The Truth by Jane Lark ~ a free book exclusive to my blog ~ part thirty-six

The Truth

© Jane Lark Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark,

this should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15,16,17,18 ,19,20,21,22,23,24,25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35

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I thought we’d have an extra post tonight.

*** 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 🙂

Richard

Emerald looked at him with an expression that gloated and glowed with success as she moved from beneath him, getting up to take off her nightdress, as ordered.

“We will need to be quiet,” he whispered as she stood. “Joseph is on the deck above.”

Her fingers lifted to the buttons at the neck of her nightgown and began sliding each one free, slowly. His siren. Was she deliberately tormenting him or was it uncertainty? Did she even know what happened between a man and a woman in a bed?

When the buttons were free the material hung open to her stomach, with far more buttons undone than needed to be. She smiled at him as her long slender fingers grasped the cloth covering her thighs and then in one swift movement she pulled the nightdress up and over her head.

He felt as though someone had thrown him into the sea or pushed him off the rigging. He was in awe of her, stunned into silence, as she stood there in the moonlight and let him look. She was beautiful, tall and slender, but not thin, she had soft tempting curves in her hips and her thighs that had been hidden by her skirt and petticoats. Her body called for his hands while her small pert breasts begged for his mouth as her nipples protruded from their crests.

Her hand rose and swept her long hair off one shoulder. She stood before him without shame. Where had she learned to be so brazen? Swimming with servants…

“Emma.” He lifted his hand, calling her back to him. Now he did not want her to go. Now he was only desperate for her to stay. All his thoughts of denial had gone. This was inevitable. He was determined to marry her anyway. What did it matter if they pre-empted the date?

He moved to let her lay down next to him, naked as he was naked. Her soft body felt cooler than his. When she looked up at him he could see no fear or reservation in her eyes – there had been none in her movements. Was it because there was a lack of knowledge, though?

He brushed her hair from her brow and touched the scar there. “If you stay in my bed and we join as a man and wife would do you know what will happen? Do you even know what you are agreeing to?” This would be her first time. What did a girl learn of such things?

Her eyes laughed at him, silver and black in the moonlight. “I am not ignorant. I have heard people speak and I have seen what animals do.”

“That is blasphemy.” He let amusement ring in his voice as he leant more across her and his fingers stroked over her brow and then her cheek. “We are not animals,” he teased in a whisper.

“We are just like them in this.” she responded, his intelligent woman who analysed life through the eyes of innocence.

“Except that we know love, do animals know love?” Before she began debating the fact, as he knew she would, he claimed her lips. Perhaps he had been like an animal in all his other encounters but not in this. This was no act of sexual gratification this was about her.

“I love you,” he whispered as he broke the kiss and looked down at her breast. He bowed his head and claimed it in his mouth. The hard bud was an erotic thing.

She moaned and her body arched up to him. His hand slipped to her narrow waist his fingers reached to the small of her back. Her hips may have been broader than he had imagined but she was still so exquisitely delicate, it felt like touching a very thin, fine, china that one held carefully so it would not break.

He slid a little down the bunk and turned his attention to her other breast, not wishing to exclude one. She laughed , a light low sound.“Mmm,” she murmured as she pressed up against his thigh. He smiled against her breast, then chased the peek of her nipple with his tongue, circling and playing. “Ahh,” another sound escaped her lips as the movement of her lower body sought to match the rhythm he’d formed earlier when he’d pressed against her. The ship gently rocked them, side to side, back and forth.

It had been years since he’d lain with a woman on one of his ships. Women were bad luck on a ship, celibacy was safer. But God on the sea every sensation seemed to multiply tenfold.

Her whole body was temptation to him. He was going to relish every inch. He slid farther down the bed and kissed the skin below her breast, then the skin beside her navel, then her navel. “You are beautiful,” he whispered, descending lower and kissing below her navel.

Her hands slid free of his hair. “So are you.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his breath stirring the hair at the juncture of her thighs.

“Yes.”

“Then lift your hands above your head and to do not try to touch me, only let me touch you.”

Her arms rose and lay where they had been when he’d held her wrists.

Yes she trusted him. What had he done in his life to deserve such a woman? He would spend his whole life worshipping her. He’d be devoted to her for evermore. He kissed the very edge of her hip, where her pelvic bone pressed against her skin, then slid lower and his hand rested on her thigh. Her knee moved outward, her legs instinctively opening. He kissed the hollow where her thigh joined her pelvis.

The muscle in her legs shivered beneath his touch as he opened her thighs wider and moved to kneel between them, looking down at her. His idol had become a sacrifice. The dampness on her skin from the warmth of the night shimmered in the moonlight adding an ethereal, otherworldly, quality to his endeavour.

He had no words – there were no words to describe how he felt. He’d never known this emotion before, it gripped about his heart like a clenching fist. His gaze lifted to her face and met hers, but then she looked down. The sheet did not cover him anymore. Her lips parted a little. She had thought she’d known – but she had not known, he could see it. There was surprise in her expression.

A smile parted his lips. This, her innocence, was a novelty he would relish. His fingertips pressed into her thighs as he pulled them wider and looked down. He leant and kissed her there, then kissed her inner thigh, then kissed her there again. Her muscles tensed, uncertain and unknowing, but he did not cease. He kissed her tenderly on the bud at the fore of her sex and relished her womanly scent and let his tongue taste, tentatively. Her whole body jolted, the surprise now definite. But he did not cease he tasted her more deeply to let her learn the feelings and grow accustomed to his presence at the apex of her thighs. Her hands came down and settled on his head.

He stopped kissing her. “Lift your arms above your head. I asked that you do not touch me.”

“Oh.” It was a huff of complaint and a sound of happiness wrapped into one as his finger slipped into her. He used his tongue and his fingers and within moments she was moaning, sighing and fidgeting. Her body rocking up against his invasion as the ship rocked them both. His free hand slid beneath her bottom and lifted her hips.

“Richard,” she whispered into the air above them, her muscles trembling.

She could not understand this – she could not know these sensations or what to expect. He was probably confusing her. If she had imagined anything when she had come to his cabin she had imagined animals.

He kissed the small bud of her sex then sucked it gently as his fingers continued their invasion. Her body shivered, despite the warm night. He was determined to help her reach a conclusion. He’d heard men say it was impossible for a virgin. He did not think it impossible for Emma with her challenging nature. He rose up and leaned over her, while his fingers continued pressing into her. He met her gaze. Her eyes were hazy with the discovery of the unknown.

Her fingers had clasped the sheet above her head but now one hand lifted again and brushed over the stubble on his jaw. He did not tell her to take her hand away.

His caress became more determined, harder and faster, sliding in and out, rubbing up against the front of her passage and pelvic bone. Her gaze fractured, losing focus and her fingers fell and cling to his shoulder. “Richard,” she begged on a harsh whisper full of doubt but then her body suddenly flushed with glistening sweat and she broke, jolting and tumbling over ecstasy’s edge. Her fingernails pressed into the skin of his shoulder and her other hand grasped at his arm as her warm fluid surrounded his fingers and her inner muscle clenched in spasm . She had done it. This innocent beauty. She could be no more precious to him.

“Emma…” He leant over her seeking permission and preparing to claim her in full.

“What was that?” she whispered, as he set his hands on the sheet beside her shoulders, his body above hers.

“The little death. Did you feel like you died?”

“And went to heaven…”

“I’ll take you to heaven again, if you stay with me now. But if you wish to leave you must say. I will let you go.”

“I do not want to go.” Her fingers touched his cheek, then slid to the back of his head and pulled him down so that he would kiss her.

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

The Illicit Love of a Courtesan #2

Capturing The Love of an Earl ~ A Free Novella #2.5

The Passionate Love of a Rake #3

The Desperate Love of a Lord ~ A second Free Novella #3.5

The Scandalous Love of a Duke #4

The Dangerous Love of a Rogue #5

The Jealous Love of a Scoundrel #5.5

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) 😉

The Secret Love of a Gentleman #6

The Reckless Love of an Heir #7

Jane’s books can be ordered from most booksellers in paperback and, yes, there are more to come

Go to the index

For

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

The Truth by Jane Lark ~ a free book exclusive to my blog ~ part thirty-five

The Truth

© Jane Lark Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark,

this should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15,16,17,18 ,19,20,21,22,23,24,25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34

*** Before you begin reading this week’s episode here is a warning***

Chapter Eleven

Richard

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.

“Why?”

“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.