Chapter Eight

A lady must never fall for a man’s charm, especially when they’re alone, for that will lead to scandal.

After that horrible story Lydia had told him as well as her admission that she’d been married, undeniable protection for her welled. He wanted to shield her from every bad thing she might still encounter in life, carry her away to somewhere beautiful so that she might forget the abuse she’d gone through.

How the devil had she gotten beneath his skin so quickly? He wasn’t the sort of man to fall for every woman he met, yet with Lydia, it was different. An intriguing mix of vulnerability and mystery, he couldn’t help but want to discover all her secrets.

Wrenching away briefly merely to do something as pedestrian as breathe, he met her gaze. “I want you.” There was no sense in dancing about that fact. It had been coming since the moment he’d met her and had built onward from the night he’d brought her to pleasure with his fingers and mouth.

At least in this he could make her feel wanted and desired where apparently her husband had done a slipshod job of it.

Her eyes darkened even further, and the heat of her body seeped into his. “I want you as well, and that is not a lie.” When she moved a palm to rest upon his chest, his pulse quickened. “What of your daughter? Surely, she would hear if we retire upstairs.”

“Firstly, Elsbeth is a deep sleeper, and she falls into dreamland quickly. And second, I have no intention of moving.” So saying, he tugged her over to a low sofa, and once he dropped onto it, he urged her onto his lap, arranging her legs until she straddled him. “This inevitability has been chasing us from the moment I rescued you.”

“There is no rational explanation for this.” Yet she slipped a hand to his nape to furrow her fingers through the hair there. “I am not a siren.”

“You doubt the power you already wield.” Needing to touch her, Jackson tugged the ribbon from the end of her braid. Then he buried his fingers into her thick tresses, unraveled the plaiting until the black waterfall of her hair tumbled about her back and shoulders. The faint scent of lavender wafted to his nose, and it would forever remind him of her, of this moment. “You are bewitching, Lydia, and what is more, you are worthy of finding happiness and fulfillment.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. The illumination from the fire lent her a burnished glow. “I fear you are far too charming for your own good.”

“Such gammon,” he whispered right before he claimed her lips and put every ounce of emotion coursing through his veins into that one kiss.

“Rogue,” she said against his lips, but she clung to him, held him as fiercely as he did her, and when she returned his embrace, Jackson was lost. There was no going back from this; nor did he wish to. In this one perfect moment, Lydia was his and he could well imagine her in his life in some capacity, but he wasn’t ready to commit to what just now.

Apparently, she felt daring, for she pressed kisses beneath his jaw, rained them along his neck, nipped and nibbled a path back up to his jawline while caressing a hand over his chest. Each new kiss and touch drove him closer to a loss of control, but he didn’t want to do anything that would dissuade her.

But he wanted to caress and explore her as well.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he undid the tie that kept her thin robe closed. As he glided his palms down her sides, he made love to her mouth as if he had all the leisure time in the world. Perhaps he did with the storm raging outside. Over and over, Jackson drank from her lips, moved over them with care so she wouldn’t spook or frighten, so she would know how valued she was, how he wished to worship the woman she was. The moment he drew the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips, she sighed into him, and he took full advantage by deepening the kiss. They dueled for dominance, until they were both so carried away with passion their teeth clinked together.

And damn if her hunger transferred to him as she surged upward, pressing her body into his as she chased his kisses, pushed to further deepen them.

The woman is a powder keg.

It left him in awe. With a soft growl, he again tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her—gently this time, tenderly, but it wasn’t enough.

I need so much more.

“Let me see you, Lydia. All of you.” Was it too bold a request?

Her eyes were clouded with the same passion coursing through his veins. “Only if you disrobe as well.”

“Do you plan to do wicked things to me?” The whispered quip further encouraged the hardening of his shaft when she gave him a smoky laugh. As quickly as he could, Jackson tugged the fine lawn shirt up and off his head. Seconds after he’d tossed it away, he turned his attention to separating Lydia from her clothes, and damn if his hands didn’t shake. When he’d been with his wife, everything was easy, perhaps uninspired for she wasn’t enthusiastic about participation, but Lydia was, and now he was suffering from bloody nerves.

She didn’t seem to mind, for she pressed a line of feather-weighted kisses beneath his jaw as she spread her hands over the expanse of his bare chest. “So handsome, so manly. I wish you could always go about like this.”

“We’d surely land into scandal. Imagine, a half-dressed earl and a naked earl’s daughter.”

A gasp escaped her. “Not naked yet.” Then she dragged her lips down the column of his throat.

“You will be in a twinkling.” He gathered handfuls of her nightclothes. A few tugs and her lifting onto her knees brought the garments up and over her head. When they were off her body, they hovered on his finger before finally falling to the floor to join his shirt. “So damned lovely.” Was there anything better than seeing a woman in the skin she was born with? His pulse thundered through his veins. “I can’t wait to explore.” Almost giddy with anticipation, he slipped his arms around her, and as he kissed her, he couldn’t help but slide a hand to the delectable curve of her arse.

Hell, he’d dreamed about doing just that since she’d looked at him from the road with those fathomless brown eyes.

“I won’t bid you nay, since you have already been intimately acquainted with me.” She walked her fingers down his chest and past the waist of his breeches, but when she went to fondle his hardening shaft through the fabric, he tsked his tongue and stayed her fingers.

“Patience.” While she pouted, he planted his hands on either side of her waist and lifted her, quickly planting her on the sofa. “I’ll be one second.” After he’d shed his breeches, he joined her. Unbidden, a sigh left him, and it didn’t matter that the sofa cushions were old and worn, and there was a spring working its way out of the back. “I am going to worship you now, no matter how long it takes.”

Desire sparkled in her eyes. “Amaze me, Greystone. I haven’t been impressed by a man for a long time.”

“Remembering your face the other night after I was through with you rather renders that statement moot.”

“Yes, but we didn’t go further, did we?” Then her arms were around him and she drew him close, kissed his lips while she danced her fingers down his spine.

Each caress and sweep of her hands over his skin raised his awareness of her and sent him closer to that ultimate edge. Ignoring his own need, Jackson explored every inch of her body as he’d wanted to do for far too long. Lips, tongue, and fingers played along her curves as he learned her secrets, discovered how she enjoyed being touched and pleasured, even though he’d already pleasured her earlier in the week. The warmth of her urged him onward; the faint floral scent of her teased him, and through it all, he couldn’t have enough.

This woman has become my addiction.

As he hovered over one taut, dark pink nipple, she squirmed, and with a grin, he finally took that peak into his mouth. A moan from her was his reward, so he worried that tip with his tongue before applying suction enough to make her wild. To drive home the point of how much he wanted her, he rolled the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger starting at the root and slowly moving upward. She shivered beneath him, arched her back, which put those lovely charms more fully into his care.

“I’ll admit, the first time between us, how you make me feel, wasn’t an accident. You are quite skilled.”

“Ha.” The words fed his ego, and he wanted to give her a far better showing this time.

Minutes, possibly hours went by while he explored, and the wind whistled outside. As he licked, nibbled, and fondled, Lydia did the same, and it was inevitable he would wait—teetering—on the edge of bliss, but he gritted his teeth and ignored the insistent throbbing through his painfully hard shaft.

“Your husband was a damned nodcock.” When he slipped a hand between her splayed thighs, she uttered a moan mixed with a sigh.

Passion-drugged eyes looked up at him, and she gave him a tremulous smile that went straight to his soul. “Though it was a horrible time in my life, I’d like to hope I’ve learned from it.”

“You certainly picked a better second man to join you in bed.” While he nuzzled the crook of her neck, Jackson parted her heated flesh until the swollen bud at her center came out of hiding. At the first strum of his fingers to that button, a shuddering sigh left her throat. Dear God, he remembered how she felt from the time before and vowed he could lose himself for days in her body. She moaned again, and that tiny sound hurled him closer to disaster, but he ignored the unrelenting need in order to bedevil that nubbin with varying degrees of pressure.

“I’m aware that we cannot be overly loud, but I want to know you are finding pleasure with me.” He teased one of her breasts while experimenting with friction and circling that all-important bundle of nerves.

“How can you… Heavens, that feels good.” Lydia dug her fingers into his shoulders as her hips bucked and she moved into his hand. Then she threw her head back onto the shabby decorative pillow as a surprised half-stifled scream of completion was released into the air. For a few seconds, her body went pliant, but it was the expression of bliss flitting over her face which held him captive. “Better than even the last time and took less time.” Admiration lay stamped on her face to mix with pleasure.

Damn, she was amazing. “I want you to remember me,” he managed to whisper through the tightness of his throat.

“How could I not? You have essentially rescued me twice, shown me I was wrong to judge all men by who my husband was.” Honesty shone in the brown depths of her eyes, and for one second, he couldn’t breathe. Slowly, she drifted a hand between them to cup his equipage, and he gasped. “I rather doubt you will leave my memories any time soon. And soon, you and I will part ways…” Her voice broke.

Christ, but he hadn’t realized this cottage was her destination, and that she wouldn’t be continuing on with him and Elsbeth to the Highlands. A wad of emotion lodged in his throat. “I refuse to speak on that in this moment.” Feelings graveled his voice.

“Right.” When she wrapped her fingers around his aching shaft, and a hiss of warning escaped him. “Gently, I’m nearly gone.”

“All the more reason to continue, don’t you think, Your Lordship?” While holding his gaze the whole time, the maddening woman pumped her hand up and down his length, apparently in an effort to drive him insane. That coupled with his title nearly had him prematurely spending.

“Lydia…”

With each stroke, acute tingling went through his stones to enhance his need. Not to be outdone, he contented himself with teasing her nipples. All too soon, they both panted with mutual need. He kissed her with such intensity, he was afraid he would throw himself over that edge, but with every plunge of his tongue into her mouth, he told her exactly what he would do to her body in mere seconds. She left off manipulating his shaft in favor of clutching his shoulders, and each time she bumped her hips into his, her body brushed against his straining member.

Soon he would be lost.

After repositioning himself between her bent knees, it was a natural progression to position his tip at her opening, and at her nod of encouragement, he flexed his hips. There was something to be said of bedding a widow instead of an innocent; it made everything easier. With a sigh, he penetrated her, sank stones-deep into her honeyed heat, and their moans blended together. The welcome from her humbled him so greatly that he paused, snug inside her passage, and rested his forehead against hers.

“Thank you for this. We both needed it, I think.”

She laid a palm against his cheek. “It has certainly helped me heal, and that was something I never expected on this journey.”

The sensation of falling, pin-wheeling, tumbling assailed him as he came to another truth. If he wasn’t careful, he would fall in love with this woman, and he didn’t know if he wanted that for his life.

A gentle bump of her hips into his jostled his shaft and focused his thoughts. Now was not the time or the place to lose himself in his thoughts.

“Jackson.” She nipped at the side of his neck. “I want to feel you moving in me.”

The whisper was all the permission he needed. “Of course.” Taking her hands, he threaded their fingers together and pinned hers to the pillow. Only then did he begin to stroke slowly into her, and with each silky glide of his body against hers, the tumble down that slippery slope began again.

She watched him, and he stared back. In those moments when they moved together in a dance older than time, he could swear their souls connected, bonded, were somehow exchanged until they temporarily became one. What he wouldn’t give for the right to protect this woman, to continue showing her she was more valuable than what her husband had made her fell.

All too soon, the tingling need in his stones grew so that he could no longer ignore the rawness of it. His rhythm shifted and changed, became more frantic. Deeper and faster his thrusts grew. Lydia held him in the cradle of her thighs by wrapping her legs around his, and his strokes went ever faster, even more frantic until their bodies crashed against each other. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed in the air to blend with their moans and sighs. When a large gust of wind traveled down the chimney to scatter a handful of embers into the room, it was merely the image of how joining with her was making his body feel.

When she inhaled, probably to scream, he kissed her and took the sound into himself. The last thing they needed was for Elsbeth to come downstairs. Lydia went over the edge with such force the contractions in her core coerced him to join her before he was quite ready.

Release rushed over him, plowed through him with such intense pleasure that he caught his breath. At the last second, he tamped the urge to shout her name, but he repeated it in a whisper against her lips like a litany. For several seconds, his heart pounded while he was lost to the glory of that world where only lovers inhabited, a void of brilliant light before coming back to himself with a racing heartbeat and sweat cooling his back.

“Dear God, that was amazing,” he whispered against her neck before rolling onto his side and taking her with him. “ You are amazing.”

“I have no words just yet.” Lydia snuggled into his chest with one arm about his waist and her legs tangled with his. “I am still enjoying tiny little flutters.”

“Good.” He wrapped his arms around her and reveled in the luxury of holding her. For long moments they remained like that, existing in the silence with the wind and the snap of the fire. “Please know I will protect you, for as long as you should have need.”

“I appreciate that. Knowing Malcolm, he will not have been frightened off permanently.” When she huffed, the warmth of her breath skated over his chest to tighten his muscles. “The stupid thing about it is, if he just asked, I would have given him the cottage. I don’t want it.” She shook her head. “This place is full of horrible memories, of blood stains and cracks, of broken dreams.”

“You have dreamed and fulfilled new ones,” he reminded her then nuzzled the crook of her shoulder. “If this is the last tie to your past, snip it. Make a clean break. You never know what your future might hold, and then you won’t have to worry or hide.”

“I will think over every avenue during the storm. Hopefully, by the time you and Elsbeth must leave, I’ll have an idea of what I need to do.” Sadness reflected in her expressive eyes. “But I shouldn’t rush my fences, as the saying goes.”

“Right.” He nearly choked on the word, for the very real possibility of them separating pressed in upon him. “For the time being, we will make the best of it.”

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she put a hand to his nape, urged his lips down to hers, and then kissed him.

And the slide began all over again.