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this should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark
*** Before you begin reading this week’s episode here is a warning***
If you read my books you will know that they are very passionate in places, sometimes early on in a story and sometimes later, depending on the nature of the characters, and in this story we have reached that stage so if you dislike an open bedroom door then from this point forward I’d suggest you only read the posts without a warning 🙂
Something was making a tapping sound. The quiet noise had seeped into Richard’s dreams and woken him. He sat up and realised it was a gentle knock rapping on the door from the day cabin. Emma. He’d waited for her in the day cabin for half an hour but she had not come and so he’d retired for the night.
He moved to rise but before he could the door opened.
It was her. She looked angelic, illuminated in the moonlight, clothed in her white nightgown with her blonde hair loose and tumbling over her shoulders to her waist. He sat back down on the bed, pulling the sheet across his hips to cover his body while his other hand ran through his hair. “Emma, darling, you should not be in here. Go back to your cabin.” But his heart pulsed desire in to his blood even as he denied her.
She shut the door and sent him a closed lipped smile as she disobeyed.
“Emma, go back.” His voice had gained a note of command and warning but he was unable to rise and stop her as she walked towards him because the sheet was the only thing covering his decency.
“I do not want to.”
He lifted a hand warning her to keep back while inside him everything begged her to come forward. “Emma, you do not want the trouble this will cause.” Every instinct in his body called for a lack of discretion, it wanted her in his bed. He was sitting here naked with the cotton only covering his lap and nothing more and she must be naked beneath her nightdress.
She merely held his hand and took another pace forward and then her fingers brushed through his hair.
It was the sweetest agony.
“Emma.” The reprimand in his voice became stronger as he caught a hold of her wrist and pulled her hand away. It was a warning to himself too.
He had dreamed of her again last night, of her in his bed, and now the air in the room had become thin and his breathing heavier. “Emma, go, please.” He was aroused and if she looked down she would know it.
“Because I am naked and if you kiss me I’ll do far more than kiss you in return. I am no saint, sweetheart.”
“What if I want more? I want you to hold me. I have missed you.”
He could not see her face clearly, her back was to the moonlight that came through the window at the end of his cabin, leaving her features and her eyes in shadow. But he could hear a need in her voice that seemed to match the need in his blood. Yet it could not be sexual, she could have no understanding of that. She was looking for physical comfort to overcome the loneliness and grief she must be feeling, that was all, and it would be wrong of him to take advantage of this. “Emma, you do not want to be in my bed. You would regret it. Wait until England. Once you have met your family and had chance to come to terms with your grief then I will offer for you and then we will be together in a bed. If that is what you wish.”
“It is not what I wish. I want to share your bed tonight.” Her hand escaped his grip and the other let go of his hand then they both stroked through his hair as he looked up at her.
Did the girl really want to be ruined?
“Emma” he pleaded catching hold of both of her wrists as blood pulsed into his groin with a heavy rhythm of longing.
“Please do not make me leave you. I do not want to go back to my bed and sleep alone.”
He did not want her to go either but he would not be selfish… “You do. We have been alone on this ship for months. I am all you see. When you reach England what if you fall for this man your mother chose for you? You will regret this.” He did not want that to happen and yet she was young and she had known no one else as they knew each other. He loved her but when she accepted his offer he wanted to be sure her feelings were as strong as his, that it was no simply because of grief of solitude.
“I will not. I love you. You know that I do. I have done so since The Cape. I want to be with you. You said you will offer me marriage and I shall accept. Why should it matter if I share your bed now?”
God he wished he’d locked his cabin door, his resistance was fraying. But he maintained his grip on her wrists, keeping her hands off him. She bent over, regardless, her slight breasts swaying beneath her gown, he could see them brushing against the thin cloth.
He was a red blooded male, what was he to do? How could he refuse this? “Emma, get out or I shall not be accountable for my actions.”
Her lips touched his temple, her breath heating his already warm skin. “You need not be accountable. I have come to you.”
“For Heaven’s sake, enough.” His voice was a growl as he rose slightly and with the grip on her wrists toppled her sideways, tumbling her on to the bed. She squealed as his right hip pressed to her left. She must feel his erection, it was now fully engorged. The thin layer of the sheet and her nightgown were the only barriers between them – between him and the haven his body craved.
Her wrists still in his hands, he pushed her arms above her head as her gaze met his.
He had dreamt of that intelligent gaze clashing with his as he made love to her. He had dreamt of this. “If I were you I would get out now,” he whispered down at her.
She smiled, the smile of a girl who’d swum naked with the Indian servants. “You are not me. I will not go. You shall not scare me.” This was the spirit and cleverness he had first seen in her eyes on this ship. This was the spirit and cleverness that had grasped his attention and kept it.
Oh Lord. He had a young innocent woman in his bed – a woman whom he loved with utter distraction. A woman he had desperately wanted to take to his bed almost since the day she had boarded this ship.
He only had so much strength of will.
“Then let it be.” He was the supplicant now and a worshiper facing his idol. He let his weight press down on her and his erection rest hard against her hip. Let her know what she was getting herself into. He bent his head and kissed her forcefully, his need for her pulsing through him with an animalistic hunger as he slid his tongue into her mouth. Her tongue answered, fencing with his as he rocked his hips against her and pressed his thigh between her legs to part them. A groan left her throat and entered his mouth as her leg slipped over the edge of the bed and her thighs opened wide. It sounded like pleasure and it had the hint of expectation that might come from a knowledgable woman’s throat.
He was mad for her – but insane to do this – but once begun how did he stop? Let him be a weak man tonight. This sin would be no greater than others he’d committed.
He let one of her wrists go and instead covered her breast. It was firm, though not even a handful, but a beautiful texture. The point of her nipple pressed into his palm. He rubbed the heel of his hand across it, pressing and kneading as his hips – his hardened erection – pushed against her through two thin layers of cloth.
The fluid movement of her body beneath his denied any virginal fear, she pressed back up against him undulating as he did, her movements fierce with desire as her free hand fell on top of his head and then her fingers clasped his hair and her tongue fought against his.
The desire in him was a loud roar in his mind, it wanted to break her, it wanted to know everything about her body and it could not, and so instead his urge was to scare her, to make her push him away so that he would not take this too far.
His lips left hers and he kissed her cheek then bit her earlobe, before nuzzling beneath her jaw. Then he faced the ruffle of her virginal nightgown. His head lowered and sucked her protruding nipple through the cloth. There was a shocked sound but her hand still gripped in his hair and it did not pull him away. His hand ran over the cotton covering her stomach as he turned to his side taking the pressure off her hip, then instead he cupped the treasure between her legs. Her body jolted. She was warm and damp there and her essence soaked into the material as his hand pressed against her and still she did not push nor pull him away.
He rose up on to one elbow as his hand slipped to her hip and he looked down at her, willing her to tell him no and wanting her to agree to more.
In the moonlight that illuminated the bed she was painted in white and grey shadows. He longed to keep this picture of her for a lifetime. “If we are doing this,” he whispered, barely believing this, “take off your nightgown.” Her lips parted and her smile flooded with pride and satisfaction. She was not going to refuse him even now. She was not going to leave.
To be continued…
The Marlow Intrigues: Perfect for lovers of period drama, like Victoria and Poldark.
The Lost Love of Soldier ~ The Prequel #1 ~ A Christmas Elopement began it all
Capturing The Love of an Earl ~ A Free Novella #2.5
The Desperate Love of a Lord ~ A second Free Novella #3.5
The Scandalous Love of a Duke #4
The Persuasive Love of a Libertine #5.75 now included in Jealous Love, (or free if you can persuade Amazon to price match with Kobo ebooks) 😉
Jane’s books can be ordered from most booksellers in paperback and, yes, there are more to come
Go to the index
- the story of the real courtesan who inspired The Illicit Love of a Courtesan,
- another free short story, about characters from book #2, A Lord’s Scandalous Love,
- the prequel excerpts for book #3 The Scandalous Love of a Duke
Jane Lark is a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional Historical and New Adult Romance stories, and the author of a No.1 bestselling Historical Romance novel in America, ‘The Illicit Love of a Courtesan’.Click here to find out more about Jane’s books, and see Jane’s website www.janelark.co.uk to learn more about Jane. Or click ‘like’ on Jane’s Facebook page to see photo’s and learn historical facts from the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras, which Jane publishes there. You can also follow Jane on twitter at @janelark