Love's Portrait (13 page)

“I’m—”

She didn’t finish her statement as he tilted his head at her in gentle rebuke. Confident she wasn’t about to protest any further, he grinned and offered her some fruit off the plate he held. A small smile curved her lips as she refused with a shake of her head. He studied her as her gaze drifted around his room almost as if she were seeking something.

Morgan followed her gaze, trying to see the room from her perspective. Paintings of several ships from his line adorned the walls, while a few trinkets stood on the mantelpiece. The room was devoid of any items that reflected who he really was. It was the first time he’d realized how stark his bedroom really was.

His gaze swept over his bed. The red silk sheets and black bedspread shoved down to the foot of his bed were the only things that even remotely supported the reputation he’d earned as a heartbreaker. While he’d indulged in a number of affairs, Julia was the first woman he’d ever allowed into his inner sanctum. Morgan wasn’t sure what surprised him more. The fact that he’d only just realized he’d never had a woman in his own bed before, or that Julia was the one he’d chosen to be the first.

“You’re frowning,” she murmured as she turned her gaze back to him.

“Am I?” He immediately ended his brooding and smiled at her before popping a grape into his mouth. The fruit was sweet on his tongue, although not as sweet as she was. She sniffed at his vague response, which made him laugh. “I assure you, I’m quite content at the moment.”

It was the truth. He couldn’t ever remember being so relaxed with any woman before Julia. While his desire for her was still strong, he was more than happy to simply sit beside her and enjoy the quiet peace he had discovered in her company. The strawberry he picked up from the platter reminded him of Julia’s lovely mouth.

“Do you really like living in a hotel?” Her question caught him completely off guard, and tension rocked his body as he swallowed his fruit.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” she said gently. Avoiding her gaze, he stared at the fire crackling softly in the hearth.

“I have no need for a house. The hotel suits my needs, since I’m hardly here except to eat and sleep.” The moment his words filled the air, he grimaced. Was there never going to be anything more to his life than work?

“Everyone has need of a home, Morgan,” she said softly.

“Do they? Experience has taught me that a home is far from a happy place.”

“Was your childhood that bad?” The question made him look at her.

“Bad enough to prevent me from making the same mistakes my parents did.” He bit into another strawberry. “My father wanted nothing to do with me until I was old enough to take over the family business. My mother…my mother couldn’t bear the sight of me.”

“Dear lord.” Her hand reached out to touch his chest in silent consolation. Although she didn’t ask, he knew she was wondering why. He cleared his throat.

“At first, my mother couldn’t stand to look at me because I was a reminder that she’d borne my father’s child. With each passing year, my likeness to my father only served to increase her distaste for me.”

“She must have hated your father very much.” The sympathetic note in her voice offered him the same comfort as the warm hand pressed into his chest.

“There was a bitterness in her that ate away at her until she died.” He shrugged. “I grew up in the care of a nanny and later went to boarding school. I was happy there, and I rarely went home.”

“What did you do for the holidays?” she asked with a soft gasp.

“As a rule, I stayed with school mates or remained at school.”

“It must have been very difficult for you, not having a real home to go to.”

There was a quiet understanding in her words that made his jaw clench. The sudden longing for a place to put down roots swept through him with the force of a herd of stampeding cattle. It had been years since he’d experienced such a sensation. Morgan looked down at her and forced a smile.

“I survived,” he said with a firmness that indicated he was through with the conversation.

Julia eyed him for a long moment as if testing his willingness to continue bearing his soul. When he remained silent, the assessment in her gaze said she knew there was more to his tale than what he’d shared, but she made no further effort to question him.

With a movement that reminded him of a sleek cat, Julia shifted her body until she was lying on her stomach. Every inch of her called out to him until his fingertips tingled with the urge to touch her again. He was looking forward to seeing what she looked like in the soft morning light. An image of waking up next to her for years to come flashed through his head.

Alarm streaked through him. It was a ridiculous thought influenced by their conversation. The futile wish would vanish the moment he rid himself of this lust he felt for her. She was a tempting creature, and all evening long, he’d been amazed by her response to their lovemaking. There would be many more evenings like this before they finally parted ways. Smiling at the thought, Morgan reached out to stroke her back. Her eyes were closed, and she smiled.

“That feels nice.”

Immediately setting the plate of fruit on the nightstand, he set about massaging her back. Soft sighs of pleasure echoed from her, and he enjoyed her response to his touch. Giving her pleasure filled him with quiet satisfaction. Something he’d not experienced with any woman from his past. His hands slid down to the rounded globes of her buttocks. She tensed as his finger traced the line of her cleft then skated down the inside of her thigh.

She lifted her head and glanced back over her shoulder at him. Trepidation glowed in her hazel eyes, and he leaned forward to kiss her lips. Retreating, he picked up the bowl of honey off the plate beside the bed. He grinned at the puzzled look on her face.

“Something to make you sweeter.” Brushing her hair off her back, he drizzled a thin stream of the natural sweetener over back and across her round buttocks. Her gasp of surprise made him laugh. “Don’t move or you’ll make everything sticky.”

“St. Claire,
what
are you up too?” She inhaled another sharp breath as his tongue lapped up a small section of honey from her skin.

“I’m enjoying a rare delicacy. Honey-laced Julia. Delicious.”

Laughter rolled past her lips at the wicked amusement in his voice. The man was truly a rake, but a deliciously sinful one. The teasing play of his lovemaking simply reinforced the reason why so many women had fallen for him. What woman could resist such a man? She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his tongue licking the honey off her skin.

Massaging fingertips slowly forced her legs further apart as he continued to eat the honey off the small of her back. With the slightest touch, his finger skimmed the rim of her sex, and her body gave a twitch of pleasure at the caress. His teeth razed against one buttock before he gently nipped at her flesh while his finger slid into her in a smooth stroke.

The pleasure of his caresses tugged a moan from her. God, but the man knew how to please a woman. His fingers slipped between her folds as he increased his attention to her bottom with gentle love bites and strokes of his tongue.

It was a seduction unlike anything she’d ever imagined. The need for more sent her rear arching upward as she pressed back against his strokes. Familiar desire skidded wildly through her veins. For a brief instant, she wondered how she was ever going to walk away from this pleasure—from him. Desire and need flung the thought aside. She started to roll over onto her back, but a firm hand held her in place.

“Not yet, my sweet.”

“Morgan, please. I want to feel you inside me,” she whimpered.

“And so you shall.”

His finger increased its plunges into her alternating with quick flicks to her swollen nub. Unable to help herself, her buttocks arched up higher, pushing against his hand in a silent cry for fulfillment. His hand caressed her belly then helped to ease her up onto her knees, all the while continuing to stroke her with his heated caress. Her insides ached with need and she whimpered.

“Shall I fill you now, my sweet?”

“Oh God, yes.” Was that hoarse cry really hers? Her body was on fire, and the torment of desire crashing through her made her cry out again. “Please, oh now, please.”

The suddenness of his possession pulled a cry of passion and surprise from her. He’d entered her from behind, and filled her completely. She wanted to weep from the intensity of pleasure cresting over her. Stretched and full with him, it was the most hedonistic and rapturous thing she’d ever experienced. He started to retreat and her muscles tried to clamp down on him, keep him inside of her. No, she wanted him to stay inside her like this for a little while longer.

She opened her mouth to protest, but when he pressed back into her hard and deep, her protest became a scream of delight. Once again, he retreated, but this time the delay was shorter. With each thrust, he increased the speed of his strokes until his body pounded against hers with a frenzy that matched her own decadent need for fulfillment. Hot lava rolled through her limbs toward her belly as she met his thrusts with heated passion. As molten fire reached her belly, it erupted into rapid ripples of her climax. Her body gripped his cock, tightening on it, squeezing it until he cried out and drove into her one last time and spilled his seed. The intensity of the moment blinded her to everything but the spasms of pleasure his possession had unleashed in her. Morgan slowly kneaded her bare bottom, and remained buried inside of her for a long moment. When he finally withdrew from her, a languid lethargy sped through her limbs and she slowly rolled onto her back to stare up at him.

“Thank you.” Her words seemed to please him, and he stretched out beside her. Morgan’s arm wrapped itself around her shoulders and pulled her close. She yawned.

“I think it’s time for you to take a nap.” He pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear as he issued his order.

“I don’t want to go to sleep. I want to make love all night.”

“Insatiable minx.” Chuckling, he kissed her brow. “I promise to wake you as soon as my body will allow.”

“I’ll hold you…” She yawned again, this time more widely and closed her eyes. “To that St. Claire.”

His answer was to pull her close into his chest, and she reveled in the sensation of her cheek burrowing into his chest. With his foot, he kicked the sheet up into the air and caught it with his hand. The way he gently tucked the silk covering around them struck her as a tender gesture, and when he stroked her cheek it made her sigh with contentment.

∫

A warm body shifted against him as Morgan stared up at the ceiling. He glanced down at Julia’s sleeping form. The sight sent a wave of inexplicable emotion coursing through him. For the first time in years, he actually felt happy. It was a strange sensation.

Lightly he trailed one finger down her cheek causing her to murmur something unintelligible. With great care, he slipped from her arms and slid out of bed. Retrieving his robe, he crossed the floor to the window. Small pinpoints of light sprinkled the dark sky as if the dawn was hours away, but he knew better from the clock on the mantle.

Julia had given herself to him tonight with an exquisite abandon that had thrilled and delighted him. The woman in the portrait had finally come to his bed, and she had exceeded his wildest expectations.

When they’d fallen asleep the first time, he’d promised to awaken her. But she was the one to wake first, and she’d massaged his cock until he ached to be inside her. The instant she’d mounted him had been an unexpected delight, and she’d ridden him with passion and exuberance until they’d climaxed together.

Afterward, they’d relaxed amidst the tousled sheets finishing the remnants of the fruit plate. For the first time since they’d met, she had appeared at ease in his company. Her quick wit and sharp mind, combined with her voluptuous body, made her a temptation he had succumbed to over and over again.

The memory of their lovemaking made his cock swell. God he was hotter than hell for her just thinking about it. He swallowed hard as he struggled to keep from returning to bed and waking her. Bloody hell, he needed to control himself. This entire situation was spiraling out of control. If he wasn’t careful, he’d wind up married to her.

He froze.

Married. He had no desire to marry. Did he?

The fact that he was questioning himself made him swallow hard. He turned his head to look at the woman in his bed. He’d set out to bed her, only to discover he wanted something more. But marriage? Wouldn’t it just be simpler to keep her as his mistress? No. She deserved better than that.

His shoulder pressed into wood as he leaned against the window jamb. Crossing his arms, he studied her intently from where he stood. A long time ago, he’d learned that the words marriage and happiness were completely incompatible. And yet, she made him think he was wrong. Closing his eyes, he visualized his life before Julia.

Long days merging into night as he toiled away at the shipping offices. He was a wealthy, successful businessman. But it was of little use to him without someone to share it with him. It was a cold, lonely existence with the occasional heat of a mistress here and there. Seldom was there any true joy in his life. All of that had changed since first setting eyes on Julia.

How was it possible to have fallen in love with her so quickly? So easily? The moment the insight flashed through his head, he jerked upright to stand rigid at the window. Love. It wasn’t possible. Morgan St. Clair never fell in love with the women he bedded.

His gaze fell on Julia again as she stirred in her sleep. Closing his eyes, he could see every curve and sweet dimple of her body. And he loved her. The raw simplicity of it floored him. The portrait had merely intrigued him, but the woman had captured his heart. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined he would fall in love. That he would want to marry and have someone to come home to.

No doubt, the Set would find it amusing that he’d finally succumbed to the wiles of a woman. Then again, Julia wasn’t just any woman. She was his. Tonight she’d come to him willingly and of her own free will. Not only had she come to him without coercion, she’d offered herself to him with a sweetness and passion that convinced him she had feelings for him.