Cheryl Holt (26 page)

She gulped with trepidation. “Do you think you ought?”

“Absolutely.” He nibbled across a patch of exposed skin. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not.”

“It’s more pleasant if we take off our clothes.”

“Will you . . .” Not having the vocabulary for salacious discussion, she blushed bright red.

“Yes, I’ll take off mine, too, and we’ll snuggle.”

“I’d like that.”

“So would I.”

He continued till she was attired only in her chemise, and he paused to assess her, admiring how curvaceous she was. He cradled her to him, and he could peer over her shoulder, could see her shapely breasts, the nipples puckered against the fabric.

“You’re very beautiful, Rebecca.”
Too beautiful
, he thought. He couldn’t let himself be captivated by her! He had to keep his distance, had to be about his business and conclude it as rapidly as possible.

“Do you mean it?” she shyly asked.

“Oh yes.” He lifted the covers. “Lie down for me.”

Without a fuss, she complied. He gazed down at her, much more enticed than he should have been by how grand it was to have her in his bed.

“We’ll simply kiss and cuddle,” he explained as he drew his shirt over his head. “It will feel marvelous.”

“You have hair on your chest,” she noted, sounding surprised.

“Most men do.”

He’d never made love to a virgin before, and he was charmed by her comment, His sexual partners had always been lonely, desperate women, so her innocence was refreshing.

He gripped her wrist and rested her palm on his chest, demonstrating how she should rub in slow circles. “You can touch me—whenever and however you like. I enjoy it.”

She smiled. “It’s so soft. It tickles.”

“There are many differences between us, more intimate ones.” He started unbuttoning his trousers. “Close your eyes.”

She obeyed, her lashes drifting down. She appeared so young, so pristine, and he hesitated, his dormant conscience stirring to life.

How could he do this to her?
Why
would he do this to her? In the prior decade, he’d endured many torments, but none of them were her fault. Why was he blaming her? Why vent his anger on her? Once, he’d have mustered some restraint, but time and circumstance had altered him into a bitter, resentful person.

He pushed any scruples away, jerked off his boots and pants; then he slipped under the blankets. His naked body connected to hers all the way down, just her thin chemise separating them.

“May I open my eyes now?” she queried.

He chuckled. “Yes.”

“I wanted to see what you look like. Why wouldn’t you let me watch?”

“You’ll have plenty of chances.”

He was in no hurry to have her discover the flogging scars on his back. He wasn’t sure who she presumed him to be, but an ordinary fellow wouldn’t have such disfiguring marks, and he was determined to maintain a pretense with her for as long as he could.

He urged her nearer, their loins pressed together, and a savage, dangerous desire swept over him. He yearned
to jump on her like a wild beast, to take and take and take until she had nothing left to give.

The ferocity of his need scared him, had him wondering of what recklessness he might be capable, and he breathed deeply to calm himself. He was a ruthless bastard, but he wasn’t so despicable that he’d ruin her initial carnal encounter.

He began kissing her, and she eagerly participated. She relaxed, and he draped a leg over her thigh, pinning her to him, as he worked her chemise down and off. Eventually, she was as naked as he, but she was so absorbed that she scarcely noticed.

He stroked and petted, whispering words of support, and finally, he was massaging her breast, fondling the plump mound, and squeezing the nipple. She was extremely sensitive and reacted to his slightest manipulation.

“Oh my!” she murmured. “That feels very good.”

“It gets better.”

“How could it?”

“Let me show you.”

He rolled onto her, and he blazed a trail down her bosom to suck a nipple into his mouth. He toyed and played, as she writhed beneath him, each fidget wreaking havoc with his cock. He was so anxious to be inside her!

“Your skin is so warm,” she said. “I didn’t know it would be like this.”

“I told you it keeps getting better.”

“I didn’t believe you.”

“Scamp.”

“I heard some women gossiping once. They claimed this would hurt.”

“They were wrong.” It was a small fib, but it reassured her.

She gazed at him in an adoring fashion, as if he’d hung the moon, and his silly heart skipped a beat. He caught himself thinking how fabulous it would be if she really were his wife, and the fact that he was pondering such a foolish notion had him worried.

He was aware of how sex encouraged emotions that had no correlation with the physical act, and he had to remember his purpose. He was hoping to taunt Alex Marshall, to repay the earl—in at least a minor way—for the agony he and his friends had imposed on James’s family.

Any affection he had for Rebecca was idiotic, and he had to be cautious lest he develop a fondness for her. Come the dawn, she’d be in a carriage that would deliver her to Marshall’s house.

He commenced the spiral again, until she was riveted in the experience; then his hand glided down, across her stomach, her abdomen, to her crotch. He cupped her, then eased a finger into her.

She arched up. “What are you doing?”

“I’m touching you in a special manner—as a man touches his wife.”

“Are you positive this is what married couples do?”

“Completely positive.”

He caressed in a lazy rhythm, and her hips instantly adopted the tempo. Very quickly, she grew agitated.

“What’s happening to me?” she panted.

“It’s pleasure, darling. Let it carry you away.”

With scant effort, he sent her hurling into the inferno. She embraced the sensation, wallowing in it, and he grinned. He was thrilled by her lusty nature, by how she’d gifted him with such a private piece of herself.

As her orgasm waned, he settled himself between her
legs, his phallus at her center. She was so wet, so ready, that it wouldn’t take much to commit the ultimate sin against her.

Her mouth was curved in a fetching moue of amazement and delight. “Was that the secret of the marital bed?”

“One of them.”

“Can we do it again?”

“As often as you like.”

“You’ll kill me with ecstasy.”

“I don’t suppose anyone’s died from it—yet!”

She rippled with laughter; then, as she noted his serious expression, she sobered. He widened her thighs and wedged himself in, and she squirmed with fear, trying to dislodge him, but he held her in place. His anatomy was screaming to proceed, and it was all he could do to keep from ramming into her like a sledgehammer.

“It’s my turn now,” he advised her.

“For what?”

“We’ll join our bodies. Here.” He stroked her sheath.

“I don’t understand.”

“You will.” He pushed in a tad farther.

“This doesn’t feel right.”

“It will.”

“James, I’m afraid.”

“Hush,” he soothed. “You’re frightened because you’ve never done it before.”

“It’s not as I envisioned it would be.”

“I know, but you trust me, don’t you?”

“With my life.”

The comment rattled him, had him questioning his motives and hating himself for who he’d become, but he
shoved away the disturbing reflection. He refused to second-guess, to doubt or admonish. He was who he was.

“Put your arms around me.”

“Like that?”

“Yes, exactly like that.” He buried his face at her nape, as he increased the pressure, flexing, flexing again.

“James!”

He burst through, his cock sliding in all the way. She was so tight, so hot, the rush of her woman’s blood goading some primal portion of his being that had him frantic to mate. It took every ounce of fortitude he possessed not to spill himself then and there.

She was rigid with tension, and she gave a cry of alarm, her fingernails digging into his skin.

“You said it wouldn’t hurt,” she accused.

“That was the worst of it.”

“Am I. . . am I. . . still a virgin?”

“No.”

“Do I look different?”

“Only prettier.”

He couldn’t delay, couldn’t chat. His torso was quaking with restraint, begging him to finish.

“Let’s be done with it,” he murmured.

He was too near the edge, too aroused, and he had to continue. He gritted his teeth and slowed, being as gentle as he could, but he was overwhelmed by how remarkable he felt. They shared an affinity, so he’d never had to feign interest or desire. She simply called to him on a physical plane as few other women ever would.

With hardly any endeavor on his part, his seed gushed to the tip, and an unusual elation billowed
through him as he emptied himself in her womb. He’d intended to pull out, but at the last, he couldn’t resist, and he was stunned by his stupidity.

He was to have deflowered her, then sent her away. The prospect of a babe had never entered into his plans.

Was he mad? What if he’d gotten her pregnant? If there was a chance she was carrying his child, how could he let her go?

He rocked himself to a halt, and he was so satisfied, so very, very pleased.

After such a long, long journey, I’ve finally come home
. . .

The peculiar thought slithered through his mind, and he frowned, curious as to why he was so maudlin. He was acting every bit as emotional as an untried female. What was wrong with him?

He retreated from her and dared to ask, “Was it awful for you?”

“No. It was very sweet.”

“There at the beginning, I couldn’t help but cause you pain. Women are created so that it’s uncomfortable the first time. From now on, it won’t bother you, at all.”

“Good.” She traced a finger across his lips, and his heart lurched with more of the same joy that kept popping up when he least expected it.

“We’re united,” she said, “before God, aren’t we?”

“I imagine we are.”

“Even if we never spoke any vows, we’re
one flesh
. This is what the Bible means, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve always wondered.” She snuggled herself closer. “Don’t ever leave me. Promise me that you won’t. I couldn’t bear it.”

“I won’t,” he lied, and he rolled onto his back.

Her cheek rested on his chest, her palm on his tummy, her torso half-draped across his. It was the most precious interlude of his life, and he stared at the ceiling, never wanting it to end.

What the hell was he going to do?

  17  

“He’s here,” Suzette hissed. “Hurry up.”

“Arrogant sod,” Peg grumbled. “Why can’t he make up his mind?”

“I’ve almost got him,” Suzette explained. “He’s marrying a rich cousin in a few weeks, so we’re off today to tour the house he’s buying me.”

“He’d better come up to snuff,” Peg protested. “I’m tired of this.”

“Then let’s give him a show. Convince him I’m worth the price, eh?”

It was mid-morning, and an hour when she hated to be awake, so she was cranky and out-of-sorts, but duty called. He’d sent an urgent note, needing to speak with her, so she’d advised him to stop by the theater. There was no way in hell she’d have met him at her apartment. She wasn’t about to have him learn her address, for she couldn’t bear to have the annoying boor loitering on her stoop.

She stepped into her sister’s arms, and they began to
kiss, tongues in mouths, hands on breasts. They’d already shed their camisoles, so they were half-naked. Out in the hall, she could hear Nick approaching, could feel his hungry gaze as he leered like a reprobate through the crack in the door.

Peg nibbled down to suck on her nipples, and Suzette moaned and writhed, displaying an exaggerated amount of carnal ecstasy. After witnessing a few more of their indecent exhibitions, Nick would realize that he enjoyed observing her with Peg, and he would let Peg live with Suzette so that the three of them could fornicate together. How could he spurn the chance for a regular
ménage à trois
? It simply wasn’t in the male nature to forgo the naughty pleasure.