Dream Lover Part 19

Why did you make it so easy for me?

He cuddled her until she cried herself out. When her sobs subsided and she lay with her cheek pressed against his heart with his heat and strength seeping into her body, Emerald had never felt so safe and secure. Lying in the same bed together was like being in their own private, warm coc.o.o.n. This was what she wanted for the rest of her life.

She lifted her face so she could gaze up at him. His dark beauty was irresistible and she reached out a fingertip to trace the black eyebrow, the slanting cheekbone, and the dark stubble along the square jaw. It gave her such pleasure, she suddenly wanted to explore all of him.

His body was as yet unknown to her and she wanted to learn the feel of every hard, sculpted muscle. She wanted to look at him, to smell him, to taste him. She realized it might take her years to find out what was in his mind or even his heart, because he was not ready to share his inner self with anyone. But he was now willing to share his body with her, secrets and all. And for Emerald it was enough.

If she loved him without reserve, perhaps his inner wounds would heal so he would trust her enough to share his essence with her. His eyes were fathomless as she gazed up into them, but slowly his hands came up to cup her face, then his lips traced every feature from temple to chin. He was leading the way.

She duplicated his caresses, cupping his face, then setting her lips to cherish the planes and hollows of his dark beauty. Before she was done, he moved to her throat and shoulders, feathering kisses, nibbling her silky flesh, whispering love words. She followed his lead, running her lips down the powerful column of his throat, rubbing her cheek along his collarbone, caressing the sinews of his wide shoulders.

Sean's hands stroked down her body, taking the white silk with them. The feel of naked skin against bare flesh was so exciting, she wanted to scream. Yet his first caress was not on an intimate spot. Instead, he opened her hand and dropped a kiss inside her palm, then his lips traced the tiny blue veins at her wrist. He slid the tip of his tongue along her inner arm to her elbow, and she felt a thrill run up inside her armpit.

By exploring her so slowly and sensually he was arousing and heightening all her senses. Emerald wanted to do the same for Sean. She came up over him and lifted his arms above his head. Then she began her love play in the sensitive hollows, nuzzling, whispering, inhaling the heady male scent of him. She trailed kisses up his raised arms until her mouth could reach no higher, then she moved her body up on his, so that she could kiss his fingers and then his thumbs.

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s brushed his face, filling his nostrils with her woman's scent. He closed his eyes, inhaling, savoring her awakening pa.s.sion. Then without warning she took his injured thumb into her mouth and suckled softly, sensually, proving to him that even the scars on his body aroused her.

Sean, suddenly seized with a savage frenzy of l.u.s.t, wanted to ravish her. He felt like a dark raptor, needing to seize his prey and devour it. He managed to crush down his need for depravity. There would be time for animal ferocity later. This first time Emerald must enjoy every moment.

To compensate for his rough elemental s.e.xual cravings, he brought his hands to her waist and lifted her until his lips brushed against her mons, then his mouth took possession of her. Emerald cried our. When he thrust inside her with his hot tongue, it was as if she had Keen pierced by lightning!

In her wildest dreams she never could have imagined a man doing such a thing, yet she loved it so much, she opened wide to him, unfurling her petals like a flower in the hot sun. She writhed and arched with so much pleasure, Sean decided to draw it out, curling his tongue to flick her tiny bud between hot, wet thrusts.

When at last he tasted her cream, his mouth became unquenchable and her cries could be heard in the highest tower of Castle Lies.

The bedclothes were long gone from their s.e.xual exertions and they hungrily devoured each other with their eyes. "If only I could do that for you," Emerald gasped.

"What?" he asked huskily.

"Make love to you with my mouth."

"Little innocent," he murmured.

"What?" She reached out to touch his engorged s.e.x. Sean almost came out of his skin. "Oh! It is so thick and hard, I had no idea it was so sensitive. Do you think my lips and tongue could give you pleasure?"

"Perhaps a little," he said wryly.

Her lips touched him lightly at first, uncertain of what to expect or what his reaction would be. Sean's response was so volatile, clearly showing her how much gratification he received from her ministrations, she became bolder. Wildly curious about the shape, color, texture, and taste of him, she lost her apprehension about his size. In fact, she was thrilled when she increased his length and thickness by teasing him until he became completely engorged.

"That's enough, Beauty," he gasped, threading his fingers into her hair and gently pulling her from him before he spilled. She was flushed with the knowledge of her erotic power over him, and Sean had never seen a woman more beautiful in her pa.s.sion. He knew this was the moment he had been waiting for. Now in her pride and pa.s.sion he would make her wholly, gloriously his.

He moved above her and opened her silken thighs wide. He positioned the throbbing head of his shaft against her tiny bud and slowly, firmly impaled her with one long thrust. Her sheath was so hot she scalded him, and he cried out in his pa.s.sion. When he was sheathed to the hilt, he whispered all the things he would do to her, how it would make her feel and how exquisite it felt to be deep inside her at last.

Emerald was in a fever of need as she felt him fill her with his thick manroot.

She wanted to yield all to his demanding body and wrapped her legs high about his back. When he starred to thrust with savage strokes, the hot sliding friction aroused her to a frenzy. She-loved the weight of his body on hers, adored the throbbing, pulsating fullness deep inside her, reveled in the exciting male scent of his skin, as he unleashed the fierce desire that had been riding him for so long.

She was half mad with pa.s.sion, crying and biting his shoulders with sharp little teeth. She felt him take her higher and higher, as if climbing to the peak of a towering precipice. She clung there for heart-stopping moments, then flung herself with him over the edge in an ecstasy of abandon. As he erupted into her, she cried out with the pure sensual pleasure his demanding body brought her.

Emerald held him there, not wanting him to withdraw from her. She stroked his back endlessly from shoulders to b.u.t.tocks. She kissed him fiercely, in a fever to lavish him with adoration. He had made her feel luxuriant, equally sharing and enjoying the joining of their bodies, and it gave her such heady delight, she felt she could never have enough of him.

Then suddenly her fingertips felt the ridges on his back and she became aware of the scars that had been inflicted upon his body. Emerald was consumed by a raging fury. It mattered little to her that his dark beauty was marred, but when she imagined how powerless he had been and how much self-control he had needed to survive, it almost broke her heart. She wanted to kill her father, kill Jack Raymond, kill anyone at all who had given him pain.

As heat leapt between them, Sean sensed her anger. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him so that she lay cushioned on top of him. He knew of only one way to a.s.suage her fury and set about rekindling her pa.s.sion. He threaded his fingers into her hair and brought her lips down to his. He explored her mouth so intimately, she soon lost her ability to think clearly. His tongue thrust with such drugging strokes, while his hands made such possessive demands, that she gave herself up to his dominant insistence.

Before dawn, Sean made her replete. A delicious la.s.situde enveloped her, so that even her eyelashes felt too heavy to lift. She gathered her strength and stirred in his arms. "I must go back to my own room before the servants find me here."

His arm tightened around her like a steel band. "There will be no furtive sneaking about between bedchambers. I intend to carry you to bed every night and awaken you with kisses each morning. Like this." His lips brushed her brow, moved lightly over her temples, then gently kissed each eyelid. By the time his mouth covered hers, she was ready with an uninhibited welcome.

She was soft with surfeit, warm and pliant and generous enough to give him anything he desired, anytime. Sean knew this was the way he wanted her; this was the way he was going to keep her. He slipped from the bed and tucked the covers about her. "We are going riding across this county and the next, this morning."

When Emerald groaned, Sean laughed at her. "Not you, Beauty. I'll tell Johnny you rode all night." He leered at her.

"Sean!"

"Mmm, does that blush cover your lovely t.i.tties?" He pulled down the sheet and dropped a kiss upon each breast. Then he cupped them possessively as his playful look became intense. "I've wanted you since you were sixteen . . . you were well worth the wait, Beauty. Rest today so we can make the night explode."

At his words Emerald felt every naked inch of her skin shiver with gooseflesh, yet at the same time her insides were on fire. How could she wait until night?

Sean purposely chose two of the finest Thoroughbreds at Grey-stones for their long ride. The turf was luxuriously thick on the great plain, springing back into place as their horses' hooves thundered over it. Sean O'Toole knew Johnny Montague was in his element by the rapturous look upon his face and the endless questions he asked about Ireland's superb Thoroughbreds. He listened avidly as Sean told him the rich rolling meadows of Meath bred the finest horses and Kildare County was the center of Irish horse racing.

They spent the afternoon at Maynooth where Sean arranged for the transfer of his grandfather's books to his own library. While he was busy, Sean asked Nan FitzGerald to amuse their visitor. For a moment Johnny felt shy. In the five years since he had met Nan, she had changed from a pretty girl into a beautiful woman.

But she hadn't changed on the inside. She was still the sweetest female he had ever encountered.

She put him at ease immediately, even though her own heart was dancing a jig at the sight of the aristocratic young Englishman. To entertain him, and to keep him from the other females of Maynooth, Nan took him up to the castle turrets.

"I'm flattered you remember me."

"Oh, Johnny, I could never forget you; I think of you so often."

"You're not married or spoken for?" he asked eagerly.

Nan quickly shook her head, hoping the news would spur him on, but Johnny flushed at his own boldness and fell silent. Nan decided she couldn't wait another five years to advance their relationship. Like many a young woman before her, she grasped her courage in both hands and plunged in. "Johnny, do you believe in love at first sight?"

"I do," he replied seriously. "That's exactly what happened between my sister Emerald and Sean."

"Is it true that he stole her and seduced her?" Nan asked breathlessly, momentarily diverted from her objective.

"It is, and I know it sounds a wicked thing for him to do, but my sister is so deeply in love, she absolutely glows."

"How romantic . . . now that I've seen you again, I realize I, too, am in love,"

Nan said in a rush. As she swayed toward him, Johnny's natural instincts took over.

He clasped her hands and drew her close, then, tentatively, he brushed his lips against hers. They kissed, then clung, then kissed again, both carried beyond words by the intensity of their feelings.

When Sean cleared his throat behind them, they sprang apart guiltily.

Pretending to be unaware of their newfound intimacy, Sean asked for the pleasure of Nan FitzGerald's company for the rest of the afternoon. They showed Johnny Maynooth's vast stables and pasture-land as well as her numerous tenant horse farms for breeding stock. Sean watched his look of longing grow more covetous by the minute.

When Johnny sighed heavily and murmured, "How I wish I'd been born here,"

Sean knew he had accomplished his purpose. Parading horses as well as the captivating Nan before him was a subtle form of torture.

On the way back to Greystones as Johnny reflected on what he was leaving behind, Sean turned up the torment by reminding him of what lay ahead. "I'll take you and your crew back to London aboard the Half Moon. I know you're anxious to return home; will tomorrow be soon enough?"

"You're a cruel sod," Johnny accused wryly.

"Merciless," Sean agreed with mocking silver eyes.

Johnny decided it was a d.a.m.n good thing Shamus O'Toole had fired the shot.

The English crew was convinced he'd missed death by inches. The FitzGeralds had removed all firearms and ammunition from the Swallow, giving the English sailors the idea that they were prisoners. Johnny hadn't disabused them of the notion they could be murdered in their bunks at the whim of Sean O'Toole, partly because it was true and partly because it would serve his own purpose when the men were questioned by William Montague.

"In the next weeks, as the Montague Line becomes depleted of its ships, you must advise your father to buy more. I'll provide the financing, of course. Do you foresee any problems with such a plan?"

"I'm a p.i.s.s-poor sailor, but on dry land my forte is the shipping business. The tedious paperwork is my sole domain. Father relies on me completely." John thought for a minute, then pa.s.sed along a most useful piece of information. "When it comes to insuring cargoes, I play the odds. At any one time at least two out of ten carry no insurance. It saves a lot of money, so it's pretty standard procedure among the mer- chant lines."

Sean's look was bland. "I've recently become a shareholder of Lloyd's of London. I can tell you which Montague vessels are insured, or more to the point, which vessels are not insured."

"Do you leave anything to chance?"

"Very little, Johnny. I had five long years to lay my plans, and since Fate dropped a fortune into my hands when I inherited the earldom, I now have the means to carry out those plans."

Johnny Montague knew he shouldn't have been surprised. Why was it the English always underestimated the Irish? His thoughts flew to Emerald. He hoped she wouldn't make that mistake. For her own sake he hoped she was a match for Sean O'Toole.

Emerald couldn't stop singing. Through her eyes the world seemed different today. Everything and everyone were infinitely more beautiful. The sheen on the rosewood bedroom suite was dazzling, the sunshine on the windowpane turned it to pure gold. When Kate changed the bedsheets they seemed whiter and more crisp, her breakfast tasted like ambrosia, and even the water in the bathtub felt doubly delicious upon her skin.

She filled the house with flowers. Their scent and their colors enchanted her.

Her heart was brimful of joy and she wanted everyone to share it with her. In the afternoon she decided to visit Sean's father in the gatehouse. Her feeling of outrage toward him had melted away, leaving only compa.s.sion in its wake.

She took an armful of blue and yellow lupines with her, thrusting them at an astonished Mr. Burke. She announced blithely, "It's Emerald FitzGerald, I've come to visit."

Paddy Burke knew by the twinkle in Shamus's eye that he was pleased to have female company.

As she chattered away, she tidied up the tower room, then perched on a stool beside Shamus and accepted his offer of a little French brandy. Her heart overflowed with pity for this man. Because of the Montagues his family had been torn asunder. His beloved wife, Kathleen, must have died of a broken heart when she learned both of her sons were lost to her.

Emerald skillfully guided the conversation so that Shamus could reminisce about the happy times. He was a man who loved to talk, especially if he had a beautiful and attentive audience.

When she departed, both men were sorry to see her leave. "Come back again; you brought the sunshine with you." Shamus beamed.

"I shall, I shall," she promised happily.

Emerald decided to dress for dinner. Of course, it wasn't dinner she dressed for, it was Sean FitzGerald O'Toole. She chose the peac.o.c.k silk, then wound a wreath of cream rosebuds into her hair.

From her tall bedchamber windows she spotted the two riders while they were still a mile away. She imagined Sean was already scanning Greystones for a glimpse of her. She picked up her skirts and ran to meet him.

The moment he saw her, he was off the horse in a flash. He was every bit as eager as she for their reunion. He opened his arms so she could run into them. Then he picked her up and swung her around. He bit clown on her earlobe and said low, "Stab me, is all this elegance just for me?"

She lifted her face to his and murmured, "Are you not the fastidious Earl of Kildare?"

"I am, madam." His swift, pa.s.sionate kiss took her breath away. "You smell of roses and promises. I shouldn't even touch you until I get the stink of the stables off me."

She sniffed his male scent and rolled her eyes with appreciation. "Horse, mingled with the smell of leather, is an aphrodisiac to me."

"If I thought that was true, I'd forgo the bath and dinner and carry you straight to bed."

When Johnny emerged from the stables, he hung back to give them a private moment together.

Emerald pretended she had only just noticed him. "Oh, dear, I forgot we had company. I suppose we'll have to suffer through dinner after all. Never mind, I had Mary Malone prepare some of your favorite dishes."

Tonight in the dining room it was Johnny who felt left out of things. Though they politely included him in the conversation, Emerald and Sean had eyes only for each other. When dessert was served, Johnny saw that they were actually holding hands beneath the table. If she can tame the savage beast that lurks inside Sean O'Toole, perhaps she is a match for him, Johnny mused. Finally, he could bear the longing in their eyes no more and bade them good-night.

Sean set Emerald's feet to the thick-piled carpet, locked their chamber door, and stripped off his leather gloves.

"Don't stop therea"let me see all of your secrets," she invited as her fingers began to unfasten the b.u.t.tons on the bodice of her peac.o.c.k silk.

"Don't undress. I want the pleasure of disrobing you."

She dropped her hands and watched him hungrily as he made short work of removing his garments. "Do you always get what you want?" she teased.

"With a little Irish charm and a bit of friendly persuasion." His body was all sinew and muscle; his swarthy skin stretched taut over the spare flesh. Jet-black hair curled on his chest, narrowed to a thin line across his Hat belly, then curled in prolusion over his groin. He was generously endowed, his manroot thick, his sac heavy.

As he walked toward her she saw he was already so hard, his c.o.c.k jutted straight out from his body. She stood absolutely still while his hands went up beneath her silk skirts. His fingers played with her until her cleft was hot and sleek and creamy, then he braced his legs and lifted her onto his jutting, marble-hard c.o.c.k.

Her hands clung to his shoulders, her nails digging into the firm flesh. By the time he had unfastened all the b.u.t.tons of her bodice so that her b.r.e.a.s.t.s sprang free, she was panting with need. His tongue toyed with her nipples briefly, but it was enough to turn them into sharp little spears. He knew she needed no more foreplay.

Sean lifted off the silk gown and shift together, then he cupped her bottom and surged up inside her with a powerful thrust, a savage cry erupting from his throat.

The night exploded.

20.

Sean enjoyed the aftermath of the storm almost as much as the tempest itself.

He lay supine, while Emerald lay p.r.o.ne, full upon him, her head cushioned on his chest. This was how he liked to make her, soft with surfeit. His hands absently stroked her bottom, his lips brushed the top of her head. He felt bemused, beguiled, bewitched. He warned himself not to become too possessive. Their time together was not infinite. It was a means to an end. And it would end, he reminded himself.

He felt his s.e.x stir between their bodies. His appet.i.te for this woman was seemingly insatiable. Would he never have enough of her? "I'm taking your brother and his crew back to England tomorrow. Will you come with me? Will you trust me to smuggle you in and out of London? I'm good at it."

Her hand came up between their bodies to squeeze his shaft as it lengthened and swelled against her belly. "In and out, yes, you are good at that," she teased, trying to put off the decision. To Emerald, London was synonymous with Montagues, and she never wanted to see either again. Yet the alternative was undesirable. She did not want to be separated from this man, not even for a few nights. She raised her face to his. "Must you go?"