The Northern Devil Read online

  The prospect sent spears of anticipation blazing through her. Climax was threading through her veins, its pulses building in her loins, the rhythms driving her irresistibly on.

  He gathered her hips up in his hands, kneading her rump in those most delectable spots. She writhed again, moaning Lucas’s name, and threw a leg over his shoulders. Anything for more stimulation.

  His fingers played with her rump and hips, but always came back to her entrance. First one finger, then two, stretched her.

  But he wouldn’t let her climax. He stripped down, his shaft rampant with eagerness and sweat gleaming over his banded muscles. But always, always—his mouth and his big hands taught her how to lust.

  Soon she was more breathless than before, even more desperate for a taste of him. Her heart was pounding in her ears so loudly she couldn’t think and her hands were frantically searching out his every shape and texture.

  A third finger entered her and she stilled briefly, faintly surprised at how much he’d stretched her. But he teased her pearl again, making her hips clench and rock more and more. The rich, dark currents of orgasm were centered on his mouth and his hand, pulsing hard, building fast.

  She bucked against him when he finally lifted her hips to meet his shaft, his hands unsteady and his breathing harsh. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him deep inside her, and met him thrust for thrust, eager to claim every bit of carnal satisfaction he’d promised. His scent filled her and his strength enveloped her, while his strokes plunged into her again and again. Rapture spun closer and closer.

  He reached down between them and gently rubbed her pearl.

  Instantly she climaxed, sobbing his name as her world exploded and reformed, washing her away in crimson and gold. He followed her in the same moment, groaning her name, his hot seed filling her womb with the chance of a child.

  Sleep crept up all too easily afterward, given Rachel’s complete satiation and how protectively Lucas cuddled her against his chest, his breathing stirring her hair. She yawned and twined her legs more comfortably between his, her eyelids drooping.

  Next time, she’d have to ask him where he’d like her to kiss his body first. He’d never answered any of her questions. In fact, he’d never talked at all about how to enjoy each other—only made sure they’d done so. And it had been so delicious.

  She smiled, her eyes closing completely. There was a reason why she needed to talk to him, but she couldn’t think of it now.

  Ten seconds later, she was fast asleep.

  Chapter Six

  Lucas paused in the shadows outside the hotel. He’d have been happier in bed with Rachel. He’d left her sleeping peacefully with a note explaining he’d left to check on the Empress, in case she woke while he was gone. After the stresses and excitements of the previous hours—and a very delightful consummation of their vows—she was unlikely to stir.

  Unfortunately, this place was where his instincts insisted he should be. He glanced around, more than just his eyes alert. It was too damn quiet here, with everything speaking of a well-ordered street, not the stillness of an attack waiting to happen.

  Where the hell was Collins? That bastard should be planning something, to regain Rachel and as punishment for the younger Collins’s wounds. God forbid he should go after the Empress. Made of wood and furnished with heavy silks, she’d go up like a bonfire.

  He stepped out into the moonlight, broken by clouds passing before the moon. An instant later, his sentry gave him the all-clear and Lucas loped toward the station and the Empress.

  He paused a block away to consider the scene. Everything looked as it should—the well-tended private Pullman, the station in the background with its lights glimmering amid the smoky fog from the rail yard, and the slums only a few blocks away next to the rail yard. Now that it was past midnight, only the slums and the rail yard were vibrant, but even they were more subdued than in daylight.

  Oddly, the slums were quieter than they should be at this hour. He’d have thought that at least one of the saloons would have a piano blaring out a tune, but there were only a few soft melodies to be heard.

  Lucas slipped into the shadows and went forward more cautiously.

  A cluster of bobbing torches, like a great beast, surged forward out of the slums toward the Empress.

  “Now, boys!” shouted a Bostonian. Dammit, it was Collins’s bully boy, Holloway. “Remember—a hundred dollars in gold if you bring me the woman, unharmed.”

  They didn’t know Rachel was at the hotel? He’d known a spy hadn’t followed them from the wedding. But Collins must have been very distracted not to have reconnoitered the Empress more thoroughly.

  A hungry roar answered him and the mob charged.

  Lucas hurled himself into the fight, dirk drawn. A feint, a slash, and a stab killed the villain who’d meant to knife one of Donovan & Sons’ best farriers. With the fallen ruffian’s torch in one hand and his dirk in the other, he began the true—and very bloody—fight, with blood, burns, and broken bones to count score by.

  But the bastards just kept coming and pushing his men back toward the Empress. The torches’ heat was intense, blinding his eyes and searing his face—a bitter contrast to the icy ground they fought on. If one of those torches reached the Pullman, she’d catch fire since there was no firefighting when the water barrels were frozen.

  A torch sailed overhead, tumbling in great arcs to land barely a foot short of the Empress. Braden and Lawson, conspicuous in their livery, immediately pounced and doused it.

  Lucas shoved a ruffian into the one who’d thrown it. They both went down, tripping their fellows. But more appeared, like rats.

  Dammit, how many men had Collins bought?

  A growl went up from behind the Empress, which turned into a full-throated roar. A phalanx of Union Pacific mechanics, switchmen, and other workers swung into sight, heavy tools over their shoulders.

  The slum rats hesitated, shifting from foot to foot.

  The phalanx advanced farther and began to tap their tools on the palms of their callused hands, demonstrating easy mastery of the deadly pieces of iron and wood.

  The slum rats turned and fled back to their warrens, carrying their wounded, hastened by the winners’ taunts.

  Lucas watched them go, allowing himself a smile. The war wasn’t won, but Collins would think twice before he tried another brazen attack against Lucas’s railroad car.

  A little later, Lucas silently slipped back into his hotel room, holding the latch up to avoid even the slightest click, and purred at what he’d come back to.

  Rachel slept on, undisturbed, a single stray beam of moonlight bathing her pure profile. She was naked now, thank God, and her mouth was slightly swollen, drawing attention to its sensual outline. The image, in fact, of everything he wanted.

  Good Lord, how that woman could kiss! He should have known that Davis’s blatant satisfaction with his marriage was due to more than Rachel’s intelligence and skill as a nurse. Lucas could have spent hours last night enjoying her taste and textures—and the way her tongue danced with his! Only her hips undulating against him had made him depart to explore her breasts and thighs and…

  He’d find no hardships in conceiving a child with her, especially given her complete delight in carnal activities.

  She muttered something and rolled over, displaying a bare shoulder and arm that could have graced a temple atop Athens’ Acropolis. His mouth dried, aching with the need to kiss and lick every smooth inch.

  Two seconds later, he’d unceremoniously hung his coat on a hook and was jerking off his boots. He shoved his suspenders down his arms and unbuttoned his trousers with fingers that were far too clumsy for a man of his experience.

  His drawers caught on his swollen cock when he first tried to pull them off. Cursing under his breath, he eased the fine linen away and a cool breath of air kissed his cockhead. Fire and ice lanced into his gut and his heart. His cock surged, pre-come gliding down in a heated stream. Oh yes,
he’d be in Rachel’s arms again soon…

  He stroked himself slowly, using his foreskin and the sandalwood-scented oil Mitchell had thoughtfully provided to polish his shaft, his eyes shut to focus on and increase the sensations. Fireflies of pleasure floated into Lucas’s groin and through his body, speeding his pulse and his breathing. It felt so delectable, perhaps he should simply stand here and prepare himself while watching her, then go to bed with her.

  Another blast of cold rocketed across his ankles from under his door. He hopped, damning all hotels who couldn’t keep drafts out of their rooms.

  Or perhaps he should simply stop being a triumphant fool and warm himself up in Rachel’s bed.

  He glanced over at her. Her back was turned to him—still begging for a kiss!—so she shouldn’t notice if he was rampant, as long as he didn’t touch her.

  He used his shirt to quickly rub the snow out of his hair, and inserted himself smoothly into the bed. He settled where he could see the clean furrow of her back and her elegant shoulder, his cock now happily warm. Only a few inches separated them now, the covers locking them in an intimate cocoon, while the hotel’s sounds were blurred and distant beyond the room’s walls.

  Damn, she smelled good—all female without any cloyingly sweet perfumes and a trace of his musk to mark her. His skin prickled with sensual awareness, as if every inch of skin, every muscle and nerve, wanted more of her in their own ways. His chest tightened, making breathing difficult and turning his nipples into hard centers of desperation.

  She mumbled something and moved back against him, wiggling her rump against his crotch and settling herself against him from shoulder to knee. It was the unconscious, confident move of a well-loved wife, not that of a whore who can make more money in other activities than sleeping with a man and therefore seldom does so.

  Caught by total surprise, Lucas groaned with pure pleasure. His balls were tucked between his legs and the underside of her rump, while his rampant cock fit snugly between his belly and the narrow crack separating the twin globes of her rear. They were so tightly pressed together that the slightest movement by either of them could result in his foreskin’s capture and his subsequent masturbation.

  He closed his eyes in pure bliss, absorbing how perfectly they fitted together. Blood rushed into his cock, setting its veins throbbing and making him even more incredibly sensitive.

  Rachel wriggled again, much harder this time, not quite pulling away from him. Her rump rubbed over his cock.

  His breath caught in his throat. His left hand, which had just been slipping around to cup her breast, froze.

  She rubbed herself against him again—and dragged his foreskin up his cock.

  Lucas gasped, the most incredible tendrils of pleasure rippling through his spine and into his nipples. Nothing else he’d ever done—and he’d always made every effort to seek out new forms of sexual delight whenever possible—had ever felt as enjoyable as the results of her untutored movements. “Oh, dear God in heaven, Rachel…”

  “Are you awake?” Mercifully she sounded alert.

  He chuckled rather brokenly and gently wrapped his arms around her. “Of course I am.”

  He cupped her breast in his left hand and began to delicately draw circles on her soft skin with a single finger.

  She writhed again, but not as much, and laid her head back against his right shoulder. “You’ve been outside,” she observed and rested her hand on his wrist, gently encouraging his attentions.

  “Hmm.” He willingly fondled her breasts, glad she was so eager. The pressure of her rump against him was enough to drive a saint insane, their sweat acting together with his pre-come to lubricate his cock and make his foreskin move faster. Hell, it felt like the most subtle, sustained hand job he’d ever had, sending shards of lust through his body every time she shifted.

  His right hand fanned over her belly in a pattern of soft caresses, designed to carry his fingers south to her delectable intimate flesh. Surely you must feel some of the same excitement I do…

  She sighed and relaxed subtly against him, stroking his left hand. He gently rubbed and squeezed her breast, making her groan and arch back against him—and driving her hips into his.

  His cock hardened further and his pulse slammed.

  Rachel gasped. “Lucas…”

  Good; she definitely sounded very willing.

  She wriggled again, making his foreskin slide even farther and faster, up and down his cock. He slipped a single finger between her legs and started teasing her pearl.

  “Lucas, you feel bigger against me—oh, my!—in this position than you did last night. Did I have all of that—ah!—inside me then, or are you bigger now?”

  He stilled, caught just as he was about to delve for the source of the cream glossing her thighs.

  An old jealousy awoke, burning the most primal sphere. Lucas had shown her more carnal pleasure, but Davis had held her heart. That must be why she’d hesitated so long before she’d agreed to marry him.

  What the hell was he to do?

  He could burn himself into her memory, stamp her with his possession, every time they made love. It would have to be enough.

  His fingers ruffled her inner folds. He nuzzled her hair and courted her breasts more assiduously. “Yes, you did, darling Rachel,” he purred against her ear, “and you’ll enjoy it just as much the next time.”

  He caught her earlobe between his teeth and sucked it gently.

  She moaned softly, arching her neck to offer herself for the caress.

  Damn, she was lovely with passion’s flush gliding over her creamy skin. She moved so easily and spontaneously, too, as graceful as a young doe running across a meadow.

  She stroked her hand down his thigh, the only caress she could consciously provide. She tried to roll over to face him but he stopped her, slipping a single finger into her. “No. I’m enjoying myself; aren’t you?”

  He circled it slowly inside her, exploring how tight she was. His hips rocked forward desperately, urged on by his throbbing cock.

  “I can’t see your face,” she protested hoarsely, shifting against his hand, rubbing her derrière against his cock. It somehow managed to swell even more, until it was a single pounding ache that demanded everything from his thighs, hips, and spine. His balls tucked themselves up against their roots, hot and frantic for release.

  He ignored her demurral, slipped a second finger into her in response, and began to slowly pump her. Conversation was for parlors and dining rooms, not times like this.

  Rachel groaned and yielded, as clearly as she had the night before. Cream flowed over his hand, marking her willingness and easing his way.

  “That’s it, that’s my girl,” he crooned encouragement. His lungs were tight, barely able to power the pulses building in his loins, as his body fought his brain’s command to wait for her.

  “Ah, Lucas, please…” Her breath caught in her throat when his third finger fucked her. Her hips pushed back against his, fully matching his hand’s rhythm.

  Thank God.

  He lifted her leg, opening her to him, and shifted.

  She uttered a raw, questioning sound of feminine desperation and tried to roll to face him.

  His cock slid down her back, leaving its frustrating nest against her rump, and slipped between her thighs. He cupped her mound with his hand, controlling her, and fondled her pearl again.

  She was closer to the verge than he’d expected: She cried out in rapture, spasms rippling through her intimate flesh.

  He twisted against her and his cock slid inside her. Last night, with her, had been the first time his cock had ever felt all the wonders of a woman’s interior without the barrier of a condom. It had been everything and more than he’d dreamed of—and he’d immediately lost all control. Surely he could do better this time, for both of their sakes.

  She was hot and wet, slick and rapturous, delicate muscles embracing his cock. Perfection.

  Her channel clenched his cock, dragg
ing it deeper and deeper, caressing it. He threw back his head and groaned, his hips rocking against her.

  Her orgasmic waves started to slow, just as he set his hand on her.

  Take your time, Lucas. You know how to show her the stars again…

  He gritted his teeth and fought for both of them. He moved slowly and steadily inside her, his free hand circling her pearl, his impending climax darkening his vision.

  Her body started to pulse around his and she grabbed his hand, kneading it like a cat.

  Finally! He allowed himself to move faster, still holding her against him spoon fashion and savoring the access to her. Joy of joys, the only sounds coming out of her mouth now were his name.

  He growled his triumph at the thought, all restraints falling away. He bucked once, twice—and climaxed, fire bright waves of pleasure tumbling him over and over, as thoroughly as he washed her womb with his seed. As completely as Rachel intimately locked her body around him, pulsing with delight, and sobbed his name.

  Afterward, he rolled her over to face him. “Rachel, darling, I promise you that next time, we’ll look each other in the eye.”

  She looked at him blearily. “Tyrant. You’re not truly sorry for taking me from behind, are you?”

  He tried to conceal his all-too-satisfied grin. “Are you?”

  She harrumphed. “Undoubtedly a tyrant. No, not really.” She flung her arm around his waist and abandoned herself to slumber, her head resting trustfully against his shoulder.

  Lucas smiled wryly at the title and he pulled her closer, their skin clinging together. He frowned at the sensation: There was more involved than sweat. His seed. His seed’s stickiness linked them.

  The skin on the nape of his neck stood up.

  For the second time in his life, he’d tried to make a baby—another little one who might die as a result of his folly…

  He blanched, ice-cold terror seizing him like a grizzly’s claws. He almost shoved away from Rachel to demand that she douche.

  Outside on the street below, someone whistled “Kathleen Mavoureen,” often chosen as a password by Donovan & Sons’ men. The sentries were keeping watch, lest Collins try to attack Rachel again. And the only safety for her was breeding a child to inherit the Davis fortune and break Collins’s rights as a trustee. Lucas had married her and he’d sworn to protect her, which meant giving her that child. Plus, the only way for him to have a family was with her.