Rogues, Rakes & Jewels

He had invaded and conquered her thoughts and heart, and—oh no … how much of the heated conversation between her brother and herself had he heard? But he was already taking long, hard strides toward her, taking both her hands to his lips, saying her name with a voice that caressed. She needed him … oh, but this was the man, the hero she had been dreaming of all her young adult life. His voice was low, husky, demanding, “Jewels, I want you to trust me—trust me now …”

The next thing she knew she was in his arms. She wanted to be there, but trust? What she was feeling had nothing to do with trust. How could she trust him? That was another matter. He was a stranger. She knew absolutely nothing about him, and how could she give herself to anyone when she was so desperately embroiled in such scandalous behavior herself? She was untrustworthy. It dawned on her that if he ever found out she was Babette …

She pushed against him, but he had her hand and said, “You want to run, so then, let’s run together …”

And he led her to the sea …

*

The smell of salt filled the air, and seagulls hovered and called as they glided and dove into the shallows. Small waves of foam crashed and rolled and crashed again on their way in to the beach, and Jewels suddenly wanted to just collapse.

All of it was becoming too much, too much to shoulder, and here was this big man with a promise in his eyes, deep in his eyes, that seemed to offer protection. Protection? But how could she believe in him? How—when so much pointed a finger and said he was nothing more than a London beau out on the prowl. Yet, her heart wanted him and her heart created emotions that clouded all other considerations.

Her heart had whispered his name in the quiet darkness of her room when she tried to sleep. Her secret dreams said Ryker was the one. Her mind squealed the word no at her, but her heart gently said yes; oddly enough the gentle whisper won out over the shout.

He laid down his big black cloak on the sand on a cozy spot nestled behind the tall grassy dunes, he offered her his hand, and she gave it …

He helped her down to her knees and went down to join her, easing her into a sitting position. She sat, put her hands into her lap, hung her head, and began softly trying to tell him something of what was troubling her mind, but instead she started to cry.

He took her into his arms and petted her. “Shh … there, there, love …” he said as he held her tightly in his embrace.

And then for a very long time, he cooed to her, whispered soft nothings that meant only, I am here for you. He did exactly what she needed. She didn’t know how long they stayed there like that before she felt his kiss on her forehead, before he took her long hair and spread it away from her face and bent to kiss her nose.

His voice was a caress when he said, “Jewelene—I am not going anywhere. You can reach out for me—just reach for me when you need me.”

“I cannot. My … my problems … are my own …” She sniffed.

He sighed. “You are so lovely, and I shouldn’t have you here alone with me like this, not now—this isn’t what you need …”

“Oh, but it is, Rye. It is exactly what I need. I don’t want to think anymore … I don’t want to problem solve … I—”

His lips were on hers and parting her own as she leaned back and took in his scent, his masculinity, and his overpowering strength. She wanted that strength. She wanted to rely on him. He was what she needed, hungered for, and desperately hoped was as right as it felt. She wanted to be in his strong arms. She wanted him to satisfy the yearning she had to be with him, to feel his touch, and oh—his touch was magic! It awoke an erotic thirst in her she hadn’t been aware was there under the surface, dormant and ready.

She didn’t know how he had worked off her spencer, but it was off, and he had her breasts free from the bodice of her day gown. He hiked up the A-line of her gown, and she helped him pull away the soft cotton undergarments.

How could she? What was wrong with her? She had never let a man do more than kiss her before him—society dictated that she was supposed to save herself for her husband, for the man she loved … and then it hit her hard.

He was the man she loved, and she did so with all her heart and soul. She wasn’t sure she saw him clearly. She wasn’t sure she knew him yet, or what he really stood for—how could she? But, oh, she wanted him.

She had never felt this way before, and a sudden and total desperation to surrender to him took over her mind and banished any logic that tried to intrude.

She surrendered to his invasion and giggled nervously as he fumbled to get her gown out of his way and undo the buttons of his breeches, and she was filled with the joy of her passion.

He had her breasts in his large hand and whispered husky words of praise she scarcely heard as her body was flooded with primal desire. When he bent his head to lick at her nipples she understood why friends at school had gone off into the night to meet with town boys. This was what they were looking for—this was pleasure beyond thought.

And then he opened her nerve-endings for more as he began nibbling and suckling at the pert hard buds, and she arched to him with a groan she couldn’t believe came from her.

She wanted more of him, more of his touch, more of his kisses, his licking and nibbling and …

“You beauty, you—I have never felt …” he whispered as he licked and kissed a path down her bare midriff to her belly.

It was still cool outside for spring, but she didn’t feel it—didn’t think about being exposed and only partially hidden by the dunes. In truth, she had thrown caution (as was her style) to the winds.

Hunger vibrated through her body. Wanting beat a drum so loudly all she could hea

r was the need it spelled. She felt only him as she experienced raw passion while his tongue moved between her thighs, sending her into a convulsion of pleasure she had never dreamt possible. Instinctively she lifted herself off her butt, giving him full exposure as his fingers found and worked her with a quick vibration that sent her over the edge, and she exploded with a shout of ecstasy she had never imagined she could feel. She had closed her eyes during her pleasurable aftershocks, and when she opened them she saw that he had released his huge cock …

They raised horses at Henshaw, and she knew just what a cock looked like and what it was for. She stared at it a long moment, marveling at its size and girth.