Taste of the Devil (19 page)

Ginny quickly realized she had become his prisoner.

To check out her supposition, she tugged at her hands to try to free them from his iron clasp.

It was to no avail. He simply arched that maddening eyebrow as if to say ‘checkmate’.

Tyler had effectively pinned her to the bed. And to himself.

She gasped. “What do you think you are doing?”

His face was starkly masculine and implacably set.

The edges of his mouth lifted slightly in victory. “I am taking a wife.”

The full weight of his body came down on her then.

“Tyler!”

“Don’t. Don’t even say it.”

He cupped her chin with his free hand. But, his touch wasn’t rough; it was very gentle. Which was rather strange. Considering his mood, she expected him to have his way with her quickly and be done with it.

She was wrong.

Carefully, he leaned forward and brushed his lips along the side of her throat. The feel of those butter soft lips sent shivers up her arms. And if she were to be truthful, his weight upon her felt as if a cozy blanket pressed into her deliciously.

She frowned. Regardless how wonderful this felt, she certainly did not want the rogue to consummate the marriage; it would stymy her opportunity for an annulment when she came into her majority. She had no intentions of being an actual wife– to anyone!

If she had wanted that, she would not have married him. Of all people.

Not to say that he couldn't be charming when he wanted to be.

Too charming.

Or that he wasn't a fine looking man.

Impossibly beautiful.

Or that he did have his own devilish brand of wit.

Annoyingly teasing!

She just did not want a real husband and that was that. End of story. "I'm sorry, Tyler, I simply must interrupt this seduction."

He gave her a guarded yet completely calm look.

It was one of his top five most dangerous expressions.

Impossible to decipher until it was too late.

"I realize you are not used to a refusal but there it is.”

Ginny blithely went on. “We have played around with this subject long enough."

"Subject?" he parroted, dryly.

She frowned. "You are well aware of my stance on this topic. I am not moved to change my mind. Please do not take it personally."

It was exactly what she had said to him before he had talked her into the marriage. Hadn't worked then; would not work now.

Yes, he was angry and if he admitted it to himself, bitterly disappointed in her masquerade but there was more at stake now. He had no doubt whatsoever that he could 'move' her aplenty on the ‘subject’. Her past reactions to him had told him everything he needed to know on that score.

And Tyler was certainly feeling both the ‘mood’

and the ‘subject’. In a call-to-arms, frontal attack, board the vessel kind of way.

In fact, he was feeling it more than he ever had in his life.

He wanted the annoying brat!

More than he had ever wanted anyone or anything that he could recall. It was the same damn reaction he had every time he came close to her!

"What can I do to change the set state of your mind, Ginny, eh?" His low voice rolled against her throat as he rubbed his chin over the sensitive skin.

Ginny swallowed convulsively.

Tyler’s teeth captured the edge of her earlobe. She could feel the sharp graze at the flap as he sensually tugged on it. Hot breath puffed against the folds, making her quiver. Then his firm lips captured that tender spot beneath her ear and suckled slowly.

Ginny's breath hitched in her throat.

A moan escaped. She did not think he would interpret the sound as an 'oh-that-felt-awful-that’s-it-you’ve-lost-your-chance’ moan.

More like, 'oh-for-the-love-of-all-that-is-holy-don't-stop’ sort of sound.

She pursed her lips, disgusted at herself.

It was obvious his interpretation was spot on when his tongue swirled delicately around the rim of her ear, teasing the inner folds with an expertise she had no idea could be achieved. A title for her next article inexplicably popped into her head: Methinks I Have Met a Fellow of the Mastered Tongue.

Perhaps the subject was offered at Oxford as a serious course of study for renegade lords?

Or perhaps she was afflicted by the famed “dreaming spires” herself. Good lord, what was he doing to her?

She was losing her mind!

The stories about him had all been true, not exaggerations at all.

His fingers gently thread through her hair. He twirled the long strands around his wrist over and over.

Now he held her to the bed and to him by his hands, his legs, his body, and her hair bound to his wrists.

‘Twas the rogue in his blood that reveled in the capture.

His mouth slid across the creamy expanse of her collarbone and down the center of her chest where his tongue dipped along the cleavage. Its silky swipe skirted the rounded globe until he drew the inside edge between his firm lips for a soft kiss.

Tossing the length of his hair back, he stared down at her, slightly tugging his wrist so that her bound hair pulled gently at her scalp. Setting the nerve-endings tingling.

Ginny sucked in a breath and gazed up at him. He was utterly, sinfully beautiful. "Oh, you're good."

He bit his bottom lip and smiled. "Does that mean you are already convinced this will be a beneficial journey to take together?"

She actually thought about it– he was that persuasive.

"It would be pleasurable, no doubt. But, I have a different idea. We could renegotiate our agreement in other ways.

What terms do you offer?"

His low laugh rumbled through her. "I am not in a position to have to offer terms, my lady." He pressed his hips against her to emphasize his point, making her blush.

Yes, he did seem to be in the rider's seat.

But that did not mean she could not bargain her way out of the situation. She had before.

"That is true, but what if I had something you wanted?"

He chuckled. "You do have something I want."

Her nostrils delicately flared. "Do not be vulgar. I meant something else. I hear your grandfather is weary of your spendthrift ways. There was talk in Frock's that he will not carry your debt much longer. What if I were to offer some of my fortune to–"

A muscle ticked in his jaw. Clearly, her proposition was not a favored bargaining chip for him.

It was confirmed when the low voice became huskier. "Oh, but I have everything I need, my lady."

He released both her hands and her hair, only to capture her face between his palms. "Right here."

His mouth came crashing down on hers.

He kissed her with an almost brutal thoroughness, leaving her no doubt that he was claiming her as his wife and no other bargain would do.

Masterfully, he covered her mouth, angling his head for the access he wanted. The firm press of his lips was so hard and so demanding that he almost made her swoon.

She felt the thrill of it to the heels of her feet. The man ignited every part of her body at once.

Ginny was never one who was adverse to new experiences; nay, she sought them out. It was in her nature to do so. Though she was sorely vexed at Tyler, a part of her was curious as to where he intended to go with this interaction.

Soon, her lips parted of their own accord.

Tyler immediately took the advantage by delving between those petals, going deep inside with a plundering kiss that claimed her once and for all. His agile tongue swept across her teeth and the roof of her mouth, sliding against her own tongue with a sizzling abrasion.

Ginny, weak-kneed at the spectacular onslaught, hazily realized that with this one act Tyler had thoroughly consummated their marriage. He had truly made her his wife.

She was in for the penny and in for the pound now.

Resigned, she sighed into his mouth. No sense not enjoying the rakehell at this point; he had already breached their agreement.

Tentatively, she kissed him back, and soon their tongues played together for the first time, twining into a slow dance of building desire. The part of him that nestled between her thighs throbbed and burned against her tender skin, getting harder and hotter the more they tasted of each other.

Tyler groaned deep in his throat. His respiration increasing, his lips moved over her face, sweet and wild. "Ginny," he breathed.

Her name sounded somehow reckless on his lips.

Reckless and deliciously wanton.

"Ginny...”

His bare chest rubbed across her hardened nipples; the curly chest-hairs abrading the sensitive tips. Ginny had no idea breasts could peak when rubbed. They became so sensitive that they throbbed in a painful–

Nay, pleasurable–

Nay, painful way.

Wait.

Mmm, definitely pleasurable. She moaned aloud.

When Tyler bent his head to capture the pointed tip between his lips, she didn't know whether to groan or gasp. It seemed utterly wicked.

The satisfaction was so immediate it had to be a sin.

Then he suckled sharply on the extended peak.

The pleasure shocked her to her core.

Did all men and women do these sort of things; or was it just him? She had to know. “Tyler, what– what exactly are you doing?”

"I told you, I am making you my wife, Ginny."

Her fingers clutched his shoulders, indenting the smooth skin of his back. "But what are you doing?"

He smiled rather devilishly against her breast. "If you don’t know then I must not be doing it well enough.” He flicked at the hardened nub with a silken tongue then laved the spot, so that the cool night air would contrast the stimulation. Capturing the nipple between his teeth, he bit down lightly before drawing it into his mouth again to suckle sharply.

My word.

Ginny trembled. Her fingers shakily covered swollen lips that were still throbbing from his last possessive kiss. The new sensations overwhelmed and confused her.

He captured her other breast and sharply drew on it as well.

She arched up off the bed.

"I- I’m not sure about this, Tyler. It-it is unsettling, and I am– just– oh, bother!” She made a small sound in the back of her throat as he suckled harder. Then she just threw her hands up in the air. “I don't know what to do with myself!"

He threw back his head and roared with laughter.

"I think you will find something to do with yourself soon enough, my lady."

She squinted warily at him. "What do you mean?"

He rubbed himself against her feminine ridge by way of explanation.

“Tyler.” She clutched his shoulders, eyes wide with shock. "You- you shouldn't think of-of such things."

Her face flamed beet red.

"Why is that, love?" He lifted her chin and softly kissed it.

"It's just so... Surely decent people don't... I mean–"

"They do. And more. Soon, I will be inside you and we will–"

Her expression went from guarded ecstasy to utter horror. "The devil you say! Let go of me at once, you perverted reprobate!"

He arched that arrogant brow. "Ginny."

At least he had stilled; even if he had not released her.

"I mean it, Tyler! You are not doing such a twisted thing! You have succeeded in seducing me thus far with your pleasuresome ways and sweeter than honey kisses, but this is the limit. Where do you get such half-baked, sordid ideas? I like to engage in amusement as much as the next person, but I would never dream up such an– OH!"

While she was ranting on, he simply raided the territory.

As any half-decent pirate would.

He smoothly lifted her legs up around his hips and slid forward. She was wet and tight. And definitely untouched.

Not that he had any doubts on that score after her caterwauling about indecent ideas that disguised themselves as lovemaking– or some such falderal.

The girl did not have a clue on this matter.

She really was naive and innocent. More so than he had first thought. The thought of her traipsing through Frock's– that debauched establishment– without a clue to the dangers she could have encountered sickened him. Her halfwit cousin Lord Henry had much to answer for as well.

And yet...

He was relieved.

Ginny hadn’t completely deceived him; she had only been adventuring. His rogue heart gave a tug. Regina Devon I thank the Fates that you are mine.

He nudged right up against the tight barrier.

She certainly wouldn't like this part. "Tell me I'll be horsewhipped and keelhauled," he whispered in her ear.

“What?”

He pressed in, slightly.

“Ow!"

She tried to scoot away from his iron grip. He held her fast. And bore in a bit more.

It hurt terribly. "Damn you! I will have you keelhauled for this!" she screeched.

"I'll hold you to it, love." Enough tiptoeing. With one sure thrust he broke through the troublesome barrier.

He sank into her, filling her to the core.

Ginny squeezed her eyes shut as a rending pain assailed her. Pain and an impossible fullness.

Tyler stilled, giving her time to adjust to him. He couldn’t wait to see how joyful she would be with this new experience he was giving her. She felt so incredible, so–

Ginny shared with him the full measure of her joy–

by grinding out through clenched teeth, "You, sir, are an utter numskull! Why someone would take it into his head to do such a depraved thing is beyond me.

Remove your debauched presence at once! This is uncomfortable and vastly peculiar. I don't like it!"

Tyler rolled his eyes. Why did he think she would do the expected? "I will let you in on a secret, Ginny.

I'm not the only one who, ah, indulges in this, as you call it, depraved thing."

"Stuff and nonsense!" Her eyes flew open. "'Tis unnatural, I am positive." A tear escaped the corner of her eye. "Now, let me up."

He felt terrible for her tears but not his introduction to lovemaking. And he had no intention of letting her up. Not until he finished the job good and proper. He needed to show her that she might have the wrong idea about this particular activity.

"Nay, sweetling, get closer to me," he rasped hoarsely.