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but the fact that her other three companions were all infuriating,

high-handed, arrogant…
men.

Reclining on her pallet, Jenna stretched her body languidly and

waited, the events of the day still making her almost lax with

exhaustion. First, the snake, then Jonathan leaping in to kill the

panther, landing next to it and wrestling the massive head up to

plunge his knife into its neck, dark blood spurting everywhere.

Both Charles and Anthony had been approving, herself sickened

and frightened. The men had spent hours skinning the beast and

stretching out the hide, the work both bloody and gruesome.

She hadn’t fallen in love with a titled, darkly handsome lord,

but a forceful barbarian, she decided, shivering at the memory of

his reckless courage.

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A shadow crossed the doorway, hung there for a long moment,

and then he parted the fronds and came inside. Dripping from the

ocean, Jonathan smelled tangy, his skin wet and slick. He was

naked, bronzed, powerful as a god. Not saying a word, he stared

down at her, a slow smile curving his mouth when he saw she was

nude and waiting.

She met his glittering gaze almost defiantly. “My chemise is in

tatters. I wanted to spare my last bit of clothing your impatient

hands.”

“What an excellent idea.” His voice was smooth and before her

eyes she saw his reaction to the sight of her lying there, the staff

between his legs stiffening and growing, rising from the nest of

curly dark hair. His cock lengthened until it was upright against his

flat, hard stomach, the tip swelling. His testicles tightened as well,

the large sacs pulled upward. “Excuse my tardiness, my lady, I

needed to wash.”

“Away the blood?” she asked in a small voice, staring at his

blatant erection. “Jonathan, do you realize what we are becoming?

Most of the time I try not to think about our…situation. But today I

saw a titled gentleman kill a jungle beast with little more than a

small knife while I stood there watching, naked and not the least

concerned with it. The two other men on this island with us are

also normally intelligent and polite...but we are evolving into

something else, aren’t we? Savages, at the least, living for the

moment. Look at me here. I wait for you, willing to spread my legs

for the pleasure you will bring me and I will give you, my

reputation and virtue so far gone I cannot even recall why I cared

about either one.”

“What I see when I look at you is a passionate creature that

embraces the side of life our culture dismisses.” His voice was low

and persuasive as he sank down next to her. “You are fretting over

nothing, Jenna. We are strong, all of us, especially you. Strong and

beautiful and so sexy you cannot imagine your own allure. You

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need to survive like the rest of us, and to do so, you keep us

content with each other. It is simple, and yet complicated as hell.”

“I don’t feel strong, I feel—”

“Free?” he supplied, irony heavy in his voice, his hands finding

her, circling her waist.

She did, in a sense. They all were no longer bound by any rules

but their own. “I suppose,” she acquiesced quietly, looking into his

eyes. “I like being able to…give myself. I never imagined there

was such joy between men and women. The whispers I have heard

mostly hint that married ladies only endure their husband’s

attentions, anxious to give him an heir so they can sleep alone.”

“But?” His hands held her still, spanning her torso, his eyes

gleaming in the dim light.

“How can a woman eschew such sensation?” she asked,

truthfully not understanding, liking the feel of his warm palms on

her stomach and side.

“Look at it this way, if we were back in England and you had

married some young buck, eager to have you but still repressed by

the stilted confines of our societal strictures, and he had come to

you mindful of your virginal innocence, would you have enjoyed

your first coupling at all?”

Chewing on her lower lip, so very conscious of his aroused

large body next to her, Jenna asked, “What do you mean?”

His smile was a glimmer. “He would be a nervous lover,

anxious to not offend you. You would be stiff and fearful because

some sour matronly aunt had given you the lie-there-and-endure-it

speech—and because neither of you were allowed to discuss it,

much less explore your passion for each other—it would be painful

and embarrassing for you and humiliating for him. Hence why so

many men take mistresses and most married ladies seek seduction

away from their husbands. Aren’t you glad you experienced it

here, where there are no such restrictions against enjoyment over

the miracles we can give each other?”

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Emma Wildes

“I suppose.” She felt a little dubious over such facile

reassurance. “Is that why you are not married, my lord? Because of

matronly aunts and stiff, fearful brides?”

The question seemed to disconcert Jonathan, and he hesitated

before replying softly, “I have not yet married because I hadn’t met

a young woman with incredible beauty, uncontained passion, and

the ability to be inventive in bed. Roll over, Jenna.”

Blinking at the implication, she asked, “What?”

“Over.” He coaxed her with firm pressure. “I am done with

conversation. I need your soft heat. On your hands and knees.”

Letting him move her, she complied, moving into a position in

which she faced the wall of the hut with him behind her. Feeling

his hands slide over the curve of her buttocks, she took in a breath.

“What are you doing?”

“This position is one of my favorites and I think in

our…primitive surroundings, will suit the moment.” He added on a

suffocated breath, “I need to mate with you.”

She felt the pressure at her sex, his hands going to her hips.

Bracing herself, she opened her thighs slightly to accommodate his

swollen erection, her passage stretched at his insistent entrance

when he pressed deep, mounting her from behind. Her eyes closed

at the hard hot invasion, the tip of Jonathan’s shaft nudging her

womb, his hands holding her immobile. He began a systematic

seduction of her body with his persistent thrusts and withdrawals,

holding her still as he occupied her most intimate space and then

retreated. She whimpered beyond her will as she was forced

forward when he invaded, her cleft plundered by his need and

passion, their position both shocking and arousing.

He was right, it was primitive.

It was also basically a lesson in pure pleasure.

When she climaxed, it was on her elbows, his hips hard against

her bottom. She cried out and felt the tremors of her inner muscles

milk his cock, his own orgasm intense as he rocked inside her

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67

passage and exploded in a torrent of hot semen, his breathing harsh

and loud.

They were heathens, she decided dazedly when he eased out

from between her legs and pulled her to him. Both of them were

lightly touched by sweat, their bodies relaxed, not even a kiss

exchanged between them.

They had, as he said, just mated.

Outside the hut, some creature howled from the depths of the

jungle. The sound seemed appropriate.

* * * *

It would be morning soon.

On his side, the small shelter wreathed in darkness, Jonathan

lightly touched the woman sleeping next to him, feeling a little

guilty, but enough to stop. In the dim light she looked ethereal and

unfairly lovely, her voluptuous body gilded by filtered moonlight,

her tumbled hair like spun gold. His sperm was on her slim thighs,

glistening in thin rivulets.

She was right, of course. They were all under the spell of

forces ancient as time itself. The need to eat, to sleep and protect

their carefully carved out space on the island …the need to find a

sexual partner. Those basics occupied their every waking moment.

In a few hours, she would belong to someone else.

There was no reason not to wake her, he decided selfishly. She

could sleep late in the morning. He was straining and erect, his

cock rigid with the sort of need he had never felt for another

woman…by the gods, he’d almost told her that earlier. Leaning

over her, he eased her on her back and covered her body, gently

pushing her legs apart and settling between them. She began to

wake as he nibbled on her neck, his throbbing penis nudging her

female opening. “Let me know when you’re ready,” he murmured

against the curve of her throat. “But don’t,” he said, lifting his head

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and smiling wickedly into her sleepy eyes, “take too long.”

“Jonathan.” His name was a sigh and her hands lifted to lightly

rest on his back. “Don’t you ever rest?”

“Why would I rest?” he asked, kissing her right breast, savory

the silky firmness, “when you are so deliciously available.”

“What if I prefer to sleep?” she asked, her eyes still halfclosed.

“Do you?” He sucked her nipple into his mouth, teasing it with

his tongue.

“No.” Her breath shuddered in her chest as he nibbled and

licked at the bud. The admission, and the fact that she was already

slick with his discharge from their earlier intercourse, made him

enter her with slow pressure, not able to suppress a low sound of

satisfaction as he was enveloped in perfect tight wet heat. Jenna

lifted her hips to accept and take him deeper, opening her thighs

wide and raising her legs to put them around his waist. This time

he didn’t feel just the violent need for carnal release, but also the

need to touch and kiss her, and he moved slowly, looking into her

eyes. He could hear the soft wet sounds of his penis sliding in and

out of her vagina, registering the changes in her breathing as she

began to climb that orgasmic peak, holding back as he made love

to her with infinite finesse, a distinct difference from their wild

joining earlier.

“Please,” she finally begged, “Oh, Jonathan…harder.”

He kissed her flushed cheek, not complying, loving her

breathless moans. “It’s good this way, my love. Don’t be so

impatient, you’ll get there.”

Her small hands clutched frantically at his back. “I don’t want

to wait…Oh God, you’re so big…it feels so good. Help me.”

The truth was, he didn’t want to wait either. “Anything for the

lady’s pleasure,” he murmured, and suddenly pushed incredibly

deep, making her cry out. Pulling back, he did it again, fast and

hard, touching her trembling womb. Her resulting orgasm was

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intense and instant, her legs locking as she lifted against him,

forcing him as deep as he could go, her eyes tightly shut as she

uttered a low, keening scream and convulsed. He followed her,

unable to help the relentless tide of pleasure as it swept him into a

maelstrom of erotic paradise, the sensation of scalding release

unique because in spite of all his experience, he had never made

love to a woman like Jenna.

He stayed in her body a long time afterward, not withdrawing

until she had drifted back to sleep, not wanting to give up his

possession.

Dammit, he thought as he lay there next to her, one arm still

holding her close despite the warm darkness and the fact he was

sweating. He sure as hell hoped Charles and Anthony weren’t right

and he was falling in love with her.

At the same time, he was afraid it was possible.

* * * *

Days flowed, one into the other, and time became nothing but

sunrise and sunset. The rains came, day after day of incessant

moisture from dark clouds that hung above, and at first Jenna

stayed in her hut, but the men still had to forage and hunt, and soon

enough the boredom of it brought her out, too. She got used to

being wet, and in fact, the warm droplets ceased to bother her.

After killing the panther, Jonathan had given her the cured pelt,

and she had fashioned a small short skirt that hung on her hips and

covered her to her upper thighs, staying in place with a simple tie

made out of a bit of supple vine through two slits in the material. It

was barely enough to cover her bottom and front, but it was so hot

and humid each day that more clothing was unwanted and she had

deliberately made it that way. Her shift had fallen apart but she

kept a strip of cloth that she used to bind her breasts, tying it

behind her back. It afforded little actual coverage because the

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material was so sheer, and half the time she didn’t even bother.

Being bare-breasted in front of three men who saw her naked

regularly didn’t seem significant and she liked the freedom of

walking around that way.

They enjoyed it too, though they were scrupulous about their

arrangement and no one ever touched her if they were not assigned

to guard her. They wore very little but their now frayed breeches,

donning boots only to go into the jungle, and each one of them had