Seduced by a Pirate

THIRTEEN

Phoebe had no sooner turned from escorting the viscount to his bedchamber than her husband pounced on her from behind, spinning her so that his laughing face loomed above hers.

Griffin’s voice was totally male, hungry and deep. “Your bedchamber or mine, Phoebe? Let me just add that there’ll be no yours or mine after tonight. We’ll share the bed and the chamber.”

It was everything she’d been dreaming of for hours. She felt a flash of panic. “I have to check the children.”

They’re asleep.”

I always look in on them, kiss them goodnight.”

I want to kiss you, not a child.”

He bent his head and she pulled away. “You can’t kiss me just outside your father’s bedchamber!”

He pulled her through the next door before she could take a breath, then he pushed the door shut and backed her against the wall without taking his eyes off her face. “Where are we?”

She was giggling helplessly. “A guest room. What if this was Nanny’s bedchamber? Or the nursery?”

He had one forearm braced against the wall over her head, while the other gripped his cane. His eyes were dark and as hungry as his voice.

Does your leg hurt?” she asked.

Yes. And I don’t give a damn.”

We should sit down.” It came out in a little gasp.

Lying down is better,” he said with a wicked smile. “It doesn’t hurt when I don’t put weight on it. Does this room have a large bed?”

No,” Phoebe managed. That gleam in Griffin’s eye was probably outlawed somewhere in the world. He was standing so close that she could smell leather, wind, and, faintly, a salty maleness that was more intoxicating than champagne.

I haven’t kissed you in seventeen years,” he said conversationally.

You haven’t kissed me ever!” She remembered every moment of their shadowy wedding night, and it was far too businesslike to have included kisses.

After the ceremony, in the church. Your lips were softer than I had imagined a woman’s lips could be. It was utterly terrifying.”

She giggled again and her heart lightened. There was something about his rueful, quirky smile that made anything seem possible. Even marriage.

Truly.” He brushed his lips against hers. “You’re only more beautiful now, so it’s a good thing that I grew a pair of balls in the interim. You were too much for me.”

Maybe I’m still too much for you,” she said daringly.

He ran a finger down her forehead, over her nose, caught on her lip. “Quite possible,” he said, whispering it. Then he finally bent his head and kissed her. Really kissed her. His tongue slid between her lips. It was strange . . . but it made her breath ragged. Rather timidly she began to kiss him back, realizing that kissing was a kind of intimacy, a conversation, a way of making love.

Her tongue tumbled over his. He nipped her lip; she pulled his head closer to hers and opened her mouth again, coaxing him back.

A while later she had forgotten that they were standing against a wall in a room she rarely entered. She couldn’t hear anything beside her own breathing, a faint gasp whenever he left her lips to nuzzle her cheek, her jaw, her neck, before returning to her mouth.

If I visit the children with you later,” he said finally, his voice a hoarse thread, “could we retire to our bedchamber, Phoebe? I want you. Feel this. I have the opposite problem I had as a youngster.” He took her hand and pressed it against the hard length in the front of his pantaloons.

I’ve been hard as a poker for most of the day. Please let me make up for our wedding night.”

For a moment Phoebe didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her fingers had curled instinctively, measuring the pure size and strength of his organ. Union didn’t seem physically possible. Yet heat pooled between her legs, and the only reason she wasn’t begging was because she couldn’t get her breath.

Yes,” she whispered back, moving her hand against him. Griffin could obviously feel her touch through his breeches, because he groaned and arched his body, thrusting against her fingers. In response, her own desire grew almost painful, a raging lust, to give it the proper word. A lust to see, to touch and feel and taste him.

If we don’t move, I’m going to take you right here,” he growled.

Her heart leapt. That would be just as she had imagined. The image flew through her mind again of the two of them sinking to the ground and simply rutting, like animals in heat.

Beside herself, she moaned and leaned into a hot, wet kiss. There were sounds to this sort of kissing, the rasp of breath, the smack of lips shifting places, the groan that came from one throat and was swallowed by another.

He was crowding her now, his large body pushing hers against the wall, a muscled thigh shoving between her legs. His left hand, the one not holding his cane, slid from her hip to her bottom in a caress that lit her skin on fire.

All that fire swept the place where their bodies connected, even though they were wearing clothing.

I’ve learned something about you,” Griffin said into her ear, his hand moving slowly from her bottom to the small of her back.

Mmmm.” She had pulled up his shirt so that she could slide her hands underneath the cloth. His chest was ribbed with muscle, barely dusted with hair. She wanted to light every lamp and candle in the house so she could see what she was touching.

You’re wild,” he said, clearly surprised and utterly delighted. “I married a wild woman. You merely pretend to be demure.” He was crooning it, his mouth trailing fire across her jaw and down her neck.

I don’t think so,” she gasped, torn between a wish to be truthful and a wish that she could be that woman he obviously wanted.

No wonder you couldn’t wait fourteen years for me to come home,” he said, his voice deep and understanding.

No,” she gasped.

Don’t talk.”

His voice was a velvet command, and she let him lick her into silence, loving the way his tongue sparked little trails of fire on her skin. He kissed her until she was writhing, hands biting into his shoulders, and then he suddenly nipped her earlobe. She cried out, her body consumed with flame, and she couldn’t keep the words in, no matter how he commanded.

I want you,” she said, her voice a near sob. “I want to . . .”

He spun, jerked open the door. “My bedroom?”

Four doors down on the left.” She was pressing kisses on his jaw. He seemed to have forgotten his injury as he steadily walked her backward, moving through the shadowy corridor while kissing her.

Somehow they made it through the door. Phoebe found herself sitting on the bed, watching as Griffin undid the buttons on his coat and slid it off his shoulders.

It was fascinating to watch a man undress, sensual and somehow deeply intimate.

Do you like what you see?” he said, pulling off his waistcoat.

She nodded.

I plan to watch you undress for the next fifty years,” he said conversationally.

Something that was wound tight in her heart eased.

He kept switching his cane from hand to hand as he pulled off his clothing. “Would your leg hurt less if you were lying down?” she asked, her voice quavering a little. “Would you like me to help you undress?”

He shook his head and his shirt flew to the side. Phoebe gasped. His chest was just as she had imagined, golden skin stretched over tight muscle.

Swimming in clothes is tiresome,” he told her. He bent over to pull off his boots, grunting as he pulled off the right one.

She started to her feet. “May I help?”

Yes,” he drawled. “Kneel before me, and I’ll show you precisely where I need help.” His laughing eyes spoke volumes about what he’d like her to do—and removing his remaining boot had nothing to do with it. Besides, the boot was already gone; now he was ripping free the buttons on his breeches.

Startled, she laughed, stumbled, and fell backward onto the bed.

He threw himself down beside her on his side. He was utterly gorgeous, naked and virile, his hair rumpled and that little flower under his eye somehow emphasizing his masculinity.

The seventeen-year-old in me would like to point out that, contrary to expectation and your truly dazzling self, I am still up to the task.”

Her eyes fell between his legs, laughter bubbling out, trailing off at the sight of him. He drew his hand down his length, preening.

Show-off,” she said, wrenching her eyes away.

Wounded male vanity.” He gave himself another slow caress and she found herself watching again. “I’d rather you did this for me.”