Portrait of My Heart (27 page)
That was when Jeremy finally lost his patience.
“You see,” he chided, as she twisted and thrashed in his arms, trying to break his iron-hard grip around her wrists. “I told you you were going to hurt yourself. And look what happened.”
“Let … go … of … me!” Maggie snarled.
“Not until you’ve calmed down,” Jeremy informed her. “You’re a menace to your own—Ah!” This last was uttered as a set of small, but very sharp, teeth sank into the fingers he’d wrapped round Maggie’s wrists. A quick glance showed him that while she hadn’t drawn any blood, it was not for lack of trying. Jeremy stared down at her, a stunned expression on his face.
“Why, you little—”
Maggie didn’t hear what he ended up calling her after
little
, because on the second syllable of that word, his shoulder suddenly heaved into her abdomen, sending her corset stays prodding painfully into her ribs, and consequently knocking the breath out of her. A second later, her feet were in the air, and her head was dangling down Jeremy’s broad back. All the blood in her body immediately began rushing down toward the roots of her hair.
little
, because on the second syllable of that word, his shoulder suddenly heaved into her abdomen, sending her corset stays prodding painfully into her ribs, and consequently knocking the breath out of her. A second later, her feet were in the air, and her head was dangling down Jeremy’s broad back. All the blood in her body immediately began rushing down toward the roots of her hair.
“What,” Maggie gasped, when she could summon up enough breath to speak, “do you think you’re doing?”
“Something I’ve been wanting to do all day,” Jeremy growled, wrapping one arm loosely around her rear end, while with his free hand he seized one of her flailing ankles, to keep her from kicking him in the face as he strode forward.
“Put me down, you barbarian,” Maggie sputtered. All she could see, besides the seat of Jeremy’s trousers, was the floor moving rapidly above her head. She was dizzy enough that she’d lost all sense of direction, and could not imagine where
Jeremy was headed. Feeling suddenly sure that he was going to take her out into the hallway, or even possibly parade her up and down Park Lane, she began to struggle even more desperately. “Put me—”
Jeremy was headed. Feeling suddenly sure that he was going to take her out into the hallway, or even possibly parade her up and down Park Lane, she began to struggle even more desperately. “Put me—”
“Gladly.”
As if she were no heavier than a sack of flour, he flung her from his shoulder. Maggie let out a terrified shriek as the room spun wildly about her, then abruptly quieted when her back sank into the soft mattress of her own bed. Struggling up to her elbows, conscious of her throbbing knuckles, toes, and now, ribs, Maggie swept some of her tangled hair from her face and eyed him where he stood glaring down at her from the side of the bed.
“Are you going to behave rationally now?” he inquired politely, though there was nothing polite in the way his silver eyes, already flashing with ire, swept her body, laid out before him like a trussed ham.
Maggie looked at him, his own dark hair mussed from where she’d grabbed at it, his thickly haired chest rising and falling as rapidly as her own. As sullenly as she’d used to when they’d been children, and Jeremy, always the elder, the self-declared “more mature” of the pair, had posed the selfsame question, Maggie snapped, “No!”
The silver eyes flared. “No?” His lips curled upward with delight, and Maggie felt her heart lurch. “You can’t imagine how happy I am to hear you say that.”
Considering how loudly Maggie screeched when Jeremy launched himself at her, it was probably a good thing that he had drugged her maid. Maggie didn’t realize, of course, that he intended to brace his fall with his hands. All she knew was that suddenly, two hundred and some pounds of unadulterated male was flying toward her. She was convinced that he was trying to kill her, and attempted to protect her head with her hands, just in case.
But killing Maggie wasn’t what Jeremy had had in mind at all. Far from it, as a matter of fact.
He still managed to pin her to the bed, though most of his body weight was supported by his arms; he had thrust a hand out on either side of her. Maggie didn’t dare peek out from between her fingers until nearly a minute had passed, and the bed had stopped bouncing. Risking a brief, upward glance, she saw that Jeremy was smiling down at her devilishly.
Her heart hammering against her corset stays, Maggie said, “All right, you’ve made your point. Now get out.”
“Actually,” Jeremy said, his grin widening, “I haven’t even
begun
to make my point … .”
begun
to make my point … .”
And then she felt one of his thighs, which had settled between hers, press against the gusset of her pantaloons. Startled, Maggie started to protest, but Jeremy lowered himself to his elbows, and silenced her with his lips.
Oh, no,
she groaned to herself, her heart drumming erratically inside her chest.
Not again.
she groaned to herself, her heart drumming erratically inside her chest.
Not again.
But it was happening again, and just like before, she felt powerless to stop it—didn’t
want
to stop it. Once again, he was assailing all of her senses, until it seemed as if the only thing that existed in her world was Jeremy. Not just her sense of sight—though her entire field of vision was filled with him, the bronzed planes of his face, the cleft in his chin, the sharp curve of his Adam’s apple. Not just her sense of touch, either—though she was more than a little conscious of the way his day’s growth of beard felt against the soft skin of her face, and of the heat that seemed to radiate from his open shirtfront as he kept himself suspended just inches from her.
want
to stop it. Once again, he was assailing all of her senses, until it seemed as if the only thing that existed in her world was Jeremy. Not just her sense of sight—though her entire field of vision was filled with him, the bronzed planes of his face, the cleft in his chin, the sharp curve of his Adam’s apple. Not just her sense of touch, either—though she was more than a little conscious of the way his day’s growth of beard felt against the soft skin of her face, and of the heat that seemed to radiate from his open shirtfront as he kept himself suspended just inches from her.
No, it was her other senses, the ones of which she was hardly aware until he walked into a room, that seemed to become hypersensitive to his presence. His uneven breathing sounded harsh to her ears, but thrilling, too, when she realized that
she
was the reason for that unsteadiness. What was it about the guttural—but appreciative—noises that Jeremy made when he was kissing her that made her feel so weak and melting? It was as if the very idea that he could not control these noises—as if he himself was out of control—appealed to her on some sort of animal level.
she
was the reason for that unsteadiness. What was it about the guttural—but appreciative—noises that Jeremy made when he was kissing her that made her feel so weak and melting? It was as if the very idea that he could not control these noises—as if he himself was out of control—appealed to her on some sort of animal level.
But that wasn’t the only thing animalistic about their attraction to one another. Were she blindfolded and put in a room with a hundred men, Maggie would have been able to pick Jeremy out by his scent alone, it was that distinctive to her. Distinctive … and arousing. Maggie’s nipples never failed to harden from the scent of him alone, though what could be so erotic about the mingled odors of soap, whisky, tobacco, and, very faintly, horse, she was certainly at a loss to explain. Still, whenever his peculiarly masculine scent filled her nostrils, she was nearly overwhelmed by a feeling of contentment, as if …
As if she were smelling home.
He even
tasted
like something from her past, something good, something she’d had for dessert once and had liked immensely. Something not quite sweet, but not at all sour. Bitter … but not unpleasant. Not unpleasant at all … .
tasted
like something from her past, something good, something she’d had for dessert once and had liked immensely. Something not quite sweet, but not at all sour. Bitter … but not unpleasant. Not unpleasant at all … .
Why,
why
did it have to be this way?
Why
did it have to be so hard to keep herself from loving him? Why couldn’t he have smelled of garlic, as Augustin inevitably did, thanks to his Parisian cook? Why did he have to taste so good, to
sound
so good? Why was he so appealing to her?
why
did it have to be this way?
Why
did it have to be so hard to keep herself from loving him? Why couldn’t he have smelled of garlic, as Augustin inevitably did, thanks to his Parisian cook? Why did he have to taste so good, to
sound
so good? Why was he so appealing to her?
Why hadn’t she thought to lock her bedroom door the minute she’d come home?
Then his lips moved to her neck, and Maggie was incapable of thinking anymore. Instead, she arched her throat, which thrust her breasts, her nipples hard as pebbles in the cups of her camisole, against Jeremy’s furred chest, eliciting a groan from him. A second later, his hands were inside those lace cups, lifting her breasts and bringing them—first one, and then the other—to his lips. Now the razor stubble around his mouth was grazing her sensitive aureoles as he suckled her, and Maggie sunk her fingers into his broad shoulders in reaction, a soft moan escaping her own lips.
This only seemed to encourage him, however, to acts of an even more intimate nature. Before Maggie knew what he was about, Jeremy was untying the bow that held her pantaloons in place and stealthily lowering her drawers over her hips. It was only then that Maggie realized that the cotton had become drenched with her own desire for him. Lord, and she’d been trying so hard to make him think she didn’t care for him a bit! Tearing her hands from his shoulders, she tried to fling them protectively over what he had revealed to the lamplight, but he only chuckled softly at her sudden modesty.
And then he plucked her fingers aside, and inserted his own into the moist down, his eyes hooded in the half-light, the lids appearing to be drooping a little drowsily.
But Jeremy was far from feeling drowsy. He was watching Maggie’s reactions to his touch intently, glorying in every undulation of her hips, every sigh that escaped her. With her waist so tightly corseted, her breath was coming in shorter and shorter bursts, but he could not bring himself to undo the laces, since she looked so incredibly feminine, with her heavy breasts and creamy hips bared, and that narrow band of pink satin cinching her middle, sloping to an emphatic
V just below her navel, as if the garment were pointing to that part of Maggie which already drew his gaze so hypnotically.
V just below her navel, as if the garment were pointing to that part of Maggie which already drew his gaze so hypnotically.
It wasn’t just his gaze that black triangle drew, either. His lips had already begun burning a trail along the inside of one shapely thigh. Maggie, her head thrown back and her eyes closed, her long hair streaming out across the white pillows, very kindly accommodated him by parting her legs just a little farther … .
And Jeremy bent, his unruly hair falling forward to brush against her thighs, to explore that damp tangle of curls, not with his fingers this time, but with his lips and tongue.
Maggie nearly bucked him off the bed. Instinctively, she clamped her thighs shut, effectively trapping Jeremy in a grip that, while highly erotic, was somewhat restrictive.
“What …” she gasped astonishedly, “are you doing?”
His voice sounding slightly strangled, Jeremy replied, “If you’d let go of my head, I’d show you.”
“But it isn’t … you mustn’t … .” Even as she spoke, however, Maggie was relaxing, sinking back against the pillows. Jeremy used the opportunity to slip his hands between her thighs and pry them gently apart.
“Jeremy, it isn’t
right … .”
right … .”
But the words ended on a sigh of pure bliss as Jeremy’s tongue delved into her velvet furrow. Now
this
was something Maggie had certainly never heard any of the girls back at Madame Bonheur’s discuss … but it was the most delightful sensation she’d ever experienced—well, second to actually having Jeremy inside of her, anyway. Reaching down, she sank her fingers into Jeremy’s thick hair, guiding his head as he laved her, marveling at the ripples of pleasure he was evoking within her.
this
was something Maggie had certainly never heard any of the girls back at Madame Bonheur’s discuss … but it was the most delightful sensation she’d ever experienced—well, second to actually having Jeremy inside of her, anyway. Reaching down, she sank her fingers into Jeremy’s thick hair, guiding his head as he laved her, marveling at the ripples of pleasure he was evoking within her.
And then, sooner than she would have thought possible, those ripples turned to waves. Instead of coursing gently over her, they began to slam into her, each one harder than the last. And yet none of them managed to put out the flame that was licking inside her, growing steadily hotter as he continued his ruthless assault. Her breathing, which had been uneven, turned into short, erratic gasps. The fingers in his hair
fisted, as if she were clutching the reins to a fractious horse.
fisted, as if she were clutching the reins to a fractious horse.
Then, as he cupped her buttocks in his hands to bring her closer to his mouth, she bucked again … but this time with joy. Because suddenly, it seemed to Maggie as if she’d finally been swept up by one of those waves … higher and higher, until this time, it crested with her upon it. It doused the flame, drenching it completely. She cried out hoarsely at the immense satisfaction of it, her limbs trembling all over with the intensity of the experience, as if she really
had
been plunged into an icy sea of turquoise and foam. And when it was all over, she certainly felt as depleted and drowsy as she’d used to as a child, climbing out of the pond on the grounds of Rawlings Manor on a hot summer day, dripping wet … .
had
been plunged into an icy sea of turquoise and foam. And when it was all over, she certainly felt as depleted and drowsy as she’d used to as a child, climbing out of the pond on the grounds of Rawlings Manor on a hot summer day, dripping wet … .
But she was only allowed to luxuriate in her lethargy for a second or two, however, before Jeremy’s face reappeared in her line of vision. He wore an expression she recognized, one of extreme self-satisfaction, though at the same time, there was a glimmer of something else in his gray eyes. Maggie didn’t recognize what it was until he’d reared up onto his knees. Then, his gaze hard upon her, his fingers began to work the buttons to his trousers. When his erection sprang free of the clinging fabric, Maggie’s own eyes widened. Why, of course. That undefinable something in his face was
need.
need.
Need for
her.
her.
Which was why Maggie didn’t question it when he reached over her head and grabbed one of the down-filled pillows, then tucked it, determinedly, under her hips. She didn’t say a word when, without even bothering to take off his shirt, having shoved his trousers down only far enough for them to be out of his way, Jeremy positioned himself between her legs, his arms braced on either side of her. She gave the engorged organ hovering just inches from her a single, trepidatious look—it still seemed technically impossible to her that something so large could fit into a space so small, even though she’d witnessed the marvel for herself more than once in the past twenty-four hours—then lifted her gaze to meet Jeremy’s … .
And quickly realized, as he plunged into her, what the pillow was for: It lifted and tilted her hips to just such an angle that he could practically embed himself within her. It almost seemed as if he managed to touch the back of her spine with the tip of his penis, a not unpleasurable sensation. But that wasn’t all the pillow did. It drove the folds of skin just below her pubic bone into his abdomen, working as effectively as his tongue had at stimulating what was hidden there. Suddenly, the satiated feeling left her, and she found herself being swept into yet another glittering eddy of desire … only this time, Jeremy was there with her, riding the same incredible waves.
How long it was before the crystalline sea tossed them both back to shore, Maggie wasn’t sure. Time seemed to stand still … and then, as she fought to catch her breath, wasted from yet another bone-wracking orgasm, Jeremy let out a thunderous yell. Startled, Maggie glanced up at his face, and saw that it was contorted with something very much like pain … then, a second later, the anguished expression turned to one of beatific contentment. Jeremy collapsed unceremoniously on top of her, his bare chest slick against hers, his breath hot in her ear.
“Now,” he whispered, in a voice that was so full of lethargy, it was almost a purr, “d’you see why I drugged your maid?”
“I’m beginning”—though Maggie’s words were pert, her tone matched his in laziness “—to get the idea.”
“Beginning
to get it?” Jeremy sighed. “I can see it’s going to be a long night … .”
to get it?” Jeremy sighed. “I can see it’s going to be a long night … .”
Other books
The Donor (The Full Novella) by Nikki Rae
Jubilee Trail by Gwen Bristow
Addicted (Club Destiny #3) by Nicole Edwards
Full Circle by Jennifer Simpkins, Peri Elizabeth Scott
Night World 1 by L.J. Smith
Nothing Like You by Lauren Strasnick
War From the Ground Up by Simpson, Emile
Conquest by Stewart Binns
Cold Shot by Mark Henshaw
Sneaking a Peek by Eden Summers