The Recruit Read online

  Just not too soon.

  “I wish there was something I could do.”

  His blood heated at the innocent offer. He could think of a lot of things she could do. But those would keep for later.

  Stretched out on the bed before him, with her golden hair spilling out on the pillow behind her head, her lush form clad in a thin chemise and velvet robe tied loosely around the middle, adorably tiny feet peeking out from below, she was doing plenty. He drew in his breath and traced the lush curves and contours of her breasts with the back of one finger.

  He heard her draw in her breath as well, and when he looked at her face, he watched as the flush of desire washed over her. Her lips parted. Her eyes drew heavy. Her cheeks pinkened. It was one of the most erotic things he’d ever seen.

  With one touch he could arouse her passion, and it was just as hot and fiery as his.

  Desire roared through his veins. His heart started to pound and his cock swelled hard, straining and throbbing against the ties of his breeches. He wanted to take her tiny hand and wrap it around him. He wanted to feel the wet heat of her mouth sucking him. But most of all he wanted to bury himself deep inside her until she couldn’t deny this connection between them.

  “There is something you can do,” he rasped, the heat in his eyes leaving no question of his meaning.

  She feigned shock. “Are you asking me to pay you back with my body, my lord?”

  He grinned unrepentantly. “I am. And I intend for you to pay dearly. Starting right now.” His finger found the nub of her nipple, and he started to draw tiny little circles around its tip until it hardened to a delicious point. It was everything he could do not to rip the robe and chemise apart and take it in his mouth. Her breasts were incredible. So full and ripe.

  But this wasn’t going to be about lust. He was going to seduce his bride if it killed him. He wanted her begging for him.

  Mary couldn’t move. Every nerve ending in her body was flared and straining in the direction of his finger. Sweet heaven, what was he doing to her? This wasn’t going at all as she’d planned. She’d envisioned a quick and passionate coupling. Preferably in the dark. Not this intimacy. Not talking. Not teasing. Not slow, unhurried seduction.

  Like a spider to the fly, he was luring her into his dangerous web. She could feel herself sliding, slipping into a place of confusing emotions. A place where she would be unprotected and vulnerable to emotions she didn’t want to feel.

  She had to get back on track. Open her eyes and harden her heart. Passion, not tenderness. Lust, not intimacy.

  But the more she knew him, the harder it was to resist him. He wasn’t just a handsome, wicked scoundrel who’d taunted her with a night of passion. He was still cocky and arrogant, and he still had far too many women throwing themselves at his feet, but behind the bold facade he was also kind, considerate, and at times surprisingly sweet. Looking at his fierce, imposing facade, you would never know it. But she did.

  If only he would stop looking at her like that. If only he would stop touching her like that. He’d taken command of her body with one deft finger.

  “Do you like that, sweeting?” he said softly.

  She wanted to tell him no. She didn’t want to draw this out any longer than was necessary, but her breasts were so heavy. Her nipple throbbed, ached for something more.

  She was trying so hard to resist. But finally the sensation built until she couldn’t hold it any longer. The restless, impatient feeling was coming over her again. She let out a soft cry, arching into his hand. “Please.”

  Finally, he cupped her in his palms, rubbing her nipple between his finger and forefinger with just the right amount of pressure. She remembered the heat of his mouth through her gown the last time …

  She cried out again, a rush of heat pooling between her thighs.

  His slow seduction slipped. He let out a growl and covered her mouth with his, cupping and squeezing her breast with all the frenzy she could have asked for.

  His incredible chest was leaning over her, naked and warm. She didn’t have to tell herself to reach up and put her hands on him; it was instinctive. A shock of heat reverberated through her at the contact. His skin was so smooth, which seemed incongruous with the hard granite of his muscles below. Muscles that flexed and flared at her touch as her hands roamed over the broad spans of his shoulders and back.

  His kiss was growing more passionate by the second, more aggressive, his tongue plunging into her mouth with wild, carnal abandon.

  She could feel the hard press of his erection against her thigh. Feel his hands sliding between her robe to push it apart.

  Yes, she thought. This was exactly the way she wanted it. Hurried and frenzied. Hot and passionate.

  She moaned her encouragement, her hands slipping down his back to settle at his waist, pulling him more urgently against her.

  But he had more control than she. Just when she thought he was going to loosen his breeches, toss up her skirts, and plunge inside, he drew back with a harsh grunt. “Not so fast, little one. We have all night, and I intend to use every minute of it.”

  Kenneth saw her eyes widen with something that almost looked like fear.

  “Is th-that … necessary?” His gaze narrowed, and she explained hastily. “It’s just that I’ve had a long day, as I’m sure you have. I’m rather tired.”

  Tired? When a few seconds ago she’d been writhing in his arms, her body a lit keg of black powder getting ready to explode?

  His mouth fell in a hard line, suspecting what this was about. Apparently, she still wanted only one thing from him. But he had no intention of letting her dictate the terms of their marriage bed. Unwittingly, his bride had just set down a challenge to a man who couldn’t resist one.

  He hid his irritation behind a complacent smile. “Of course. I understand. We can go as fast or as slow as you like.”

  Her brow furrowed skeptically. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  He was just going to make sure she never wanted it to end.

  She eyed him warily.

  Smart lass.

  Without preamble, he started to loosen the sash at her waist. She caught his hand. “Wh-what are you d-doing?”

  “We can’t very well get this over with, with you wearing all these clothes.”

  Her eyes widened again, and she clenched the edges of her robe against her chest protectively. “I like these clothes.”

  He shrugged. “Suit yourself. You can leave on your chemise, but take off the robe.” He gave her a taunting smile. “It will go faster if it doesn’t get in the way.”

  Her eyes narrowed, guessing that he was up to something. Surprisingly, for once, she did as he asked. Sitting up, she loosened the sash, shrugged the robe from her shoulders, and tossed it on the trunk at the foot of the bed.

  He drew in his breath, momentarily distracted by the body revealed by the thin, achingly translucent piece of linen. Her breasts strained against the fabric, having obviously grown larger than the garment was originally designed to fit. The pleasant handful that he recalled from before had swelled into two firm, round mounds as big and ripe as peaches. Her pearl-sized nipples were taut and straining against the fabric.

  He felt his cock do the same.

  He glanced sharply away, smothering a pained groan, before he got distracted. Hell, he was already distracted. But his wee wife had drawn the battle lines, and he was going to do whatever it took to win.

  He stood and began to work the ties of his breeches, which given the state of his arousal wasn’t easy.

  She made what sounded suspiciously like a squeak. “What are you doing?”

  He smiled, having finally managed to free himself. “I sleep naked.”

  “You d-do?”

  “Every night.”

  Her eyes met his. He could see the frown start, almost as if she’d guessed his plan. But before she could say anything, he slid his pants down.

  She made a strangled sound in her throat and h