Seduced (19 page)

“Is it nosy to want to know what you desire?” she asked. “You seem to read my own desires easily.”

“What I desire, my dear,” he said, motioning her up and down, “is you. But it leads to an interesting question. What do
you
desire when you read this book?”

She shivered. “I admit most of these acts described are so foreign to me that I couldn’t determine if I’d like to try them. But what I’ve mostly read about is how to please a man. I thought it might help me in the future.”

His smile fell. “Just in the future?”

“No.”

“And do the things that please a man interest you? Arouse you?” he pressed, setting the book down and catching her hand to draw her closer.

She swallowed hard. “Yes. After you…after you…kissed me on my…against my…”

“Quim?” he offered. “Sex?”

She nodded. “After that night, I read that a lady can do the same for a man. And I admit that sounds…interesting.”

He laughed. “
Interesting
. Yes, it would be that.”

“May I try it?”

His eyes went wide. “You truly want to take me into your mouth?”

“I will likely not know what I’m doing but, yes.”

“Very well,” he said. “But first…”

He caught her cheeks and kissed her again, hard and passionate, driving against her, pulling her free of her thoughts and drowning her in sensation. When she was dizzy and off kilter, he let her go.

She took a deep breath and kissed his neck, tasting him as he had done for her before. She let her mouth trail down his flesh, reveling in the slightly salty hint of his skin, the way his muscles contracted when she licked him. He grunted, his hands fisting at his sides as she swirled her tongue around his flat nipple, then down the apex of his body and over his stomach. She traced the muscles there that had always so fascinated her, and he caught his breath.

At last, she went to her knees and came face to face with his cock. She tentatively gripped him, feeling the impossible softness wrapped around steel, such a dichotomy. She stroked him in her hand, sinking into the feel of him against her flesh. He groaned, and she darted her gaze up.

“Did I hurt you?”

He laughed. “You’re murdering me, Letitia. But I like it.” He covered her hand with his and tightened her grip a little, then helped her as she stroked him. “Do it like this.”

She nodded, and he released her so she could try by herself. His hands came down on her shoulders, balancing there as she touched him. She thought of the book as she did so, the images and descriptions of how to take a man into one’s mouth.

The round head of his cock teased her as she gripped him, and she leaned forward to trace it with the tip of her tongue. He bucked above her, letting out a long curse. She smiled and repeated the action, just licking him like she would a sweet made to savor. Thinking of the book again, she put her mouth over him and took him inside.

“Letitia,” he grunted, his hands tightening on her shoulders.

She began to gently pump over him, continuing to work her hand at his base as she licked and sucked the head of his cock. He twitched against her, his breath coming harder as she worked. And she loved it. Loved the feel of him filling her mouth, loved the proof that she was driving him wild. Loved the power this act gave her.

But what she loved more than anything was that he seemed lost in her touch. Where with Noah, she had always fought a losing battle, Jack wanted her.
Her
. A once-wallflower, a woman not even her husband would touch, and yet this man, this beautiful man who could easily have any woman, desired
her
.

“Stop,” he grunted, grabbing her upper arms and dragging her up his body. He pushed her backward, toward her bed, his dark eyes flashing.

“Did I do it wrong?” she asked, heart throbbing with both anxiety and anticipation.

“No,” he said through grinding teeth. “I just want to be inside of you.”

He crushed her to him, his mouth hard against hers. There was no doubt what was he was doing now. He was claiming her as he’d once promised to do. And she sank into his kiss with nothing but pleasure at the thought.

“Turn around,” he ordered, spinning her to face the bed.

Her back was to his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, stroking long, rough fingers over her bare breasts, making her shiver and quake as pleasure spread from there outward, pulsing between her legs, making her fingers and toes tingle.

“I woke up,” he growled against her ear. “And you were gone. And all I wanted was you. Like this. All night.”

He bent her forward, his arms around her hips to lift them higher, his foot between hers to make her spread her legs open to him. She gripped the edge of the bed now, clinging for purchase as she awaited the invasion to come.

He placed the flat of his hand on her sex, slipping two fingers into her wet and ready channel. She heard his breath quicken, and he withdrew and positioned his cock there instead.

“Hurry,” she groaned, pushing back against him and forcing him inside just a bit. Her body opened for him, and tonight there was no pain. Just pleasure as he did as she asked and inched into her.

“Letitia,” he grunted, his fingers digging hard into her hips. He would leave marks that way. She didn’t care. She pushed back and took him fully inside, and for a moment they stood like that.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered.

She looked over her shoulder at him, confused. “Touch myself?”

He nodded, his dark gaze heated and filled with dangerous drive. “Put your hand between your legs and touch yourself while I take you.”

She bit her lip. She had never touched herself. The very idea of it had never occurred to her until a few nights ago, when Jack taught her all these wonderful places to bring her pleasure. Now he was pushing her farther, making her a part of her release in a way she’d never been before.

Leaving one hand fisted on the bedclothes, she let the other snake down to touch her sex. She could feel the slick base of his cock as he stretched her, and her body twitched of its own accord.

“Do what comes naturally,” he moaned, drawing back and then thrusting forward.

He was slow at first, grinding in circles within her. She found the same hooded bundle of nerves that he had sucked on the first time they made love and gently pressed it with her thumb. The pleasure in her body increased with the touch, and she bounced her hips back hard to meet his thrust.

“Just like that,” he moaned. “Touch your clitoris.”

She circled the nub—her clitoris—slowly, then quickly. Hard, then with more finesse. As his thrusts increased in speed, she found a rhythm to keep up with him, squeezing him with her internal muscles, grinding against her own hand.

The pleasure built and the room began to blur. Her focus began to spiral to one place, that place where their bodies writhed together. Her whole world became the building dam of release, the aching need to feel it. It was her obsession in those heated moments, and she reached for it as her moans grew louder, his hips moved faster.

He leaned in and closed his mouth on her shoulder, sucking first and then gently biting. “Come for me, Letitia. I want to feel it.”

His words seemed to be what her body needed. She jerked against her hand as powerful waves of pleasure poured through her. She bit her tongue to keep from screaming and bringing her staff to check on her well-being, but she couldn’t stop the panting of her breath, the way her body lurched in time to his.

“That’s right,” he groaned, grinding into her quivering body. Then he let out a moan of his own and she felt him withdraw, felt the heat of his release against her back as he came between them.

She collapsed, half on her bed, half off, and he curled his body around her, his arms holding her, his cock wedged against her bottom. They lay there for what seemed like forever, though it couldn’t have been more than a few moments. Then he shifted, uncurling himself from her and searching around her room.

She watched him cross to the basin where a washcloth was draped. He wetted it and came back to gently wash his essence from her skin.

“
That
was worth riding across half of London for,” he said, leaning in to kiss her neck.

She rolled toward him, cupping his head and lifting her mouth to his. The kiss was slow this time, not filled with desperation of pounding need. She took her time, exploring his lips, his tongue, tasting him, memorizing him.

When he withdrew, his gaze was unfocused. “
Very
worth it,” he added.

She frowned as he moved for his trousers and began to dress. “You’re leaving?”

He nodded. “I doubt you want me to be found in your bed, my lady. I think we’ve established that you want this affair to remain secret, so as not to destroy your future chances.” He straightened and put his hands on his trim hips. “Or am I wrong?”

She flinched at the pointed expression on his face. He was challenging her and she had no rejoinder to give. The fact was that seeking out some other man, a more appropriate mate, was hardly on her mind at present. But if she said that to him, he would be uncomfortable, perhaps even mock her for her foolishness.

She wasn’t ready for that.

“How did you manage to end up on my windowsill?” she asked, dodging the question instead. “It’s very high up and there isn’t even a tree to aid your ascent.”

He stared at her for a beat, then smiled. “I’m a criminal, my lady, don’t ever forget. Scaling buildings with treasure inside is practically second nature.”

“Treasure?” she repeated with a laugh. “I suppose if you want to raid my jewelry box, it is in my dressing room through that door.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “I have gotten exactly the treasure I came for, Letitia. And now I will say good night.”

He opened her window and gave her one last glance before he disappeared with frightening suddenness. She gasped and rushed to the window, heedless of her nudity. He was already halfway down the side of her house, using the decorative elements as hand and footholds. He gave her one last wave and ran off across her lawn toward the small alleyway behind the house.

She shook her head as she closed her window and returned to her bed to grasp her discarded nightgown. But as she tugged it over her head, her smile disappeared. Jack had claimed he got what he’d come for. And when he left, he’d made no attempt to arrange another meeting with her.

Was he bored of her already? Had this final claim on her body been enough to satiate whatever lust she’d managed to briefly inspire?

She climbed beneath the covers and leaned over to blow her candle out, but as she stared at the ceiling in the darkness, she knew sleep would not likely come for a while. And when it did, she had to believe she would have very troubled dreams, indeed.

Jack stared at the pile of documents sitting before him and yet he didn’t see a damn thing. He cursed and got up from his desk, pacing the length of his office as he tried in vain to clear his mind from the unwanted thoughts that seemed intent on invasion.

But every time he closed his eyes, he thought of Letitia. Letitia on her knees with his cock in her mouth. Letitia bent over her bed, mewling out her release as he took her until he nearly lost consciousness from pure pleasure. And worst of all, Letitia standing over him, gently touching him and offering him comfort he didn’t deserve.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

The door behind him slammed shut, and he spun around to find Hoffman leaning against it, his arms folded. “Fuck is right.”

Jack sighed at the angry look on his right hand man’s face. That was never a good thing. “What are you in a fit about, Hoffman?”

I’ve been standing there for over a minute and you didn’t notice,” Hoffman grunted. “Your distraction’s going to get you killed, Jack.”

“In my own house?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

Hoffman’s jaw set further. “You know your house ain’t safe,” he said. “Right now you’re likely in danger everywhere you go, boss.”

Jack pursed his lips. Hoffman was right, of course. This mystery person after his crown was really the only villain truly in the race anymore. And he was doing well, whoever he was. He’d intercepted more of Jack’s merchandise while Jack was out with Letitia, and another of Jack’s men was missing.

Jack shuddered at the thought. “Now that we’ve gotten through the pleasantries, what is your report?”

Hoffman flopped himself into a chair across from Jack. His lined face was filled with concern. “I have only one thing to say. I know who the mystery man is. The last one in search of your crown.”

Jack straightened, his mind finding its lost focus at last. “Who?”

“Seamus O’Malley.”

The name hung in the air between them, loud as a gunshot and just as damaging. Jack knew that name.
Everyone
knew that name, at least everyone in their business. Seamus “Madman” O’Malley was an infamous highwayman known for his brutality against his victims. He wasn’t only a thief, but a ruthless murderer, sometimes just for murder’s sake.

“He runs Dublin,” Jack said, his mouth dry.

“Well, he wants London,” Hoffman said softly. “He wants
you
, Jack.”