Nicole Jordan - Ecstasy

His hand reached out to close over hers, staying her. Prying open her fingers, Kell captured the dice, hefting them in his hand.

Understanding dawned, as did anger. “These are weighted,” he said harshly.

“I never claimed they weren’t,” Raven responded, her own tone dulcet. “You merely assumed I would use your dice.”

Kell took a step toward her, reaching up to wrap his fingers around her throat in a gentle vise. “I don’t tolerate cheating in my establishment.”

A fleeting smile wreathed her mouth. “I never doubted it for a moment. But we must make everyone else see that.”

Praying for patience, Kell shut his eyes. “I’ve been gulled like the veriest greenhorn, haven’t I?”

“I’m afraid so.” Pulling his fingers from her throat, Raven eased from his grasp. “But I cheated for a good cause.”

Seeing the mirth trembling on her lips, Kell choked back his own bark of laughter and cursed instead. “Where in hell did you get a pair of loaded dice? No, don’t tell me. O’Malley.”

“Yes. He taught me to play cards and shoot dice.”

“And pistols as well,” Kell said darkly, remembering.

“Well, yes. He contributed a great deal to my education.”

“Your education was damned peculiar for a young lady.”

“I won’t argue with you on that point. My mother would have been appalled had she known.”

She took the dice from him and threw again. Another seven. “I believe I just won,” she said, her tone unwisely triumphant.

But Kell wasn’t willing to let her escape so easily. Grasping her arm, he turned Raven to face him and, with his body, crowded her against the hazard table, bracing his arms on either side of her to prevent her escape.

“Do you know what I do to cheats?” he asked, his voice a silken menace.

“No, what?” she said breathlessly.

His gaze dropped to her mouth. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to kiss her and wipe that knowing gleam from her incredible blue eyes. “I throw them out on their ears.”

“Would you really be so cruel to me?”

At the laughter in her question, a dozen thoughts rushed through his mind; foremost was how badly he wanted her. It would be so simple to lift her onto the table and drive himself home between her parted thighs…

Without volition, he reached up to trail his knuckles along the delicate curve of Raven’s jaw. Instantly he heard her breath catch, saw her lips part in surprise at the heated tension that suddenly sizzled between them.

Riveted, Raven stared back at him. Kell’s unexpected caress had made her stomach muscles contract, made her nipples stiffen. The feel of his hard, powerful body pressing against her own aroused a yearning ache between her thighs…

He bent closer, his eyes dark as polished onyx, his lips hovering above hers. She trembled at the warm breath dazing her senses, fearing how she would respond if Kell decided to kiss her, wondering if she could possibly deny him.

But she wasn’t required to make a decision, for suddenly he gritted his teeth and stepped back, putting a safe distance between them, his features totally shuttered.

“Go. Now,” Kell demanded. “Get out before I think of something even more cruel to do to you.”

Raven wisely decided to take his advice. Shakily she picked up her dice and fled the room.

Emma was in the entry hall, apparently waiting to say farewell. Raven exerted herself to respond calmly as she accepted her cloak from the doorman.

She had turned to go when she felt Kell’s presence. When she glanced back, she saw he had moved to stand beside Emma, one hand resting lightly on the blond-haired woman’s shoulder.

Raven felt her stomach twist with a different kind of awareness; that intimate gesture was one of a man toward his lover.

She drew a painful breath. It stung to think that the beautiful hostess was the one claiming Kell’s attentions at night while she lay alone in her bed.

Pasting a frigid smile on her mouth, though, she made a dignified exit, her head held high.

She stirred restlessly in the twilight between waking and sleeping, seeking release from the growing wildness inside her. Her pirate’s worshiping mouth was on her naked breast, roughly tender, his lips suckling her taut, straining nipple. She quivered with her quickened breathing as his rasping tongue laved in a fiery circling.

Below she felt the brush of his fingers stroking possessively against her moist cleft, rimming the slick, honeyed entrance to her body. She arched, wanting him, aching for him.

In response, his caressing lips left off tormenting her bare breasts and moved lower, his open mouth seeking her sex, his breath hot on her exposed, sensitive flesh. She released a choked moan of pleasure as he probed the swollen, aching folds with his tongue.

When she began to writhe, he pressed his face harder between her legs, both hands gripping the curves of her buttocks to hold her to him while his tongue licked and stabbed her with fire, making her burn with desire.

Her body clenched unbearably, her fingers clutching in his hair.

Yet he refused to satisfy her. Pressing one last tantalizing kiss to the core of her, he rose above her. His face was shadowed, but she could feel his intensity, his burning sensuality as he stroked the velvet hardness of his arousal against her.

Then he lowered himself upon her, the sleek heavy weight of his body pressing her shivering thighs wide.

“You are my passion and my pain,” he whispered, his voice rough.

The restlessness inside her stirred harder, hotter.

When his rigid flesh sank into her, she gasped and held him closer, drawing him even more deeply, sheathing him tightly. And when he began to move, she wound her legs around him and lifted herself to match his fierce thrusting.

It was a short, almost violent mating, her soft whimpers turning to cries as her senses erupted in climax. She shuddered as the spasms convulsed through her.

Yet when the throbbing of her body finally ebbed, when the heated pulses faded away, she still felt unsated.

Raven stirred to wakefulness, feeling the sharp lash of disappointment. She had let her mind slip into her dream world of illusion where she usually found fulfillment, but this time the usual pleasure had been missing. Even now the hungry yearning was still there, clamoring inside her. The wildness still pulled at her, along with a strange emptiness…

Rolling over, Raven drew the sheet to her naked breasts. What had gone wrong? Her fantasy lover had never before failed her like this.

She had created him to fulfill her ideals. He was all she could ask for in a lover-tender, commanding, passionate, sharp-witted. A nameless, faceless soul mate who stirred her blood and calmed her restless spirit. He rarely spoke except to challenge her, seeing her as his equal, not a conquest to be dominated or subjugated.

With him she found the tenderness she craved, the love she dared not seek from any real man. Her pirate was her protection from heartache. She could surrender to him without fear of losing herself.

But he had never seemed so insubstantial as now.

Raven shut her eyes, envisioning her pirate lover. The hard, virile face. The thick, dark lashes. The eyes that were hot, intense, passionate…

Oh, God…Kell.

She groaned softly, trying to shut out his powerful image. He bore too damningly close a resemblance to her imaginary lover.

A twinge of panic coursed through Raven as she tried to rationalize this disquieting turn of events. There was a logical reason she’d found her fantasy so disappointing. She now had a standard to compare to.

For the first time in her life, she knew what real passion was. She knew the touch of a flesh and blood man, his taste, his scent, his fiery heat… She knew Kell.

She groaned again, remembering how he had aroused her passion on her wedding night.

Murmuring a low oath, Raven buried her face in the pillow, determined to crush her vivid memories of that night. Of him.

She couldn’t deny the distressing realization, though. Her fantasy lover was no longer as satisfying as her very real husband.

The elusive husband who wanted nothing to do with her.

Raven couldn’t regret her underhanded means of forcing Kell to cooperate in his own salvation, yet she worried he wouldn’t take their wager seriously. Determined to press her case, she canceled her ride the next morning and instead surprised her husband by joining him in the breakfast room.

Kell briefly looked up from reading The Morning Chronicle, appearing disgruntled that she would invade his domain. After a terse greeting, he returned to perusing the news.

Raven didn’t let his displeasure distress her. She filled her plate from the sideboard and took the seat at his right hand, addressing him as she spread strawberry jam on a muffin.

“I spoke to Dare and Lucian yesterday about our scheme to redeem your reputation. They intend to do their utmost to help, now that you have agreed to participate.”

The sound Kell made was something between a grunt and a sigh. “I know. They attended my club last evening.”

“Did they?” Raven smiled in relief. “I was certain I could count on them.”

She took a bite of coddled egg and studied Kell. He was dressed informally again with no cravat, but his rust-colored coat molded his muscular shoulders to perfection, while the pristine white of his shirt heightened his dark good looks. She was growing accustomed to his scar, but his unabashedly sensual appeal still had the power to unsettle her.