Claiming His Bride (2 page)

Victoria
sat in a tub full of
lavender-tinted water and stared at him with her mouth hanging open. She
immediately drew her legs up to her breasts. “Do you mind?” she said sharply.

“I do. You’re going to catch a cold.” He sat on the edge of
the large claw foot tub and ran his hand through the water. “As lovely as the
fragrance of bath salts is, I can’t believe you’d prefer sitting in tepid water
to coming to bed with me.”

“I certainly didn’t
say
that, did I?” She drew her legs closer though and made no move to rise from
the water.

He pulled the drain from the tub and stood to unfold a large
towel for her.
“Out.
I’ve seen it all by now and will
be getting a much closer look soon, so no need to be shy.”

After a moment, she stood and stepped out of the tub,
turning her back to him and drawing the towel around her. Then he swept her up
into his arms, making her squeal.

“I was hoping for a contented sigh the first time I took you
into my arms.”

She lowered her eyes, her breasts heaving, the nipples
almost peeking out of the towel.

“Stop worrying,
Victoria
.
You aren’t a piece of chattel that was sold off.” He placed a tender kiss on
her forehead. “You’re a treasure that is about to be cherished all night long.”

He swiftly carried her to the bed and placed her in the
middle of it. He turned down the gaslights, leaving only a candle by the bed
lit as he stripped the final pieces of his clothing off.

She watched him, her eyes no longer lowered.

Her curiosity both aroused and pleased him. “Am I less
frightening in the dark?” he asked as he climbed onto the bed, not missing the
way her eyes shyly took in every inch of him.

She looked into his eyes. “I’m not frightened,” she
murmured.

“Then why are you trembling?” He drew the towel down and
trailed kisses over the tops of her breasts. His tongue circled her nipple,
making her sigh as he straddled her.

“I’m cold,” she said, her reply barely audible.

“Good thing I pulled you out of that bath when I did then.”
He parted the towel, kissing his way down her body. She gasped when he kissed
her stomach. He licked her thigh, and she tensed beneath him. He hitched her
leg up and parted the delicate curls to touch her clitoris.

“This is a very special spot, my dear. I’ll be spending a lot
of time here.” He began making slow circles with his finger, briefly dipping it
lower and smiling to find her
quim
wet. As he watched
her reactions, his cock hardened almost to the point of pain, a dull ache of
longing settling in his groin. She stared up at the ceiling, and she seemed to
be struggling to keep her breathing steady, but despite this effort, her
breasts heaved beautifully. He moved up her body to draw one nipple into his
mouth.

She gasped and arched against his hand, her juices coating
his fingers as he drove her higher and higher. He captured her mouth with his,
their first real kiss. This embrace was quite different from the cold brush of
lips she’d offered during the wedding ceremony. She opened to him completely as
her arms moved up his back. She moaned, and he felt her sex quiver as she found
her release. He slowed his movements, cupping her sex and massaging it.

“Oh God,” she cried when he finally broke off the kiss.

“I’d prefer a less exalted pet name, but call me anything
you like, my sweet,” he said as he moved back down her body.

She giggled. “Why are you so serious around everyone else?”
She sat up a little, still catching her breath. “I’ve never seen you act this
way before. You like teasing me. You seem determined to make me laugh.”

“That is not my main focus at this moment though.” He kissed
her stomach and thoroughly enjoyed the way she trembled when his lips brushed
the soft skin.

Her expression sobered, then softened. “I expected you to be
very serious, intense. I suppose I was a little frightened of you at first.”

“And now?”
He met her gaze and held it as his mouth
hovered close to its goal.

She shook her head, giving him a smile before demurely
shifting her gaze.

“Good.” He lowered his head, spreading her nether lips and
tasting her.

She gasped, but then she gave him another delighted moan.

****

Victoria
collapsed back on the
mattress, both shocked and elated. Her sister had told her quite a bit about
sex, more than she’d cared to know at the time, but she’d never expected that a
man would want to do any of those decadent things to her. She felt Bastian’s
tongue sliding in and out of her. His fingers toyed with her as well, spreading
her as he licked. His mouth focused at the top of her sex again, and before
long another orgasm took her. She writhed beneath him, feeling too good to care
what he thought of her.

He moved up her body and kissed her hungrily. She loved the
feel of his hard body against hers. As he nudged her legs apart, she clung to
him more fiercely. He feathered kisses across her face and smoothed her hair,
whispering very tender words, the kind of words a man whispered to a real
bride, not one given as collateral. Tears formed in her eyes.

“Don’t cry, my dear. I won’t hurt you.” The pained look in
his eyes pierced her heart.

“I’m happy,” she whispered. “I expected tonight to be … an
unpleasant duty.”

He kissed the tears away, moving his body against hers. She
felt his shaft running against her sex; he was thick and hard. He continued his
soft kisses as he entered her. She tried to relax when she felt the pain. Soon
it dulled to an ache, and he gently rocked their bodies together. He took her
mouth again, his kisses far more urgent now. To her surprise, she felt the
pleasure build again. Her nipples were tender and very sensitive, and they
ached as they rubbed across his chest. He lifted her left leg and angled down,
the grinding increasing her pleasure.

Finding release with him buried inside her was different, a
mix of pleasure and pain far more intense than her first two orgasms. She
pressed her face into his neck as she moaned.

“Oh,
Victoria
.”
He stilled above her, emptying his seed
inside her. He drew away and looked down at her, and his hand trembled as he
caressed her cheek.

She caught his hand and held it there. “And why are you
trembling?”

He smiled and rolled off of her, drawing her with him so
they both lay on their sides. “Perhaps I’m afraid I’m dreaming.”

She reached out and pinched him.

“Ouch!”

“You aren’t.” She giggled happily, loving the surprised
expression on his face.

“Vixen!”
He pulled her beneath him, tickling her
and making her thrash wildly.

“Vixen?” she said with a faux gasp.

He laughed and soon seized her arms and pinned her against
the bed, finally stilling her.
“My sweet little vixen.”
His mouth descended on hers again, silencing any further protests quite
effectively.

Chapter Two

Bastian snuck out of the room just after dawn and retrieved
a package from the hotel’s safe. The amber necklace had arrived the day before
the wedding, and he’d meant to give it to
Victoria
the night before, but he’d
completely forgotten. It would compliment her hair and eyes perfectly, and now
he could have the pleasure of waking her up to give it to her.

He’d told her he was not in love with her, and for the most
part it was true. But she had always interested him, though she’d been hard to
engage, always willingly slinking back into her sister’s shadow and hardly ever
speaking until she was drawn out. For two weeks, he’d been thinking of
Victoria
constantly. And
his affection for her had grown far more than he’d expected. He’d scoured his
memory for every conversation they’d ever had. They had danced once at her
sixteenth birthday party. He’d escorted her in to dinner twice at Lady
Winterbourne’s house party one Christmas. He’d once sat beside her and an
Oxford
professor at
dinner, listening to her timidly ask questions about a poet named Blake while
the older man had delightedly rambled on for the entire meal, obviously pleased
to have engaged her attention. His most amusing and endearing memory was of her
asking him to escort her to her parents at a party. A little of her fire had
shown that day, as she’d stood from her position on a divan beside her
sister—who had been casting a few vitriolic remarks toward a suitor she had
rejected—and announced that she needed “a change of air.” He’d been lucky to be
the nearest gentleman to her at the time, as her fuming and then her demure
apology and thanks had convinced him completely that she was far superior to
her sister in every way.

He turned to go back up to his room, but someone called to
him.

“Yes?” He turned back to the desk.

“A delivery late last night, my lord.”
The man shuffled away and
came back with a dozen pink roses.
“For the lovely bride.
We thought it ill-advised to disturb you.”

“Thank you.” He took the flowers. “I’m sure she’ll love the
surprise.”

As he made his way up the stairs, his eyes fell on the card.
The outside of the envelope read
To
my heart
.

Bastian paused at the top of the stairs and set the roses
down. He couldn’t imagine her father writing that. The envelope was not sealed,
so he opened it, his curiosity overriding his manners.

I will never forget you.
William
.

“Who the devil is William, and why is he thinking of my wife
enough to declare he shall never forget her?” His incredulity only increased as
he reread the card. “And what sort of idiot would have these delivered to the
honeymoon suite?” It had to be some sort of mistake.

As he glared at the roses, the truth came to him. She had
been such a cheerless bride because she loved someone else. She’d probably been
waiting for her sister to marry so her own lover could make a public
declaration and put his suit to her father. She had been a virgin, that could
not be denied, but he didn’t give a damn about the state of her hymen; he cared
about the state of her heart. She’d certainly enjoyed the give and take of
pleasure in bed, but a willing bed partner was not the same as a loving wife.
And if her heart would always belong to another, what chance did he have of
winning her love one day?

He crumpled the card and tossed it in an ashtray. He almost
disposed of the roses, but then he thought better of it. Someone might notice
or ask about them, and he didn’t want any gossip spreading. There had been
enough of that when the change of bride had come to light. Also, her reaction
might tell him if this man still held her heart. When he’d only been thinking
of eventually winning her true affection, he’d felt quite easy about his
chances. But how would he fare if he had to banish another from her heart
first?

****

Victoria
woke to a sweet scent. She
rolled over and blinked, wondering why the bed felt so cold, but then she saw
Bastian wasn’t beside her.

“Bastian?”

“I’m here.”

His voice startled her a bit. He stood by the window looking
out over the street. When he turned to her, his dark eyes traveled over her
body. Despite the hours they’d spent tangled in each other’s arms, she suddenly
felt shy.

“Good morning,” she said.

He walked over to her slowly. Why didn’t he smile? Had she
done something wrong? Surely he wouldn’t mind her oversleeping after last
night. Did he regret something he had done or said? Then she saw the roses by
the bed.

“Oh, Bastian, my favorite!
How did you know? Who told
you?” She tucked the sheet around her body and moved closer to touch them.
“How beautiful!
I love them.”

He sat on the bed beside her, his hand in his jacket pocket.
“Lucky guess, my dear. Are pink roses truly your favorite?”

“Oh yes. When we were little, father would bring Isabella
and me pink roses when he came home from long trips. I’ve adored them ever
since.” She turned back to him. He had finally smiled, but something did not
ring true with her. Why did his eyes look sad? Was he tired? “Did you sleep
well?”

“I slept quite well, thank you.” He studied her face a long
moment. “Did you?”

She nodded. “I was exhausted. I slept very deeply.”

His eyes warmed briefly, as if he were remembering the part
he had played in exhausting her, but then he seemed to draw back. He finally
took his hand from his pocket, producing a small black box. “I meant to give
this to you last night, but I forgot.”