Claiming His Ward: Sweet & Sexy Page 4

  The confusion in his eyes settled into sorrow as he rested his gaze on her. “Elsie.”

  His tone frightened her. It was full of deep feeling and remorse. He had come to her in the dark of the night. She felt an ominous foreboding. Whatever they were, however they hurt, she had to hear the words. She offered him a soft smile, hoping to hearten him in to task he had come for. “Yes?”

  “It’s not safe for you here any longer. I have a sister in the country. I can arrange for your transportation tomorrow.”

  His words struck her like a thunderclap. Everything within her groaned, and she could feel the pain etching itself onto her face. Tears that had so recently been quelled sprang back to her eyes. Her lips quivered. An urgent panic appeared on Jack’s features. He reached out to her, seeking to comfort her even now, and she did not shy away. She trusted him unwaveringly. She knew this was the impasse they had been working toward in the past months. She could not stay any longer. He did not want her there any longer. She was a burden. She had a love to offer, but he did not accept. How could he? He was not hers to have. He pulled her fast, and she cried into his shoulder.

  “I did not mean you are in jeopardy. What I had meant to say is that you can no longer trust me. I can no longer trust myself.”

  The space of three sentences. That was all it took. A battle warred within. He couldn’t trust himself—that is what she latched to. She knew the innocence within her was a barrier, that he spoke of things she could not yet understand. The things that happened between a man and a woman. The things she had been warned of but never told of. The things she felt deep inside of her breasts that she desired to explore with the man who held her tight. He may not trust himself, but she did. She trusted him with every fiber of her soul. How could she say these things? The words would not come, only the confused tears of a rejected woman.

  Jack licked his lips. “I love you. I have loved you for longer than I care to say. You have grown into a beautiful woman. And now we are alone. Do you see? Do you see that I can no longer trust myself with you?”

  Elsie’s demeanor transformed from tear-shod to wide eyed. He stepped back from her, keeping her at arm’s length and removing his comforting touch. His eyes swept over her body, and she became very aware she was only dressed in her sleeping gown. The night air blew in from her open window, and her light gown fluttered. The silk brushed against her sensitivity. The thin fabric hid little of her body from him. The vulnerability of nakedness overcame her. So little separated them now. She breathed deeply, fighting to control the rising emotion in her breast. Jack’s eyes trailed over her body. His jaw slackened open, and a fire registered in his countenance. Desire. Deep, burning desire. The man within him was reacting to the woman that stood there before him. She knew she should go. She knew she should cover herself. A long, unsatisfied yearning battled with the modest decency Jack himself had installed in her. But now she stood before that man—exposed with only one longing.

  Jack’s eyes slammed shut. His teeth set firmly. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair. He was a man unhinged. “I am so sorry, my dear. I had not meant for it to come out like that. You do not need to fear me. I will behave like a gentleman.” He removed his fingers from his tousled hair and dug them into the back of his neck. “Now that Lauren is not here to keep my attentions in check, I fear my emotions will get the best of me. You deserve so much more. You deserve a young man to live the rest of your life with. I will send you to my sister.”

  His hands behind his neck, his elbows spread wide, his shirt unbuttoned and exposing the fine hairs of the firm chest beneath, he was everything she wanted and could not have. He stood before her, both of them exposed and vulnerable. His chest heaved, and Elsie could see the battle of restraint. The silence remained. He was wrong. She did not desire a gentleman—not now. What he thought she deserved and what she truly desired could not be more opposite. Jack’s hands dropped, and he turned to leave. He had finished what he had come for, and now he was leaving her. She could not let him go, not when they were so close. So close to fulfilling her dream.

  Jack had thought to throw up one last barrier, but now—like this—in the moonlight, in the silence, with his desire laid bare, that barrier came crashing down. She did not accept it. She would not accept it. She would not be the woman who had her life arranged for her. She would not accept a dictated fate. Honor. Chivalry. The means genteel society employed to protect her. But Elsie no longer wished for Jack’s protection. In this moment, she wished for his touch. She reached out to him. Her boldness allowed only the lightest of caresses, but it restrained him. He turned to her. The tears returned to her eyes, as did the pain to his. There had been so much pain tonight, and yet a timorous smile played on her lips. She did not feel pain, not now. She invited him. She was not scared of him as he feared, not in the least. Her lips parted and, wordlessly, she pleaded with him not sacrifice himself to gallantry—not tonight. Not now. A corresponding brightness illuminated his features, foretelling a hope welling up in his soul.

  She was quiet — subdued — but her words were clear. “I do not want to go.”

  She dared to hope. Jack’s hand rose to hers, caressing the fingers she rested on his bicep. “You desire to stay?”

  “I desire to stay with you.”

  Jack gripped her hand within his, and his firm strength stayed her trembling fingers. His intake of breath was sharp, and his words were strangled with passion. “You did not hear what I said? My love for you will not permit you to stay here. Your presence here would be torture if I could not have you.”

  “Then have me.”

  Jack’s eyes widened. His chest filled. Her own boldness shot lightning through her veins. Every fiber called for him to seize her, to take her, to have her. Her womanhood is swelled, and her core flexed and tightened to hold back the torrent threatening to break loose. Jack’s shoulders tensed. His bicep flexed to iron under her fingertips.

  Barely restrained hunger intoned his response with a growling darkness. “Do you know what you are saying, my girl?”

  Her grip strengthened around his. His breaths came in stiff shutters. He stood rigid, every muscle alive with tension and energy. She could feel it arising from his body. His desire infused her with confidence. She was coveted.

  Elsie straightened and stepped closer, her voice now firm. “I am not a child any longer. I am a woman. Yes, I know what I am saying, Jack. I do not want to go off and live with your sister. I do not want to live with anyone else. I want you.” Her voice broke and she collected herself, only managing to whisper her forbidden desire. “I want you.”

  His jaw set, and water glistened in his eyes. With a gentle hand, Jack brushed the soft skin of her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. His lips parted as she nestled into his strong hand. Her eyes closed, reveling in his nearness. He moved slowly, leaning into her and pulling her to him. Their lips brushed together, and a jolt of excitement riveted through her core, quivering in her thighs. The sensations forced a gasping intake of air, and she open for him. He pressed to her lips, connecting their bodies and pouring his love into each gentle kiss. Her palm flattened against his chest, not to push him away, but an intimate embrace between lovers. Heat radiated from his chest, and that one touch confirmed the reality of his body against hers. He was here. He was real. In all their years, she had never touched him so. She never could have imagined the ecstasy of such a small act. Her fingers molded to the hard muscle of his chest. His firm, loving hand cupped her check. His touch was the world to her. He wanted her.

  Jack slid his palm from her cheek to the bare skin of her neck. His arm wound around her waist. His grip was tight—secure. He held her against his body, closer and more intimate than any waltz they had ever danced. She never wanted him to let go. She let out a surprised gasp, but she did not draw away. Not at all. She glided her hand up his arm, forming to the dips and valleys beneath and greedily exploring the contour of his muscles. She crossed over his broad shoulder and
gripped his back. Elsie held him tightly, pulling him to her as he pulled her. He wanted her. The palm she laid on his chest smoothed a path up to his neck, and her fingers played over his naked skin. That very thing she wanted more of—the contact of his skin—it was hers to seize.

  Jack groaned under her touch. The vocalization of his desire reverberated through her body and set her aflame. She felt a stirring between her legs. A physical stirring which did not come from her body but from his. Not shame, but pride flowed through her. Her body beckoned his. Jack’s hand explored the silken fabric over her back, and the feeling of his skin so close, separated only by a layer of cloth, was torturous ecstasy. She desired the caress of his hand on the skin beneath. This moment. This scorching awareness of what it was for a woman to be with a man. The evocative stirrings awakening in her body—she was coming alive from a dream. Her heart fluttered. She willingly gave herself to him.

  Jack drew his lips from hers. She was mesmerized by the desire stemming from him. She was not shocked or ashamed. She licked her lips, and she could feel Jack’s unmentionable member twitch and swell. His fingertips grazed from the back of her neck around to her front and down to the neckline of her sleeping gown. The light fabric hung from the peaks of her youthful breasts, her stiff nipples outlined even in the dim light. Gently, slowly, he traced a finger down the side of her breast. Elsie’s mouth opened, and she drew in pained breaths. How could such pleasure include such torture? She tightened the grip she held on his back, her fingers digging in and anchoring her to his body. He drew a line over her cloth covered areola, and she voiced a shattered moan. She didn’t take her eyes off his intoxicating rapture. She silently pleaded with him, bowing her breast into his touch. Jack brushed a feather light touch over her nipple, and she moaned again, leaning her hips closer, not backing away when his swelling shaft pressed against her thigh.

  His desire was palpable. He pressed her body into his — all of him. His erection dug between her legs, and her heart sang a hallelujah when their hips responded to one another. Just the slightest of motions, a gliding of her mound over his hardness. The rhythm of a man and a woman. He wanted her. She responded to him, digging her nails into the flesh on his chest. He fingered the laces tying her gown and let them loose. Her the silken garment sagged over her shoulders but did not fall.

  Elsie hesitated. She wanted him to see. Her nakedness was upon her. The moment was here. Jack pulled back and looked into her eyes; he questioned her from under a thick veil of temptation. He slid the gown from her shoulder, exposing her skin beneath. Her eyes widened. Jack had sheltered her well. No man had ever touched her skin, not there, not like this, not ever. Goosebumps rose on her flesh as he trailed his fingers from her neck down to the forbidden skin. Heat spiraled from her neck down between her legs.

  Jack dove back in, capturing her with his mouth. He kissed her passionately, a fever overtaking them both. Her skin burned under his palm. Jack guided his reach below the silk. The rough texture of his masculine skin against her delicate smoothness was inebriating. The calluses, the strength, they fueled her desire — her desire for his hands to caress every inch of her. Elsie’s gown slipped from her shoulders, resting in loose folds over the swell of her breasts. He pushed further, exploring the heat overtaking her body. A red flush of youthful lust colored her porcelain skin. The tender tissue of her breast pressed against the firmness of his chest. His thumb slipped under the sagging neck of her gown. She didn’t push him away; she did not protest. Down. His hand slid down to where she heaved with labored breaths. Down.

  She kissed him greedily, infused with thirst. Her thigh surged forward, her sex colliding with his erection. They both broke and the close air of the hall was heated with their passion. She could see it in his eyes. He was letting go. He was letting go of his inhibitions. They were free. Jack fixed his gaze on her as he cupped a naked breast. His thumb flickered over her nipple. The motion cascaded ripples of pleasure to her sex.

  Elsie arched her back, offering him more, pleading with him to take her further. She nodded her consent. “Yes.”

  Her hips ground into the hardness between his legs. He dropped and, in one swift move, jerked her body against his and lifted her to his hips. Elsie instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, her gown riding up and exposing her cream white thighs. Listing forward, Jack trapped her between his body and the door jam. Still, she did not protest. Why would she? She wanted everything he offered. She wanted to give him all. She tilted her hips, rubbing the flower of her sex against his throbbing shaft. The friction of her body against his — his member separated from her folds only by layers of cloth — the temptation was glorious. Delicious. Jack thrust against her, rocking his rod against her clitoris. Elsie’s head fell back against the wall and she moaned the sweetest sound of satisfaction.

  Jack held her tight and kissed her wildly. His strong arms held her to his chest as he stumbled toward her bed. Elsie's fingers swept through his hair, drinking in the unrestrained passion. Her thighs clenched around his waist. He collided with the edge of the mattress and, upending, they tumbled on top of the covers. Her back hit the bed, and she bounced. She positioned herself, her legs open to take him in. Jack, kneeling now between her legs, ripped at his clothing. His shirt tore from his chest, and he lifted his undershirt over his head in one swift motion. He towered over her, his torso naked. Elsie watched in awe. A man’s body was beautiful. His rounded shoulders, his firm chest, his tight, lean core. He placed a hand on either side of her body, trapping her beneath him. Jack paused, caution creeping over his features. Elsie's breath hitched. Jack's strength had always been sweetened by his kindness. Even in his passion, she was his first thought. He lifted her and placed her head on the pillows, brushing her disheveled hair from her eyes.

  Elsie slowly lifted trembling fingers to his chest. She watched her own hands as she explored his bare chest. Her fingers traced the firm, square muscles, outlining the hard lines years of training had etched there. She wandered down his tight abdomen, her teeth grazing over her bottom lip the closer she came to the V which disappeared into his trousers. His skin was hot and surprisingly soft. His smile twitched as she brushed over the tiny, blonde hairs on his stomach. He was ticklish. Her Jack was ticklish. Exhilaration flowed through her. The things she was only beginning to know about this man. She grazed a light touch over the sensitive line of muscle leading to his engorged member, and he let out a tortured groan. She looked up at him then, a naughty glint flickered in her eyes as she left his waist and traveled the hard expanse of his back and up to his rounded shoulders.

  Her cautious, virginal exploration of his body only inflamed her desire. She was in a fog, her body taking over. She could lay there with him and stroke his velvety skin through the long hours of the night—explore the lines, the pits, find which stroke aroused him and which made him squirm. His excitement—that did not need exploration to find. His manhood pressed against his trousers. Jack reached between their bodies and released himself from his cage. Elsie paused. Jack leaned down and kissed her gently. She mewled into him, and she reached her hands around his back, removing the space between their bodies and pulling him down on top of her. His chest pressed on her naked breasts. Warmth. Heat. Inside and out. She couldn't draw him near enough. There was a yearning inside of her kindled only brighter the more she took. Jack rested his erection between her legs, slowly pulsing his member against her folds. She spread her thighs for him. His kisses deepened. Elsie slipped her thighs around his hips, hugging him, allowing him to nestle into her.

  Jack left her mouth for her breast. His lips closed around her nipple. A bolt of lightning shot through her, from her breast to between her legs. She bowed to him, hissing out her pleasure. Her eyes rolled back, and she felt her face twist in a grimace of satisfaction. Her breasts heaved, sucking in the air she so desperately needed. She dug her nails into his back and tightened the grip her thighs held on his hips. His lips sucked and kissed her nipple. His strong hand wandere
d down her body, caressing her silken sleeping gown. His palm descended down her side, trailing fire with every inch. He rounded her hip. Elsie’s breath came in short gasps as he lifted the gown over her thighs. He didn’t stop until the hem was past her belly and there was nothing between her sex and his member.

  Jack paused in his lovemaking. His gaze traveled down her body to the place she was open to him — her legs, her lower lips. The tip of his shaft ground between the lips of her labia, stroking against the sensitive nub sheltered there. Elsie followed his gaze and was captivated as his thrusts and her hips reacted to one another. His muscle roiled over sinew and bone. Her body rocked smoothly to his motions. His member parted her folds and met the slick wetness of her arousal. Her lover examined deep into her eyes to gauge her reaction. His finger gently rolled her nipple, and his hips moved to the sweet rhythm they had established. There was longing in his eyes. There was intimacy in what she knew he asked. Elsie’s lips opened and trembled. Her chest heaved with deep breaths.

  He was waiting for her, caressing and loving her body. She responded to his unspoken question with barely a whisper. “Please.”

  “Please?” He was still questioning, unsure the direction of her desire. Please stop? No. Never.