The Devil's Thief (4 page)

“Juliet,
Juliet,” he panted. “I can’t wait. I must have you. Now.”

Yes, yes
, was all she could think.
Now
. She wanted all of him, wanted to
feel all of him, touch all of him, now.

Chapter Three

With
a suddenness that shocked her, he broke their embrace and stepped away. She
stumbled and he caught her, but it wasn’t until he grabbed her shirt and yanked
the offending garment over her head that she understood what he was doing. Her
kerchief came off, too, and some of the pins in her hair came loose. She felt
several thick locks of hair fall from their imprisonment, tumbling down to her
shoulders.
 
He paused, panting
heavily, and stared at her.

Julianna
had no desire to hide from him. She knew she was well formed, although no
beauty. But here in the dark with him she felt beautiful, and she could tell
from the way he stared at her that he thought so, too. One hand reached
tentatively for a lock of hair that curled against her breast. She was still
covered by her chemise, but the linen was thin and no barrier to the brush and
heat of his fingers as he caressed her hair.

“What
color is it?” he asked quietly.

Julianna
cocked her head to the side and looked down at his hand against her. She
swallowed audibly. “Brown,” she whispered.

“Not
just brown,” he told her, pulling slowly on the lock of hair. It straightened
until she could feel the pressure at her scalp, until she stepped closer to him
to ease the ache. “Is it chestnut brown, or golden brown, or so deep brown it’s
almost black?” He sounded as he had earlier, as if he were talking to himself
as much as her. “Is it the rich brown of the earth, or the red-brown of
cinnamon?” When she was close enough he raised the lock of hair to his nose and
sniffed deeply. “Lavender.” He sounded bemused. “You smell as fresh as spring.”

“It’s
just plain brown,” she answered, mesmerized by him, by his reaction to her. She
still whispered, afraid to ruin the magic of the night.

“Who
are you?” His question startled her. He had not asked before. Why now? Had she
given herself away somehow?

“Juliet,”
she said desperately. “I am just Juliet.” She could not fail now, she couldn’t.
There was too much at stake.

“No,”
he told her with a smile that melted her from the inside out. “No. There is
more to you than my moonlit Juliet.”

He
untied her chemise slowly; pulling the strings as he’d just pulled her hair.
The loose material fell open across her chest, exposing the tops of her breasts,
and Julianna was astounded to see how enticing they looked that way, gleaming
in the moonlight, lush and inviting.
 
She looked up at Mr. Sharp’s face and saw he was as entranced as she
was. She tried not to think too much, focusing instead on what she saw in his
expression. There was tenderness there as well as need, as if he, too, felt
more than a simple one-night affair should warrant. When he grasped the bottom
of the chemise and gently drew it over her head, letting it drop to the floor,
she wrapped her arms around her waist, embarrassed and yet still eager for him
to hold her as he had before.

“Juliet.”
His whisper raced across her shoulders, leaving chills in its wake. He grabbed
her, all hunger and need and desire. She should have been frightened but she wasn’t.
She was relieved at how much he wanted her. It was perfect, really. It would
make it all so much easier. When his mouth came down on hers, she was ready
this time. She met him as an equal in the kiss, as desperate to complete their
bargain as he was.

She
yelped in alarm when he suddenly pulled back and swept her up into his arms.

“Bed,”
he muttered, spinning around and tossing her into the middle of his huge
mattress.

Julianna
laughed to cover the nerves that had returned full force as their encounter
moved to the bed. “Are you insane?” she cried out in surprise, as he grabbed
her left leg and dragged her down to the end of the bed. He yanked off her boot
and tossed it over his shoulder.

“You
have driven me insane,” he told her with a lascivious grin. “I am desperate to
get you naked and fuck you madly.” He yanked and then tossed her other boot
over his shoulder. It landed with a loud thump against the wall and then slid
down to the floor.

Julianna
held her breath to stifle her maidenly protest as he unbuttoned her trousers
and pulled them off. She had nothing on underneath. It was the first time she’d
ever been naked in front of a man. Mr. Sharp didn’t waste time looking. He
growled his approval at her nakedness as he climbed back on the bed, shoving
her legs apart so he could kneel between them. “You are gorgeous,” he said
roughly, leaning down and kissing her stomach. He licked her from her navel to
her mons. He hummed in appreciation while Julianna could only lay there,
stunned by the things he was doing. “You smell marvelous,” he said, his voice
muffled against her.

He
put his mouth on her, between her legs, and suckled, and Julianna gasped in a
mixture of shock and desire. “Oh!” she cried out as her shoulders curled up off
the bed. She clutched the bedcovers tightly in her fists, wanting to grab him
instead, to wrap her fists in his hair and either shove him away or hold his
mouth on her forever. Her confusion only added to the wild, uncontrollable
feelings crashing through her.

He
groaned at her response and Julianna shivered violently. This was too much,
more than she had expected. She had no idea how to go about this, had never
heard of such a thing. She pushed him away as she tried to move out from under
him. Suddenly he rose up to kneel between her legs again, breathing heavily.

“I’m
sorry, Juliet, but I can’t wait. I’ll make you fly, angel. I promise.” He
pushed her up the bed with his hands on her waist and she scrambled up until
her head rested on the pillows. Mr. Sharp fell on top of her. There was no
other word for it. His forearms lay on the bed beside her shoulders, bearing
the weight of his upper body as he smiled wickedly at her. His hips squirmed
from side to side, and Julianna automatically opened her legs more to
accommodate him.

“That’s
it, Juliet,” he murmured as he leaned down and gave her a quick, hard kiss. “Let
your Romeo in.”

It
was too fast. Julianna had no time to prepare, no time to think about it. She
just knew this was it. He was going to do it. He was going to enter her now,
and then there would be no turning back. She felt him press against her sex,
and she clutched his shoulders, keeping her shout of protest locked in her
throat. Her mind was telling her to stop this, stop him, but her body knew what
it wanted. It wanted him. Her hips tipped up to press that hard, seeking part
of him against her, to feel him sliding between her thighs, opening her, about
to enter her.

“Yes,”
he told her, “you feel so good, Juliet. Perfect.”

His
words irrationally thrilled her. She pleased him. It felt as good to him as it
did to her. Then he thrust hard inside of her and Julianna had one moment of
shock at his entry, one moment to feel the slight resistance and the sting as
he tore through that resistance, filling her. Her hands still clutched at him,
her fingernails digging into his skin as she cried out in fear and shock at
what she’d done. What they’d done.

Mr.
Sharp froze above her, his breath cutting the silence, stirring the tendrils of
hair that had escaped their confinement. Julianna moved beneath him, and he
made a quick, harsh sound, one hand going to her hip to hold her still. She
looked up at him, and the look on his face was a mixture of anger and horror.

“Juliet,
what have you done?” His voice was a harsh whisper. He closed his eyes and shook
his head. “What have I done?”

Julianna
didn’t answer him. Indeed, she was thinking the very same thing.

*
         
*
         
*

“Mr.
Sharp—”

Alasdair
cut her off with a bitter laugh. “Don’t you think you should call me Alasdair,
given that I’ve just brutally taken your virginity?” He was furious. His voice
was shaking with it. Why? Why had she lied to him? He’d wondered how desperate
she was. Well, now he knew.

He
started to pull out of her. It was torture. His mind was telling him to stop,
but his body wasn’t willing to give up the tight, wet heat of her. He was so
hard and sensitive he shuddered at the feel of her soft walls sliding against
his shaft as he moved.

“Don’t!”
she cried out, her legs wrapping tightly around him, her feet pressed to the
back of his thighs. Her movement slid him deeper into her exquisite cavern, and
Alasdair couldn’t hold back a groan. He’d never had a virgin before. Were they
all this bloody tight?

“You
were a damn virgin,” he growled at her accusingly. “You lied to me.”

She
shook her head and Alasdair saw another piece of her dark hair slide down to
rest against his pillow. “No,” she said firmly. “No, I never lied.” She
squirmed beneath him, trying to hold him tighter, and Alasdair closed his eyes
in an agony of want.

“I
thought you wanted this. I thought it was what we both wanted.” His voice was
choked and hoarse as she started to move again.

“I
do want it. I do want you.” She sounded so sincere, and Alasdair opened his
eyes to pin her with his gaze. Her eyes—what color were they? It was too
dark to tell. He could just make out the gleam of her unshed tears in the
moonlight, which was beginning to spill over the bed as the night crept closer
to dawn.

“Do
you?” he asked roughly, angry
at
her and, yes, at
himself. “Or do you just want the pearl?”

Her
lip trembled and she bit it, her teeth white and sharp in the wan light. He
shook his head at his arrogant stupidity and her duplicity.

“If
you needed it that badly, you should have told me.” He could hear the
disappointment in his voice, and didn’t care if she heard it, too. He tried
again to pull out of her. He was still hard as a pike and his body was
protesting its removal from such a bower of earthly delights, but he was
determined to do the right thing. He had never once used an unwilling woman and
he wasn’t going to continue this now.

“I
did tell you,” she threw back at him. “I told you I needed the money. But
surely you must know that if I hadn’t wanted this, I would never have let you
take me. I’ve never let anyone before.”

Alasdair
laughed self-deprecatingly. Yes, she had told him, but he’d had visions of
being her white knight. And now he was the dragon, devouring virgins in the
night. He shook his head again. He was a fool, and their situation was his
fault.
His responsibility, his to make right.

“Please,”
she whispered, and there was something there, something that made him
look
at her, made him listen. “I
do
want you,” she said in a shaky voice. “I have never wanted
anyone like this before. But here with you tonight—I want you, Alasdair.”
The way she said his name made him want to thrust hard into her, giving her
what she asked for so prettily. But she was a virgin. He could be wild, and
uncontrollable, and demanding. And God knew he liked his bed play rough and
earthy. Too much, surely, for a woman’s first foray into sexual relations, even
for a duplicitous little thief.

“Please.”
Her voice was low, filled with uncertainty and a dash of desperation. Alasdair
instinctively smoothed a hand soothingly over her hair. She turned into the caress.
“Please don’t stop.” She wouldn’t look at him as she spoke softly. He leaned
down to hear her better, so close he could smell the unexpected lavender of her
hair. She rubbed her cheek on his palm and then turned to face him. They were a
breath apart, their lips so close it would take but a thought to turn it into a
kiss. “What you have taken was freely given, Alasdair,” she whispered. “We made
a bargain, you and I.”

“How
old are you?” he belatedly asked. A woman like her, and still a virgin? Perhaps
she was younger than he had thought.

She
hesitated a moment before answering. “Twenty.”

“That
young?” he said, more to himself than to her. He suddenly felt ancient at
twenty-eight.

“Hardly,”
she said drily. “I’m told I’m practically on the shelf.”

Her
tone made him laugh. She truly was astonishing, finding the humor in an awkward
and painful situation. That thought sobered him. “Did I hurt you?” She squirmed
and he bit back another moan.

“A
little,” she said matter-of-factly. “But it already feels better.”

“I’m
sorry.” And he was. “If you had been as experienced as I thought you were,”
 
—he paused—“and I apologize
for that as well, then it would not have hurt. You seemed to desire me as much
as I desired you, and for an experienced woman that would have been enough to
ensure such a reckless beginning would have a pleasurable ending.”

“I
like it,” she told him boldly, then backed down a bit. “Well, maybe not the
last part. But I liked your kisses.” She tentatively swiped her palm across his
shoulders. “And the way you feel.” She turned her head and nuzzled his arm. “I
like the closeness. I’ve never been this close to anyone before.” She turned
her face up to his.