Page 11 of Her Wicked Highwayman
“I wouldna lie to ye.” He shot her a sinful smile, but she strangely believed him.
Beneath his coat he wore a black waistcoat with a white shirt with billowing sleeves and fine lace cuffs. He cut quite an enchanting figure that no decent woman could deny. His hips were lean and his shoulders broad, and when added to his height, she could feel the physical strength rolling off him. His pale-blond hair and leonine smile gave him the grace of a jungle cat, with corded muscles barely concealed beneath his well-tailored clothing.
Diana shivered at the thought of taking such a body between her thighs. She had never made love to a man, but she knew enough about the act to know what to expect. Her housekeeper had told her of what occurred between men and women back when she’d been ready to debut. She had believed it was her duty to impart such knowledge since Diana’s mother had died. Still, knowing the generalities of what would take place, she couldn’t calm her sudden flush of nerves. She returned her focus to their conversation, trying to remember what she’d asked him.
“You’veneverbrought a woman here?” She raised her brows as he began to unbutton his waistcoat.
“Too much of a risk, lass,” he replied. He slid off his waistcoat and draped it over the back of the single armchair in the little bedchamber.
“Then why risk it with me?” Her voice was breathless as he removed his cravat and tugged his shirt free of his black trousers.
“Because I believe ye to be the sort of woman a man would breakeveryone of his rules for.” His words were spoken softly, yet with honesty rather than seduction. He held her gaze and she saw the words he hadn’t said.
Tyburn was lonely, just like her. She understood then why she’d agreed to this and what the desire between them could give her. She would share one night with him before they both returned to their own worlds. He would ride off into the mist andbecome a mere memory, one that she could draw upon during cold winter nights, and perhaps for a few hours she could banish the chill in her bones and the ache in her chest for things that were destined never to be.
He bared his chest and she stared at him, stunned by the sight of so much skin and the hard lines of his muscles. There was a knotted pink scar on his shoulder, yet it didn’t mar the perfection of his body. Without thinking, she reached up to touch it, then pulled her hand back.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to?—”
He caught her wrist and placed her fingers on the scar. “’Tis fine, lass. ’Tis an old wound. It feels better to have yer touch upon it.” He rubbed her wrist with slow, seductive touches of his fingers, which soothed and excited her all at once.
“How did it happen?” she asked.
His full lips thinned as if he meant to stay silent, but then he spoke.
“I stopped a coach a few years ago and robbed a woman rather like ye, lass. She was a little hellion and had a pistol hidden upon her. I didna expect a lady to travel armed, so after I took my prizes from the passengers, I rode away and she shot me. The bullet passed through the front... here.” He pressed her index finger to the scar. She moved around him to see the other scar on the back of his shoulder where the bullet had exited.
“Did you let the woman tend to you?” A prickle of an emotion she’d never felt so strongly before slithered under her skin, making her feel uncomfortable and oddly cross.
Tyburn chuckled and caught her chin with his fingers, grinning down at her. “Let the hellion tend me? Certainly not, lass. I rode away as though the hounds of hell were upon my heels. If I had stayed near her, she would have put another bullet in me.”
The green tint to Diana’s vision faded. He hadn’t desired that other woman, then, but did he desire Diana? She needed him to trulywanther—it was the only way she could agree to this.
As if he could read her foolish thoughts, he leaned down until his mouth was an inch from hers.
“Ye are the only woman I’ve ever been tempted by, lass. So much so that I made an excuse tostealye.”
Her breath caught. “I thought you wanted my necklace?” Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Lord, she wanted him to kiss her, wanted it more than anything in her life. And she was fully aware of how mad that was.
“I dinna need any more bonnie jewels, lass. I have hundreds here in this very lodge. No, when I took ye tonight, it was because I wanted ye.Yeare the only pearl I crave. From the moment I saw ye, I had to have ye. I’m risking my life and that of my friends, ye ken. Do ye sense the power ye wield now? Ye hold my fate in yer hands, lass,” he murmured an instant before his lips touched hers.
Her eyes fell closed as a fire blossomed to life within her. It was as though she’d lived in some cave before, watching shadows play upon the wall, and now for the first time she was stepping into the light, feeling its intoxicating burn. That was what it meant to kiss this man. It was to be reborn in fire and see a world that she could have only imagined before.
His lips gently urged hers apart. She tasted him and moaned in shocked surprise as his tongue thrust between her lips and flicked against her own. He threaded his fingers into her hair and cupped the back of her head, making her a tender prisoner to his lips. A sudden pulsing grew between her thighs, creating a fierce ache that drove her to clutch his shoulders and cry out when the sensations became too great. His lips left hers and he curled an arm around her waist, holding her up when her knees buckled.
“Are ye all right?” he asked.
“I hurt,” she breathed out in shameful confession. Her housekeeper had never mentioned this, the pain in her body, the pain fromneedinga man.
“Where does it hurt, lass?” He slid a hand up her chemise along her outer thigh, his fingers powerful, firm, commanding as he then slid them between the juncture of her thighs and touched her bare sex where it ached most. His exploring touch was light, a whisper of a caress. “Here?” His voice was rough, yet there was a gentleness to it as well.
“Yes, there...Oh!” She jumped as he slid a finger into her. The sudden invasion, however gentle, was entirely unexpected. Her body felt like a keg of gunpowder that was sitting dangerously close to a sparking fire. Diana shuddered as he sank that finger even deeper into her, thrusting in and out in a rhythm that felt at first terrifying and then...wonderful. Her body responded to his touch with a sudden rush of slickness that made her flush with mortification.
“I... I’m sorry,” she whispered, and buried her face against his chest.
“For what, lass?” he asked, continuing to stroke her. He seemed unbothered by the wetness that was now coating his finger.
“I... am wet,” she confessed, and then shut her eyes, closing herself off from the deepening mortification.
