Sexual Hunger (11 page)

“Thank you, milady. I’ll be happy to go along.” Maria smiled demurely: behind his mother and his sister, Jude was trying to catch her eye. “Thank you again for assuring me a home until he returns to us.”

“Yes, well—” Lady Darington’s expression tightened, as if to say
at least you won’t be living under OUR roof.

Maria smiled again. She couldn’t agree more.

Once mother and daughter strolled toward the stairway, gesticulating as they described the designs and fabrics of their new ball gowns, Jude stepped up. He bowed slightly, extending his hand to her brother. “What a relief you’ve brought us, with this word of my brother. Sanity’s restored—until the next crisis arises!” he remarked quietly. Then he grasped Maria’s hand, as well. “And if you need to return to your studio, Rubio, I shall be happy to escort Maria back to the town house. I have a wedding photograph to show her. Had I known you were coming, I’d have fetched it up from my darkroom.”

Her brother’s lips flickered knowingly. “I’m sure Maria will welcome the diversion—and your company. If I hear anything further, I’ll let you know. And thank you for your assistance, Jude. It lent me a bit more credibility, where your father’s concerned.”

Rubio turned, and as his gaze locked with hers, Maria sensed he already knew what would happen next…could anticipate it even before the possibility twinkled like a star on her night’s horizon. “Tread carefully, dear sister. Your welfare is my utmost concern.”

“W
here on God’s earth are you taking me?” Maria whispered. Even with her hand firmly in Jude’s, the dank coolness and the flickering shadows his candle cast in the winding stone stairway conjured up images of a tomb. Not the sort of place she’d imagined when Jude had spoken of her wedding portrait.

“My darkroom is my sanctum. My sanctuary,” he explained as they reached yet another landing on the downward spiral. He stopped to face her, his eyes reflecting the small flame in the dimness of the cold stone walls. “Developing negatives requires absolute absence of daylight—which, of course, guarantees Jemma and Mum won’t interrupt me. Despite her affection for that white
rodent
, my sister faints at the mere mention of mice. And spiders? The complete undoing of every female at Wildwood.”

“Mice?” Maria murmured, trying not to look for them on the rough stone steps. “Spiders?”

Jude’s chuckle reverberated eerily in the stairwell. “Never fear, sweet Maria. I mention such pests for the sake of my privacy, but I can’t have them scurrying across my wet prints, nor do I want to deal with their droppings. The only thing in my darkroom you need concern yourself with is…the photographer. And his equipment.”

Maria’s chuckle got swallowed up in a kiss that teased her out of her fears. Why had she thought Jude would lead her anywhere frightening when he so loved to lead her astray? Jason’s absence had forced them to remain apart these past weeks, and the caress of his eager lips ignited embers that had lain dormant too long. Her breath escaped in a sigh. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him.

He set the candle on a rough ledge. Jude moaned and ran his hands along her curves as though he’d forgotten how they felt. As he cupped her backside, Maria rose on her toes to unleash her need. He felt so warm and giving, so solid and satisfying, after calling up mere memories of Jason while she satisfied herself with that ivory dildo.

Jude released her lips yet held her close. “We should look at that portrait. It’ll give you something specific to talk about, should your brother ask how you spent your time with me.”

“He knows, you know.”

Her lover blinked. “You didn’t tell him—”

“Even if Rubio weren’t a medium, he’s got enough male instinct to figure things out.” She tweaked his nose. “It’s not like he’s a paragon of virtue, either, so we keep each other’s secrets. My brother might not entirely approve of our…three-legged arrangement, but he’ll never reveal it to anyone.”

Jude nodded doubtfully. “We’d best move along, anyway. Could be Mum and my nosy sister will figure things out, too, if they saw Rubio leave without you. You’re going to love what you see!”

They reached the lower level at last, a dreary area where pieces of cast-out furniture loomed, draped in spooky sheets. Across the stone floor, Jude’s candle revealed wooden partitions, and after they stepped through a doorway there he lit an oil lamp with a reflector. The enclosed den became immediately cheerier. Enameled basins were stacked neatly in one corner of his work area, which consisted of two large tables joined in the corner. An acidic smell made her wrinkle her nose, but his lemon verbena candle masked it.

“Now—prepare yourself, fair Maria,” Jude murmured, pointing to an easel draped in a drop cloth. “While all three of the portraits I made show you to breathtaking advantage, this is my favorite. So I indulged my selfish whims and printed two enlargements of it. A gift to you, and to myself.”

He gestured for her to remove the cloth, yet she hesitated. She and Rubio had come from a working-class family; had never sat for formal portraits. Most she’d seen appeared stilted and stiff, because the subjects had to remain still for such a long time.
What if I don’t like it? He’s obviously so eager to show me…so proud of his work…

With a flick of her wrist she whipped away the cloth. Then she gasped. “Why, I resemble the Queen herself—when she was much younger, of course!”

“I was hoping you’d notice the resemblance, love. I’ve not looked at this portrait in natural light,” he added with a boyish grin. “But I’m sure Mum and Jemma will wail that
they
have never been so breathtakingly…beautifully portrayed.”

Maria stepped closer, running a finger along the plain yet elegant gilt frame he’d chosen. “It’s—well, I’ve never seen anything like it! And this hint of color—”

“A light touch of gouache, to make your lips look so…kissable and lifelike,” he whispered. “And to add dimension to your gown and hair that a mere photograph won’t capture.”

Maria swallowed hard. The portrait brought back all the anticipation—the bridal excitement—of those moments before they realized the wedding would be cancelled. “I wish Jason were here to—”

When her voice caught, Jude slipped his arm around her. “And he
will
be, sweetheart! Soon! Father has by now sent out telegrams to all his American partners, thanks to you and Rubio. He remains sternly silent about the matter, but it’s worn him thin. He detests feeling helpless.”

“So do I. Thank you for understanding that—and for bringing me to see this, Jude. I…I wish it were
real
.”

His eyebrow arched. “How do you mean,
real
? As surely as my arm holds your shoulders and my cock prods my pants, you are a living, breathing—”

“But that’s a bridal portrait. And I came away from the church unmarried.”

He pulled her close, so she could not look away from his insistent eyes…eyes that matched Jason’s. “This dream shall someday come true, Maria. I can
feel
it! Among other things.”

A snicker escaped her, and then she laughed out loud as the unladylike sound echoed around them. “You’re incorrigible!”

“A man with a passion, my dear. A need for
you
.” Jude pulled her into another ravenous kiss, which made her aware that even if, God forbid, she never saw Jason again, she was very much loved. Very much desired and cherished—even if Jude loved her in a different way.

But it was a way that thrilled her, wasn’t it? What woman didn’t adore a man who captured her so skillfully with his camera? And how could she not appreciate Jude’s humor, his slower yet thorough way of inflaming her before he made love to her? His twin’s tendencies toward rapid-fire, breathless lovemaking thrilled her because she loved Jason’s little games: she was his willing victim every time he took her.

Right here, right now, though, Jude once again proved his unique power over her. His was the subtle, sensuous, sentimental soul…a belief that she deserved to be wooed and won, as proof of his affection for her. Maria felt his lithe body rubbing hers, and once again she succumbed to the forbidden thrill of making love to a man who passed as Jason but was not.

“Up you go, my little tart,” he murmured as he lifted her to sit on his worktable. “I’ve a yen for honey and nectar, warm and pungent. Where might I find some?”

Maria’s inner muscles clenched. His sly smile widened just inches in front of hers as his gaze swept her face—and loved what he saw there. “I know a place,” she whispered. “It’s dark and mysterious. Only the brave and the confident venture inside, for fear they’ll never recover themselves after they enter those mystical gates.”

“Show me the way with your hand.” Jude slowly raised the hem of her skirt. “Am I on the right path, love? How shall I know when I arrive?”

Maria spread her thighs farther apart, pressing his palm at their moist juncture. “Just inside this seam…hidden behind a bush…God, how I love it when you rub my mound this way.”

“I thought you might.” Jude’s voice was the softest whisper. His dark eyes shone in the candle’s flickering light, and as he held her gaze, a single finger insinuated itself into the opening of her silk drawers. “Oh, Maria…so wet and willing…so sweet and warm. Your scent drives me absolutely insane.”

Her head fell back as he inserted his long middle finger, circling in a hypnotic rhythm that made her gasp and need so much more. “Jude—Jude, please fill me with your cock and—it’s been so fucking long since—”

“Ah, the lady prays a desperate prayer. But I shall make her wait, and…” Low laughter wrapped around her as he filled her with three fingers, to stroke her wet folds with maddening slowness. “I suspect my brother’s bravado impresses you—has accustomed you to his aggression and speed. But I am not my brother, sweet Maria.”

Her eyes flew open. And indeed she saw Jude’s subtler charm: the catlike grin that said he thoroughly enjoyed the chase—the tease and lead-up—as much as the actual act of joining with her. “Do you spend your hours in this room dreaming up ways to torment me, Jude? Did you make yourself a duplicate of my portrait for those times when solitary satisfaction must suffice?”

His eyes widened. “And what would you know of solitary satisfaction? Between my brother and me, we leave you little time to recuperate or grow needy again.”

“You only whet my appetite for more. I’m insatiable, you know.” Maria nipped her lip, letting her hips wiggle with his caress. “Did Jason ever tell you about the ivory dildo he brought me from one of his trips? It’s huge, Jude. Fills me so full, and feels so…
solid
when I clench my puss around its loooong thickness.”

He swallowed hard. Fumbled with the buttons of his pants. “And do you ease it in and out? Torture yourself with its ridges and textures?” he whispered. “Or do you plunge and fuck mindlessly, until—”

“Yes. Ohhhh yes.”

He scooped himself out of his drawers as his pants slithered down his legs. “And which way will you maneuver
me
, when I become your love toy, your personal slave—”

“Enter the gates and find out.” Maria gazed pointedly at his erect cock, unrestrained and ready as he rubbed it in his palm. “But first let me admire the photographer and his…equipment. What a picture you make, Jude. I could watch you all day…could suggest that you fondle yourself while I hold my hole open as your target. I bet you could splatter me from three paces, like a magnificent fountain shooting cum from—” To clarify her point, Maria slouched back against the wall and reached between her legs. She tugged the soggy seam of her drawers apart so she was fully visible to him, then held her inflamed folds open to reveal the little nub jutting above it.

“Jesus, woman, you excite me so much I can’t think!” Jude stepped closer, ready to plunge inside her. Yet he inserted only his tip, and then stood very still, gawking at the length of his cock as it bridged their quivering bodies. The springy hair at his root vibrated with his need as he tried to wait her out. Silently, he taunted her to be the one who lunged first.

The darkroom resonated with their unspoken challenges: his deeper breathing a counterpoint to her rapid panting; her feral scowl an invitation to yowl like a stray tom stalking a female in heat.

“Kiss me, Maria—”

“Take me, Jude, I—”

Words got lost in their sudden coming together. Hips angled and bucked, straining for the most solid contact before finding the familiar rhythm they’d established long, long ago. Jude grabbed Maria’s ass to arch up against that spot deep within her—the sultry, sensitive place that always made her clutch him in desperate ecstasy. She held on, hard, oblivious to the table legs scraping the rough floor. All she knew was that she had to complete herself yet again in this sensuous man’s embrace. He grew harder and more insistent, then convulsed to enter the mad, mindless frenzy of his climax.

“Yes, yes—
please
,” she whimpered, racing toward that hard, sharp edge of delicious oblivion. With a final squeeze, her body became one unrelenting spasm. On and on she undulated, seeking the release and completion that would sate her body…her soul.

She went completely still then. Totally spent.

After countless heartbeats, Maria drifted back to her present reality. Knew she was still joined with Jude, caught up in his arms as he, too, let his breathing return to normal.

“For a moment, I was wishing Jason wouldn’t come home,” he confessed, his face buried in the soft fabric of her blouse. “That’s selfish, of course. But there it is.”

Maria opened her eyes. Gazed at the photograph…the portrait this skilled photographer had preserved for her, for Jason and Jude—and for the possibility that her wedding day might not be commemorated in any other way. “I understand,” she replied with a hitch in her voice.

He sighed. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“No. We both miss him, for our own reasons. We can’t deny the emotions his absence invokes, nor should we consider them inappropriate. We’ve come too far for that, Jude.”

He nodded, and then eased himself out of her. Took a clean cloth from his table and gently wiped her before drying himself. Tugged the damp folds of her drawers together again, and then lowered her skirts. “I had intended to bring the portrait to the town house—”

“To avoid any repercussions from your family?”

“You know how ugly it gets when Mum and Sis act on their envy.”

She nodded. Again studied the portrait on its easel as he helped her down from the table. “I think I look very much at home, enthroned as the queen of your darkroom, dear Jude. If I want to see it again, we’ll have to find a reason to come down here, won’t we?”

“As though I must
hunt
for a reason.” Jude kissed her softly. Smiled ruefully. “Let’s get you to the top of the stairs, and then I’ll see that the way’s clear. What a lovely surprise it’s been, having you here—and moving forward in our quest to find Jason, of course. Shall we go?”