Love Be Mine (The Louisiana Ladies Series, Book 3) (20 page)

In spite of his displeasure and anger at the way she had tricked him into marriage, he saw no point in making their marriage bed a battleground. He wanted this first joining to be as pleasurable for her as he could make it. He knew, though he would try hard not to, that he would probably give her pain. That was inevitable, but if he could give her some pleasurable moments, too... He half smiled to himself. If he gave her pleasure, might he engender a liking for the act? Arouse within her an eagerness, a delight in their marriage bed?

Just the idea of Micaela ardently responding to his lovemaking made the ache between his thighs more insistent. Finally unable to control the urge to taste her, his mouth found her once more, this time, his lips demanding entrance. A shocked exclamation came from Micaela, and she stiffened when his tongue surged into her mouth. Instinctively her hands came up to push him away, but he said softly, "No. You must let me, sweetheart." His voice thickened. "Let me teach you, show you...."

Mindful of
Tante
Marie's warnings and her mother's words about the "things" he would do to her, when his mouth took hers again and he deepened the kiss once more, she did not push him away. Instead, to her amazement, as his tongue probed and explored, her breathing quickened, her nipples tingled, and hot, honeyed heat flared between her legs. He tasted of the brandy he had drunk earlier, and she found that oddly exciting, but not nearly as exciting as the sensation of his tongue brushing erotically against hers. Her whole body reacted wildly to his intimate kisses, her nipples now burning and throbbing, the heat between her legs streaking through her entire body. As he continued to drink deeply of her, Micaela trembled with the force of the emotions he roused within her.

She was hardly aware of her hands clenching and unclenching like a kitten's contented kneading on his shoulders, hardly conscious of the inviting arch of her body against him. But Hugh was,
very.
Her unexpected response was so open, so generous, so damned arousing, that only by the greatest of restraint was he able to prevent himself from jerking up her nightgown and taking what he most desperately wanted.

He knew that his hold on his own passion was tenuous, her reactions to his kisses making it more difficult to control his own responses. He fought against the base commands of his body. Everything within him demanded that he seek satisfaction, but with a groan, half-pained, half-delighted, he ignored his coarser feelings. But her gown, that damned concealing garment, was going to have to go.

The thought had barely flitted through his mind before his hands were already on the offending gown, his fingers tugging impatiently at the ribbons at the neck. The garment had been conceived with easy removal in mind, and before Micaela understood what he was doing, she was half-lifted against him and her gown jerked unceremoniously over her head. Hugh might be attempting to proceed slowly, but there were limits to what a man could endure.

"Monsieur!"
Micaela exclaimed, assailed by amazement at finding herself naked and held firmly against an equally naked male body. A riot of new sensations exploded through her and she trembled, half-frightened, half-exhilarated.

Wherever they touched, his flesh was hot against hers, the thick mat of black hair on his broad chest cushioning her bosom, making her nipples swell to hard, little aching buds; the disturbing heat lower in her body bursting into a pulsating wildfire, only increased the dazed pleasure flooding her.

Hugh thought he would go mad at the feel of her nipples burning into his chest, the silky warmth of her skin beneath his hands every erotic delight he had ever imagined and more. But feeling her tremble, he brushed his lips across hers and said shakily, "Do not be frightened, my love. I will not hurt you." He bit his lips, knowing that was not precisely true. "Not more than necessary," he added gruffly. "I will try to be gentle."

Her voice full of awe, she said, "I am not frightened,
Monsieur
—it is, oh, so very exciting,
oui?"

Hugh groaned, wondering if she realized what her words were doing to him. Unable to help himself, he pushed her down into the mattress. Half-lying on her, his chest crushed against hers, one leg nudging between her thighs, he kissed her passionately.

Micaela was aware of him in every fiber of her being, his scent was in her nostrils, his taste upon her tongue, and the feel of his naked flesh pressing intimately against her own was astoundingly sweet. Filled with giddy emotion, unabashedly eager to learn more of the "things" he would do to her, her arms closed around him. Later she would be shocked at her actions. Later she would be ashamed at her forwardness and recall
Tante
Marie's advice. Much, much later she would be embarrassed at what was happening, but not now, oh, definitely not now.

Yet when Hugh's hand touched her breast, cupped it, his thumb rubbing across her nipple, she couldn't help crying out.
"Monsieur!
What are you doing?"

A thread of laughter lacing through the passion, Hugh murmured, "I am making love to my wife... and do you not think that it is time you called me by my given name?" He kissed her soundly and said, "Can you not bring yourself to call me Hugh? It would please me to hear my name upon your lips."

The sensations that were streaking through her as he continued to pull and tug at her nipple made it hard to think, but she got out breathlessly, "Very well,
M-m—
H-h-hugh."

Hugh's head dipped and Micaela arched up uncontrollably as his mouth closed around her nipple. The gentle scrape of his teeth made her gasp and clutch at him. Whether she meant to push him away or pull him to her, she never knew. The sensations were so intense, so sweet, that she floated dazedly, aching and yearning for something she could not name.

To her dizzying delight, he toyed with her breasts for some time, stroking them, shaping them to his liking. The only sound in the room was their heavy breathing and the little moans she unknowingly made as Hugh lured her deeper into the sensual maze he was weaving about her, about them both. Her reactions to his caresses and kisses, the sounds which came from deep in her throat, were every bit as exciting to Hugh as her actions were to him.

The gnawing hunger to take her, to finally ease his aching flesh into hers, was unbearable. In the weeks preceding their marriage, he had found himself going about half-erect, the knowledge that one night soon he would be lying abed with her never far from his mind. To be touching her as he was now, to feel the firm, silken weight of her breasts in his hands, to nuzzle and suckle at those same sweet breasts was an intoxicating, lingering torture, but a torture he did not want to end, even as his body demanded he find satisfaction.

Gripped by his own passion, his hand slid from her breast, down the narrow rib cage, across the silken expanse of her belly, to the patch of tight curly hair at the junction of her thighs. Unerringly his seeking fingers parted the soft folds, petting and stroking, exploring and learning her.

Micaela gasped and jerked at his touch, embarrassment and a burst of indecent pleasure inundating her. Instinctively, she clamped her thighs together and grabbed his hand. "Please. Oh, please, stop."

Hugh stilled, his mouth pressed against the wildly fluttering pulse in her throat. He muttered, "What is it? Did I hurt you?"

In a voice which shook, she said,
"Non.
It is not that! I am afraid. It is as if my body is not mine any longer. You are making me feel things—wicked things I am sure no decent woman should feel. It is too shocking and shameful what you are doing to me."

Micaela felt his lips twitch in a smile against her throat. "Sweetheart," he said gently, "what I am doing to you is the most natural thing in the world. There is nothing shocking or the least shameful about it. It is a glorious thing, what our bodies can share." His voice deepened. "What we are doing is what men have been doing to women since time began." His lips slid down to her breast and he nipped lightly. "And what women have been doing to men...."

To her horror and utterly wanton pleasure, he reached for her hand and put it on him. Carefully he wrapped her trembling fingers around the solid length of himself, and a shudder went through him at her warm clasp. Slowly he taught her the motion which pleased him, another shudder racking him at her quick skill. In a breathless tone he said, "You see? When you touch me, I feel those same wicked things... only they are not really wicked, are they?" Deliberately, his fingers sought the warmth between her legs and stroked her. "No, not wicked," he said thickly, "but glorious and oh so sweet...."

Micaela's reply was lost as his mouth crushed hers, his fingers parting her and sinking deeply within her. She twisted up against him, her own fingers clenching around him, tearing a groan, half pain, half pleasure from Hugh. "Gently," he murmured. "Gently."

Certain he had never experienced such agonizingly sweet desire, Hugh's lips found Micaela's once more and he showed her the pleasure which could be found in another's caress. But the leash upon his hunger was badly frayed, and with a muffled imprecation, he suddenly stopped her inflaming ministrations. Capturing her wrist, he dragged it above her head. "No," he gasped. "No more."

Bewildered, Micaela stared up at him in the darkness, wishing erratically that she had not had him blow out the candles. She wanted to see him. See the long, naked length of him. See what that hot length of silken steel she had been caressing really looked like. More stunningly, she wanted him to see her....

The warnings from
Tante
Marie stabbed through her, and, wondering if the Devil had possessed her, Micaela felt her face flame with mortification. She was confused. Frightened and yet not frightened. To her embarrassment, she was oddly unembarrassed by what they were doing. She
liked
what they were doing. Giddy excitement welled up inside her as Hugh kissed her and explored her body. She had felt bold and yet wildly thrilled when he had let her touch him. She wanted to touch him again, to feel him shudder and know that he was feeling all the same wild sensations which sang through her.

But Hugh had been pushed to his limit, and he suddenly grasped her thighs and parted them, his big body fitting snugly between them. For a moment he simply lay there, savoring the heat of her body, the scent of their passion and the press of her warm thighs against his hips. Then his mouth found hers, his hands slid beneath her, lifting her as he began to carefully push his aching staff inside of her.

Micaela's breath was lodged somewhere in her chest, her blood thundering in her veins as he slowly, sweetly made them one. There was pain, but she was so assaulted by all the new sensations and emotions exploding through her body that she paid it little heed. She was a wife! she thought with a burst of simple pride. A true wife. And then Hugh began to move on her, thrusting deeper and deeper within her, widening her, making her completely his, and she forgot everything but the rapture of this moment.

Burning within her, Hugh shuddered, the tight, clinging heat of her silken sheath giving him the most erotic bliss he had ever experienced in his life. And when he stroked deeper the leash on his control snapped and he drove into her again and again as he strained to find sweet relief from the carnal urges which assailed him. He had thought that nothing could compare to the pleasure he had first experienced as their bodies had become one, but he discovered that he had deluded himself, that the bliss only intensified, intensified so powerfully that he could not bear it a second longer. Clutching her even tighter to him, he jerked and trembled as ecstasy swept him away.

They remained locked together for several moments, Hugh able now to kiss her with lazy relish, the frantic motions of his body lessening. Regretfully, he finally slid from her soft flesh. Lying beside her, remembering that at the last he had lost all restraint, he pulled her next to him, and asked quietly, "Did I hurt you very much?"

Unbearably aware of him, of their nakedness and of what they had just done, Micaela said shyly, "Only a little."

Unexpectedly moved by those words, Hugh kissed her gently and muttered, "I promise you it shall never hurt again and next time... next time I shall try to give you more pleasure."

Feeling sophisticated and blasé now that the act was over, Micaela murmured, "It was very nice what we did together,
oui?"

"Nice!"
he replied in stunned, outraged tones, remembering vividly the scalding ecstasy that had been his. He had never experienced that sort of utter fulfillment before in his life. It was mortifying to realize that for all his care and restraint, for her, their joining had not even begun to approach the level of ecstasy which he had reached. Reminding himself that she had been an innocent made him feel better and lessened some of his outrage. Nice! he thought wryly. His bride thought his lovemaking was nice! What a dismal reflection on his skills as a lover. He supposed, that he should be pleased with the outcome. She did not fear him and had not found the act distasteful or terrifying, at least he could take comfort in
that!
A feral smile crossed his face. He could not undo tonight, but in time, he vowed, in time she would share with him that same blinding ecstasy and would never, ever, again refer to their lovemaking as
nice!

Unaware of the chagrin she had aroused in her husband's breast, Micaela yawned, and asked drowsily, "Is there anything else that we have to do?"

"No," he said, thinking of several other things he would show and teach her in the coming days, "there is nothing else, sweetheart. Go to sleep."