Whispers Page 3

  "A witch? No, no. You're mistaken.” The fog in her mind dissolved when he removed his hand. Anger replaced her erotic sensations. Why did she keep falling under this man's spell? He was handsome, but she had met handsome men before. She became irritated at her own fickle mind. “Perhaps being able to touch has nothing to do with me. Perhaps it's because you're not really a ghost, and this is some sort of sick joke.” Lady Denville wasn't normally one to play practical jokes, but the rumors of Rose's abilities were often the subject of scorn and gossip. She could see the dowager pulling a stunt like this to increase her own social standing.

  "I'm not—Of course I'm a ghost. Would I be in this dingy townhouse otherwise?” The man stood and framed her face with his hands.

  "I still don't know your name, sir."

  "Unbelievable.” The man dragged his fingers over her jaw and neck.

  "Your name?"

  He inched his hands down over her shoulders. “Jonathan.” The word tumbled out of him as an afterthought. He focused on his hands as they moved downward.

  "Jonathan.” Rose tested the name on her lips. It was the name she heard in the hallway. She liked the sound of it. It was soft and endearing, much like his voice.

  He held his hands still just above the curve of her breasts. “You're so soft. I can't believe...” He moistened his lips.

  Rose's breath quickened, and her breasts ached as they pressed against her dress. “Go on, touch them."

  "What?"

  She smiled at his surprised expression. “Go ahead.” Her heart fluttered as he drew his hands down to cup her breasts.

  "They feel so warm.” Amazement and wonder flooded his voice.

  "Of course they're real.” Rose knew that what they were doing was improper, that any well-bred lady would storm out of the bedroom in disgust, and yet she couldn't. She lacked the strength to lift her hands, let alone walk away. Those blue eyes captivated her, commanded her attention, and drew her in.

  She watched his awed expression as he rubbed his palms over her nipples. Desire rose up and claimed her body, and a strong, primal hunger awoke deep inside her. She ached for this man, ached for him unlike any other. Judging from the look in his eyes, he wanted her too.

  Something in the air changed, and Rose felt a presence with them, watching them. A cool breeze rippled over her skin, and Jonathan started to glow, just as he had earlier with the dark-haired man. Soft yellow light surrounded his body, drawing attention to his honey-colored locks and tanned skin. He eased his hands up to the edge of her dress, then traced the hem up her chest with his fingers. When he reached her shoulder, he hooked his thumbs under the thick fabric and eased it down over her skin.

  He leaned forward, then paused, his lips hovering next to hers. She could smell his breath as it puffed over her skin. It was sweet, like forbidden dessert. She stilled as his gaze flicked to her mouth. She moistened her lips, then closed the rest of the distance between them.

  She wanted this. More than anything she wanted this. Rose parted her lips and swept her tongue lightly over his skin. He gasped, a startled yet hungry sound, then covered her mouth with his.

  He tasted soft and sweet, like a lemon tart with sweet cream. It was a delightful mix that made her knees weak and her pulse race. He groaned and tilted his head, deepening the kiss. Jonathan brushed his tongue against her parted lips, urging them wider. She complied and was rewarded when his tongue swept through her mouth, claiming both her body and mind for his own.

  Rose sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, wishing she could pull his body into hers. Never before had she felt so wanton, so free. This man she barely knew made her feel more beautiful, more cherished than she had ever felt before, and that included her time with her husband.

  He broke away from her lips, then kissed a long, sensual line down her neck. Fire followed his touch, its flames caressing every inch of skin. Rose lifted her head to give him better access. He lingered at the spot where her neck met her shoulder, sweeping his tongue over the intimate place and groaning his approval. He continued onward, kissing along the edge of her shoulder as his hands toyed with the upper mounds of her breasts.

  Rose knew that she should be shocked, that she should slap him for his impropriety, but his touch felt so good. He ran his finger along the hem of her dress, tracing each of her breasts in turn. Tingles sparked in her chest, then quickly spread. Rose closed her eyes and groaned as pleasure coiled around her muscles, and made her weak with desire.

  "Exquisite,” he murmured against her skin. “You taste like sweet wine, the perfect dessert."

  Something rippled in the air around her. She could feel the heavy press on her body. Jonathan sighed and pulled away, adjusting her dress back into place as he straightened. What was going on?

  She saw the flicker of fear in Jonathan's eyes. He stepped back as Rose's pleasure drained from her body. She watched as he moved to the window and peeked through the crack in the curtains.

  "What are you looking for?” she asked.

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Not what. Who."

  "What are you talking about?"

  He pulled away from the crack and stared at her. “Not what I'm looking for, but who I'm looking for. I'm looking for Lionel.” He moved past her to the door, his long, purposeful strides a testament to his somber change in attitude. “He must be informed.” He paused at the door and flexed his fingers. Rose saw his shoulders tense and wondered what had made him so stressed.

  "Who's Lionel?” she asked.

  He turned to face her. “Don't go anywhere."

  "Why?"

  "Just trust me on this. I'll be right back."

  She didn't know if she should trust him, but curiosity got the better of her. What was he up to? She nodded her agreement.

  He bowed his head and then turned back to the door. Within seconds, his body transformed into a spirit, a bright yellow tendril of light swirling and sparkling like stars in the sky, and then he disappeared through the crack.

  Without Jonathan's ethereal glow, the room became eerily dark. What had just happened? Her legs suddenly felt weak, and she sat down on the bed. She ran her hand over the soft covers, her head filling with images of what she saw the two men doing only a short while ago.

  Within seconds, mist poured in through the crack in the door and solidified into a man.

  "Thank heavens you're still here,” he said.

  "Where did you go?” she asked.

  "It doesn't matter.” Jonathan appeared calmer now, more in control.

  "Who's Lionel? Why must you tell him about me?"

  He hesitated for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “He was the other one you saw earlier. Lionel and I are trapped in this house by a curse."

  "A curse?” Rose's skin tingled with awareness as he sat down next to her on the bed and cradled her hand between both of his.

  "Yes. We are bound to this house, destined to wander these rooms forever.” He gestured to the room around him. “We are trapped here but live in the spirit world."

  "Why would anyone curse you?” she asked, still trying to wrap her head around his sudden change in attitude. How could the man go from smooth and seductive one moment to cool and practical the next?

  A sad smile crossed his face. “Because people don't like what they cannot understand.” He brought her hand to his lips and placed a soft hiss to her knuckles. Her skin burned and despite her confusion, a spark of desire ignited in her abdomen once more.

  She'd never had someone give her his full attention before, not even her husband. Rose had no idea what she was missing. The man before her was filled with so much desire that it spilled into the room, and she was caught up in it. For a woman who had suppressed her feelings her entire life, she found it rather overwhelming.

  "And it wasn't a curse exactly,” he said. “At least, it didn't start out that way. A better description might be a spell gone awry.” His face brightened as he lowered their hands to his lap. “The better
question is, how can we break it?"

  "How?” This was what Rose needed to know and why she had entered the room in the first place. She couldn't help but feel a little disappointed over his line of thinking, however. This man seemed so...practical. How could he think straight? All she wanted to do was taste the curve of his jaw, run her tongue over the rim of his ear. It was difficult to think of anything else.

  He held and kissed her hand with a soft, seductive touch, but his words were cold and analytical. Gone were the wonder and amazement; gone was the excitement in the air. His eyes were distant, his features blank. This reminded her more of her time with her husband, when sex was just a marital duty one needed to get out of the way in order to move on to better things.

  He flicked his gaze to her lips, and for a brief moment, the fire in his eyes returned. “Lionel and I aren't entirely sure, although we have our suspicions. Only a special woman, one with the ability to talk and touch spirits, can break the spell."

  "One who can talk to spirits?” She pulled her hand from his grasp.

  "Yes, someone like you."

  "But...” Rose knew nothing of spells or spirits. She was just a woman, a widow who helped ease old women's minds in exchange for money. She wouldn't even be here if she didn't need food and shelter.

  He reached out and cupped her cheek. “I can touch you.” He took her hand and placed it between the edges of his robe, along the smooth planes of his chest. “You can touch me.” He inched her hand lower, tracing the skin next to the hem of his dressing gown until they reached the bottom of the V opening. They lingered there, and Rose wondered if she should dare go lower. As wonderful as his chest felt, she longed to run her hands over his abdomen, explore the curve of his hip.

  "Rose, I believe you are the person we're looking for."

  "Me?” Rose lifted her head. “You must be insane. I have no special abilities."

  "Yes, you do. Every time we touch, the air changes around us. Can you feel it?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about.” Rose thought back and remembered the cool breeze brushing over her skin and the ripple of emotion she'd felt when she was close to the men.

  "You are connected to the spirit world, and therefore connected to us.” He guided her hand down over his robe and placed it on his large, thick erection. “Feel what your presence does to me.” He glanced down at her chest. “I know it affects you as well."

  She gasped as his cock jerked beneath her fingers. “You don't affect me at all.” It was a lie, of course, but Rose didn't want this man to know how deeply his words and actions influenced her emotions. She wondered how he would react if she closed her fingers around him and ran her hand along his shaft.

  Jonathan leaned forward until his lips hovered above hers. “Do you mind?"

  Unable to speak, she shook her head.

  "You see?” He flashed her that gorgeous dimpled smile. “You can't resist me.” He shifted his gaze back to her lips. “Just like I can't resist you.” He covered her mouth with his own.

  The kiss was gentle, and Rose could smell his clean, sweet scent, taste the richness of his skin. She began to feel light-headed. He grasped her arms and held her steady as he tilted his head and probed along the side of her mouth.

  She closed her eyes and parted her lips, inviting him in. She knew what she was doing was improper, but she didn't care. It wasn't like she was a debutante in her first Season; she was a widow, one with needs. If what she saw earlier was any indication, then these men would be able to help her fulfill those needs in new and exciting ways. She wouldn't have to endure boring sex or use her own hand to find fulfillment. She could experience and enjoy it.

  He entered gently, sampling her mouth with his tongue and teeth. A deep, primal hunger burst to life, warming her skin and making her feel weak. Her muscles tightened, and moisture pooled between her thighs.

  Jonathan inched closer as he plunged deeper into her mouth. She moaned as the kiss became more possessive. Rose slid her tongue over his, tasting him, enjoying him.

  He slid his free hand down over her elbow, then her forearm, and finally along her fingers. He covered her hand, inched it under his robe, and pressed it against his shaft. Now both of her hands encircled his erection, and it felt so warm and thick in her palms. She curled her fingers around his length. Rose felt him grow and harden. It added to her excitement. Knowing that he lusted after her made Rose feel powerful and wanton.

  He let go of her hands and allowed her to take control. She caressed him with long, commanding strokes. He groaned against her mouth as he trailed his fingers back up her arms and to her shoulders. Everywhere he touched, her skin tingled. Her clothes felt heavy and damp. She wanted nothing more than to strip them off and press her naked body next to his, feel his weight between her legs.

  As if sensing her urgency, he eased his hands down and wrapped his arms around her waist, then pulled her back down onto the bed and into his lap. The movement forced her to let go of his cock. She squeaked against his mouth and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His warm chuckle vibrated through her all the way down to her toes. He continued to kiss her as he cupped her breast, rubbing his palm along the edge of her dress as he did before. Sensation rolled through her body, and her lower abdomen tightened with longing. Rose placed her hands on his chest, enjoying the feel of muscle under his dressing gown. She shifted her body and straddled his hips, shivering as the silky material of his robe slid over her skin. He growled against her mouth, the vibration rippling along her teeth and tongue. She moved her hips up and down over his lap, suddenly desperate for the intimacy of skin-on-skin contact.

  He dragged his hands down her body, then curled his fingers into her sides and eased them both into a standing position. The air filled with tension and heat as he slid his hands down her back to the base of her laces. Slowly he undid them, one by one, until her dress was open and cool air rushed against her skin.

  He pulled back and eased the dress down off her body. Once free of the cumbersome fabric, he took her hand and helped her step out of the garments.

  "Beautiful,” he whispered.

  Rose warmed all over. She knew what he intended, knew what she was getting herself into and how scandalous it would be, and it caused her heart to race with excitement. For the first time, Rose was doing something because she wanted to do it, not because it was expected of her. It made her feel fresh and alive.

  He turned her around and started working on her petticoat and corset. Soon those fell too, until all she had left was her shift, drawers, and stockings.

  "Arms up, my dear."

  Rose locked her gaze with his as she did as she was asked. Slowly he removed her shift. Rose held her breath as he brushed the sides of her breasts. She felt them tingle, as if awakening for the first time in her life. When he finished, he lowered her arms and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was gentle and passionate, and when he eventually pulled away, she was breathless.

  "Are you sure you want this?” he asked. “This may be your last chance to walk away. Once we start...” He glanced at her round, full breasts. “I might not be able to stop."

  She reached out and touched his chin, then lifted his head until their gazes met. “I want this.” More than anything. This was what she needed, she decided. To spend one wonderful night in the arms of a man who desired her as much as she desired him. Her marriage was nothing more than an exchange of money and property, done without love or fuss. This... This was how things were supposed to be.

  "All right.” He bent forward and kissed her once more. She opened herself to him, determined to live in the moment. She wasn't sorry she did. He invaded her mouth. Hunger sprang up from a place deep inside her, and soon Rose was kissing him with as much passion as he kissed her. He placed his palm at the back of her head, deepening the kiss. Rose closed her eyes and let the erotic sensations tumble over her one by one. She never wanted it to end.

  Still connected, he turned both their bodies and inched he
r back step-by-step until she bumped into the mattress. With a gentle push, he eased her down until she was flat on her back and he was on top of her.

  His weight felt good, and Rose threaded her arms around his neck. His warm, hard body pressed against her, causing her skin to tingle with excitement. He felt incredible, but she wanted more. She wanted him to do to her what Lionel had done to him.

  The air shifted once more, and a cool breeze blew across her skin. Her nipples ached, and something fluttered in her abdomen. She dug her fingers into his shoulders as memories of Lionel and Jonathan flashed through her mind.

  Jonathan broke away, then kissed a line of fire along her jaw and neck. Rose closed her eyes and gave herself over to her desire. She felt dizzy and yet didn't dare tell him to stop so she could catch her breath. She needed this far too much to have him stop now.

  Everywhere he touched, she burned, everywhere he kissed, she ached. He removed her drawers and stockings with agonizing slowness. With each brush of his fingers, Rose's anticipation grew. What did he have planned? Would he be gentle or rough? Fast or slow? It had been so long since she had been with her husband, he wasn't quite so self-assured or so handsome. Whatever he intended to do, Rose was sure she would enjoy it.

  She held her breath as he dropped the last of her stockings onto the floor and glided his hands down her bare legs. Rose bent her knees, pressing her skin up against his palms. He shifted his hands until they both skimmed her inner thighs, then gently eased them apart.

  "I need you, Rose.” He grabbed her hips and dragged her down to the edge of the mattress. “I want to taste you on my tongue.” He knelt before her. “I want to watch you come in my hands.” He loosened his grip on her hips and slid his fingers over her backside, caressing the lines where her globes connected with her legs.

  She shivered as he shifted his fingers and traced them along her inner thighs. He created a long, sensual trail up her skin; then he repositioned her legs and spread her wider apart.