The Devil's Pearl Part 6

His mouth moved higher and his hand took over the invasion. He worked her with one finger and then two, stroking her from the inside as his tongue fluttered over her. Julia moaned, feeling as though she might jump out of her overcharged skin, and a deep quiver rippled through her body, radiating outward over her arms and legs.

The last residual struggle melted inside her, her muscles opened and she lifted her hips higher and spread her legs wider, pushing his face and his fingers deeper into her.

Her desire raged and coiled tighter and she arched and twisted, squirming to get away but at the same time reaching for more. He trapped her, held her, forced himself even deeper, and shoved her over the edge. He absorbed her movements, stretching the quivering pulses into long, slow drags until she finally collapsed in a boneless heap on the steps.

He kissed her, stroked her gently, slowly moving his caresses down her thigh and then emerging over her, looking down at her through hooded eyes.

"Do you..." he rasped. "Can you love me?"

"I do love you, Dev." She gazed up at him, her heart constricting. Love seemed an inadequate description for her feelings. "I've loved you for so long."

"Do you...want me?" His eyes were dark, intent.

She nodded. She wanted him so badly.

He held her gaze, but his voice was sc.r.a.ped raw. "Forever?"

"Yes. Forever. Always." She wouldn't survive any other way.

In an instant he rose to his feet and gathered her in his arms, carrying her easily up the stairs. "I am taking you to bed."

She closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of his powerful arms holding her but embarra.s.sed by her lack of finery. "You won't find my bed acceptable, Dev."

He bent to kiss her forehead. "It will do."

In her room, the fire had burnt to embers and her tea sat untouched upon her tiny table. He knelt down and laid her gently on the bed, which was nothing more than a small cot pushed against the wall.

"It is yours. It smells like you. It is perfect." He ran his hands over her tattered quilt. "When you come to live with me, I want you to bring it along."

She laughed, feeling freer in her own skin than she could remember ever having felt, thinking of her little cot sitting beside the grand furniture in his Mayfair home.

Their gazes tangled and held.

"I want you naked," he said.

"I want you naked, too."

They stripped each other slowly, peeling off layers of clothing, exploring each new bit of revealed flesh with their tongues and fingers. The only item Dev took care with was his greatcoat, which he draped neatly over her chair. The rest, including her gown, petticoat, stays, and chemise ended scattered across the floor planking.

As she unb.u.t.toned his shirt, he caught her hand. She curled it into a fist, but he gently forced her fingers open. One by one, he kissed her raw fingertips. "You're hurt, Jewel."

"It is nothing," she whispered.

His hand tightened over hers. "I don't ever want to hurt you again."

"I did this to myself. Not because you hurt me, but because I was afraid you might."

"For G.o.d's sake, Julia. I would never hurt you."

She closed her eyes. "Not in a physical way, Dev. I was never concerned about that."

It was Algernon and Thomas she had been concerned for that night. She hadn't known Dev's actions had been born of desperation and deep-seated pain-emotions unfamiliar and devastating to a man like Devlin Vaughn.

"G.o.d knows I don't want to cause you any kind of pain. I never have. I know my actions hurt you, but that was unintentional." He gave a wry smile and cupped her cheek. "I think I understand how your mind works now, but it is a complicated mind, and the workings of a woman's mind is one of the great mysteries of the world. So you must promise me something."

She leaned forward and kissed his chest, then pulled the shirt over his head. "What's that?" She trailed her fingertips over his chest, her lips twitching as he shuddered from her touch.

"Promise me you'll tell me if I behave like the oaf." His tone was light, but his gaze was serious. "Promise me that if you ever fear I might hurt you again, you'll tell me before running away."

She rested her forehead against his chest, then looked up at him with stinging eyes and said solemnly, "I promise, Dev. I shouldn't have run from you like that at the opera. That was pure cowardice."

And she knew now that if she'd simply opened her heart to him and been brave enough to tell him her fears, the devastations of the last year might never have come to pa.s.s.

She knelt before him, slowly unb.u.t.toning the falls of his trousers, her heart hammering against her ribcage. She should be cold, for it was a dismal day outside and the fire was out. But heat pulsed through her veins. She slipped the final b.u.t.ton free and pushed his trousers down his legs.

If she was hot, he was boiling, so hot and hard and strong looming over her.

She touched her tongue to his shaft, then turned her face to stroke its blazing length along her cheek as she watched expressions of pleasure cross over his face.

"You are so marvelous," she murmured.

He gave her a bemused look and braced one hand on the wall. "Am I?"

"Oh yes. You are so solid, like marble, but velvet soft at the same time. And when you are inside me"-she licked from base to head-"you stroke me in places I never knew existed."

Devlin groaned. She wrapped her lips around him. His thickness tested her mouth's limits, but she opened wider, stretching so he could fill her. Slowly she moved her lips down until he pushed against the back of her throat. Even more slowly, she pulled back, swirling her tongue over him as she did.

"Julia," he growled, "I have to be inside you."

Trailing little kisses down the length of him, she murmured, "Yes," and turned away to climb on the bed.

"Stop," he ground out.

Julia froze on her hands and knees, then looked back over her shoulder at him. His gaze was riveted to her. From this angle, he could see all of her. It reminded her of that day long ago, the last time she'd seen him at the inn. She'd been on her forearms and knees, her back arched. His hands had covered her behind and he'd called her pretty, before he'd taken her with his mouth.

"Tilt your a.r.s.e higher into the air," he whispered, watching her intently. "Let me see you."

She did as she was told, leaning down onto her forearms and closing her eyes to focus on controlling her shuddering body.

He quoted himself almost to the word. "Such a pretty sight."

Julia smiled as he dropped to his knees behind her, rubbing against her. One of his hands stroked along her back and waist, moving up to smooth over her breast, sending a jolt of liquid l.u.s.t straight through her. Back and forth he stroked, teasing her, until her every breath caught and released on a little moan.

All Julia wanted was to be open for him, for him to bury himself deep inside her. "Please, Dev," she moaned again and again, arching her back, wiggling, trying to force him in. "Oh, please, please."

Ever so slowly, the invasion began. He tunneled into her inch by inch, each little push stretching her wide, building sensation until she thought she would tear down the walls with her need. When she couldn't bear any more, he pushed himself in deeper, and she shuddered. Then he dragged himself out, grazing every sensitive nerve, and the delicious torture began all over again.

His heat sizzled inside her. The exquisite pleasure of being taken, of Devlin driving in and out of her, his hands on her waist yanking her body against his own, nearly drowned her. Nothing in the world existed beyond their powerful connection, loosening and then tightening and solidifying with every one of his forceful thrusts.

White-hot delirium took over, and she lost herself in her impending o.r.g.a.s.m as it welled up and began to overtake her. But he heaved himself out, all the way out, and before she knew it, he had turned her onto her back.

"Must see your face," he gritted out. She stared at him, at the flush streaking across his cheekbones, at the tight set of his jaw, at his bared teeth. Their eyes locked, and he thrust home.

Her body demanded she break off the eye contact, close her eyes and lose herself in the sensations. But she fought it. She needed to keep this connection with him. The force of it became more profound with every drive, building until their eyes seemed linked by some powerful energy neither of them could deny.

Again the whiteness loomed up-swirling clouds ready to drive her under. Devlin's thrusts grew harder and faster. Sweat trickled down his brow. His breath sawed in his chest. But the connection between them only grew stronger, thicker, more immutable with every deep penetration. Together they hurtled toward a precipice. It frightened Julia, for she could not imagine what lay on the other side. But it was unavoidable. Devlin groaned. He grew bigger inside her, stretching her to her limit. She couldn't bear it. The edge was near.

She plummeted over, drowning in white heat, tumbling through it. Dimly, she heard her own moans mingling with his low cries. And then she knew he had fallen over too, and he was pumping deep inside her, and they were pulsing around each other in time, as if they were made for each other. And all the while, she stared into his eyes.

Much later, Julia felt stirring beside her. She opened her eyes to darkness. She stretched languidly and saw that Devlin had risen and was stoking the fire. Eventually he got it started again and lit her lamp.

He turned from the fire to see her sitting up on the side of the bed. "Sorry to wake you."

He wore only his trousers, and firelight flicked off his torso in shades of gold. She pulled the quilt to cover herself, suddenly feeling shy. The corner of his mouth quirked in a c.o.c.ky grin. "It is not necessary to hide anything from me, Jewel. I've seen it all, you know."

"I know, I just-" She sighed. "I don't know."

That fear she thought she'd banished trickled in, cutting tiny incisions into her patched-up heart. What would happen now?

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"Famished." His gaze raked her body and she felt a blush heating her cheeks. A blush! She couldn't account for it.

"I haven't much. Algernon usually brings his cook when he's here to work, and she leaves me my dinner, but on Sundays I eat simply."

He opened her cupboard. "Bread and cheese! A bit of pie! Oh and look, there's some sherry! We will eat like kings."

She grinned, running her toes along the cold planks of the floor. "With you," she whispered, "anything is a feast."

He sobered instantly and turned from the cupboard to gaze at her.

"I have something for you." He grabbed his greatcoat from the chair and in two strides stood over her. He shook the coat out and held it before him, slowly lowering himself on one knee so his gaze was even with hers. "In fact, I have two things for you. Which will you choose first? Right pocket or left?"

What could it possibly be? She considered, capturing her lower lip between her teeth. "Right."

He reached deep into the pocket and drew something out, opening his hand to reveal a ring-a single pearl, the largest she had ever seen, surrounded by tiny diamonds.

"This is not a trinket," he said, almost apologetically. "It is not a gift to try to buy you. This-it was my mother's favorite possession."

"It is-" She could hardly speak. "It is so...huge."

He smiled faintly. "My father brought it home for her from Arabia. It was an engagement gift."

"Devlin-" A family heirloom like this should belong to a wife. "It is too much."

His eyebrows knitted. "You don't like it?"

"Oh G.o.d," she bit out, blinking hard, trying not to cry. "Of course I do. It is beautiful. It's just too...too much."

"No, it isn't. Before she died, my mother told me to give it to the woman I would spend my life with."

Spend my life with. The words tumbled around wildly in Julia's head before coming to rest so she could understand them. They filled her soul until she felt like she was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with his love. She cupped his jaw, rough from a day's growth of beard, with both her hands. "I will cherish it forever. It is the most-" Her lower lip trembled. She had no words to finish.

He clasped his free hand over hers and drew it away from his cheek. He slipped the ring over her finger.

"I knew it would fit you perfectly," he murmured.

Her hand heavy with the weight of the pearl, she stared at it, but he patted the left pocket of his greatcoat. "Have you forgotten?"

She had, actually. She smiled at him.

From the pocket, he extracted a folded piece of paper and handed it to her. Hands shaking, she unfolded it and read, blinking through her clouding vision. It was a special license to marry, with both their names on it, signed by the Archbishop of Canterbury.

The world spun away. This could not be happening. She had absolutely convinced herself that Devlin would never want to marry her. And now...

She looked up at his face. The hard lines had softened into something determined yet uncertain. His breaths were shallow, his dark eyes focused on her, vulnerable, questioning. "I didn't even think of it-marriage, I mean. When we were together, I thought only of the present. But now I am thinking of the future. I want you to be the one to bear my heir. I want you by my side, always, as my wife."

He wanted to marry her.

She simply sat still, stunned. He released a long breath and nodded at the paper. "It was d.a.m.n near impossible wrangling that from him today. Cost me half my fortune."

She met his gaze. "Is this really what you want?"

His expression turned serious. "Yes."

"But what of my reputation? Everyone thinks I am a-"

He raised his hand to stop her from saying it. "n.o.body will dare speak ill of you. I won't allow it."

She shook her head. Did he understand the malice of the ton?

"Listen to me. I don't care what they say." He stroked his thumbs over her cheekbones, emphasizing each word. "I. Don't. Care. As of tomorrow, you will be Lady Vaughn."

"Tomorrow?" So soon?

He gazed at her, but the vulnerability was still there, as was the uncertainty in his voice. "If you will have me."

She launched herself into his arms, and he tumbled backward onto the floor, laughing. "Does that mean yes?"

She peppered kisses onto his face, his nose, his eyes, his forehead. "Yes, Dev. Yes, yes, yes. Is this what you told Algernon? You had it planned all along, didn't you?"

He stroked her back. "I told him I had wronged you and I promised to do right by you. When I went to him this afternoon, I told him I required your key so I could tup some sense into you."

She gasped. Rising on her knees, straddling his legs, she gave him an indignant look. "You did not!"

"Well, not in those words exactly." He grinned. "'Talk some sense into her' were the exact words I used, I believe. Then I showed him the marriage license."