped a hand and stroked the long, hard length of him.

Jack locked eyes with her as the tip of his hard shaft caressed her where his thumb had just been, teasing her. Then, Jack placed his hands on the curve of her waist and lifted his hips in a smooth, single thrust.

Regan hissed at his largeness. It felt wonderful, but at the same time, it was too much. She was too full.

Jack raised one hand to the back of her neck. “We’re going to do this slowly.”

Regan nodded, not sure what to do now that she had him.

The rocking of the carriage and his slight lifting of his groin, urged her deeper onto his length. He moved his fingers in between their bodies, finding the spot that pleased her so much, promising it release.

Regan began to sense the rhythm. She rocked against him as he stroked and moved within her.

Suddenly, instead of too much, Jack’s hardness seemed perfect. She wanted more. The jostle of the carriage drove her harder down on his erection and a shot of pleasure squeezed her thighs against his.

Jack growled, a wordless, animal sound. He moved a hand back to her hip then began thrusting, heating her body as he stroked her from within. And as Regan’s body brushed against his with each jolt of the carriage, she dug her fingers into his shoulders.

“Look in my eyes,” he gritted. “Don’t close ‘em.”

Regan forced herself to meet his gaze as she slid up and down his length, her body moving in a hungry pace. Sweat broke in a light sheen over her body and she wanted to scream with how much she needed him.

Wave after wave of intense pleasure rocked through her. Regan cried out, her hands gripping Jack’s shoulders like they were a lifeline. Her own passion reflected in his dark eyes. He tensed beneath her and a feral moan tore from his lips as his body shook and the hard planes of his face relaxed.

Intense pleasure kept rippling through her body, starting from the place of their joining. As her body finally relaxed, she held on to him not wishing to let go.

Jack brushed his fingers over the curve of her cheek and temple, then tilted her head for his kiss. His lips brushed hers in the softest of movements. As if she was the only person in the world. And at that moment, Regan knew she would never love anyone as fiercely as she loved Jack.

Chapter 26

There was no denying it. Regan was a sweet balm for the darkness of his life. He trailed his hands over her back and slipped them into the cool, thick folds of her red hair. And he drank in the details of her face; her almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbones, and slight creases between her brows that came from her constant thinking.

For the first time in his life, he wanted to live without the darkness. He wanted the rare gift of a happy life. A life with Regan.

Because, for the first time in his life, he felt he could let down barriers that he used to keep the world out, and let Regan in.

The carriage wheels clattered over cobblestone, slowing. Damn. He wanted this ride to go on forever. And he damned well didn’t want to let her go.

Regan shifted against him and glanced towards the carriage door. “I— I think we’re stopping.”

“So, we are.” He cupped her breasts in the palms of his hands, marveling at the perfect fit. Gently, he dragged his fingers over the soft skin.

“We should dress.” A note of alarm tinted her husky voice.

Being discovered nude by his footman would certainly dampen the evening. But he was not going to encase her beautiful body in a frock if he could help it. He lowered his head and licked the tip of her nipple, savoring the contrast of his tongue against her. “Not necessary.”

Regan pushed softly at his shoulders. “I am certainly not prudish, but—”

Jack smiled at her. No she wasn’t. She was on the road to being a wanton. The perfect woman for him. And he would give her every pleasure he knew. Everything he had.

She blushed, the red of her cheeks rushing to the red of her hair at her temples. “Walking nude into your new home is not the way I should like to be seen by your servants.”

He laughed. “I shouldn’t like my servants— especially my male servants, to see you nude.” He returned his attention to her breasts, swirled his tongue around a nipple, enjoying her muscles tensing beneath his hands.

“So, I must dress,” she breathed.

Jack lifted her hips from his. Her eyes widened as her body released him. He would have preferred to stay that way, firmly lodged between her thighs. But he would be there again soon. Within the half hour if he had his way. Because he was already hard again.

She grabbed for the folds of her gown, but Jack stilled her hands gently with a touch of his fingers. He reached down and grabbed her cloak.

The dark folds cascaded over her pale body. He pulled the folds closed, then grabbed his great coat, yanked it on, and tugged it closed.

“Jack, really. . .” Regan looked down at her cloak, covering her as her fists gripped the edges together.

He leaned forward and brushed her lips with his. “Trust me.”

The footman opened the door and Jack climbed down. He reached for Regan and she slipped a single hand out from under the layers of fabric.

Jack smiled at her then swept her from the top step of the carriage into his arms. She laughed in shock and grabbed at his neck with her free hand.

Cradling her body tightly against his chest, he ensured she was totally covered then strode towards his house. God, he wanted to be inside her again. Surrounded by her welcoming heat.

His front door swung open and Jack walked by his slack-jawed, balding butler without a word. He strode across the wide entry, his boots muffled by the dark wine Oriental rug. A clock chimed, filling the silence as he headed for the wide staircase at the back of the entry.

Regan glanced right to left. “Your home— is so beautiful.”

Jack squeezed her against him, glad that she noticed. It had taken him over a year to choose the Italian paintings and Irish crystal chandeliers that would make his home a jewel of the first water.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he murmured.

Regan’s blush deepened as he rushed up the stairs.

“What will your servants think?” she whispered.

He smiled down at her. “Since they don’t know you’re my wife yet, they’ll think you’re a woman of wicked ways.”