My Darling Caroline (18 page)

Brushing his lips against hers, he pulled back a little, fighting the strain, one hand on her forehead, the other gently kneading her, holding her.

Caroline remained oblivious to everything but the desire to feel him. She rotated her hips to better touch him, aching for completion, moving her legs up and back so the inside of her thighs rubbed against the outside of his. That drove him wild, for he gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, breathing heavily and hard as he willed himself to stay in control.

She placed her palm on his chest, feeling the strong, quick pounding of his heart. He waited a second longer, then adjusted his hips and tried once more to enter her, a third time, forcing himself slightly deeper, and finally it hurt too much.

“Brent—”

She cringed as her body automatically became rigid, and with that, something seemed to happen to him. Slowly he raised himself to look down at her face. His eyes hid in shadows, but his features had softened, and after several seconds of unsureness, she almost feared he’d changed his mind about taking her because she was such a tight fit.

“Please don’t stop,” she begged in a whisper. “I don’t care if it hurts a little.”

Deathly silence filled the air, until full comprehension pervaded his mind.

“Oh, Caroline…” he whispered through a sigh both staggered and pained with softness. “You’ve never done this, have you?”

She couldn’t believe he’d ask her something like that as they lay in bed together, nearly joined, that he wouldn’t know from her obvious inexperience and apprehension, and her stunned expression must have told him so.

“Oh, Jesus,” he mumbled, his voice and face conveying a mixture of disbelief and wonder.

She gazed at the confusion on his brow, watched his face as he struggled inside from the revelation. She put her fingers to his mouth, tracing his lips with the tips, and he started kissing them, slowly at first, then earnestly, taking one into his mouth to gently suck, causing her to cry out from sharp plea sure.

His hand began caressing her breast again as well, and within seconds desire returned in full force. He kissed her palm, then lowered his head to kiss her forehead and lashes, her cheeks and neck.

Something had changed in him, she could sense it, but a short moment later she was beyond caring. He moved his hand between her legs once more, stroking her gently until she could feel nothing else, until her hips arched, her heart pounded in her chest, her breathing became erratic. Then he raised himself once again, placed his free hand on her cheek, and rested his forehead against hers.

“Hold me,” he urged softly, his hard form towering over her, his shaft poised once again at the entrance between her legs.

She nodded and grasped his shoulders. Then as quickly as he fully covered her mouth with his, he tensed his body and drove himself inside of her, filling her deeply, completely.

Her nails dug into his skin, her back arched, and she gasped sharply against his lips. Her eyes filled with tears, trickling down the side of her face, and he kissed her tenderly, sweetly, running his thumb along her cheek to wipe them away.

He kept himself quite still, except for the gentle prodding of his kiss, and after only seconds the pain inside and between her legs began to dissipate. She inhaled as deeply as she could to relax, and as he felt the anxiety drain from her, he moved his hand to her breast, lightly stroking the tip with his thumb, squeezing her nipple, running the back of his hand underneath her fullness, kneading softly, cupping her and caressing her with his palm. She squirmed a little, almost restlessly as the pleasure began to build, wondering what she was supposed to do, and that’s when she felt him start to move inside of her.

He deepened his kiss, flicking his tongue across her lips, then plunging it fully into her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and with an inherent drive as old as time, she began to move her hips in rhythm with his.

He groaned, his breathing shallow once more as he quickened the pace. She followed, allowing herself to be led by the unknown, the magic, whimpering in response to his touch, keeping her eyes tightly shut to his kiss, to the marvelous and new sensations in the center of her being as they began to expand and grow toward the light like rose petals in morning sunshine.

Suddenly he broke his lips from hers and lowered his mouth to her nipple, sucking, licking, kissing, teasing, then moving to the other for more of the same. She leaned into the pillow, wrapping her legs around his thighs to hold him closer, weaving her fingers through his hair.

He began circling his hips, changing the rhythm, and slowly she felt him lift his head, his body, to hold himself directly over her.

She licked her lips, feeling drugged by desire and more sensual than she’d ever felt in her life. With extreme difficulty, her lids sluggish and heavy, she opened her eyes to find him studying her intently, his expression serious, focused. He supported himself with one hand, and with the other he caressed her chest, her neck, and then her cheek in soft, sensuous strokes.

She pushed up against him instinctively, harder, faster, forcefully, meeting each thrust with her own, aching for a release to the torment, moaning softly, holding his head with her fingers in his hair, biting her lip, staring into his grave, dark eyes, wanting desperately to unlock the secret of what he was giving her. Then in the furthest recesses of her mind, she heard his voice.

“Let it happen, my sweet wife…”

Suddenly she discovered the treasure. In all its splendor and beauty, the pleasure enveloped her from the inside and shattered outward in a rush of brilliance, forcing her to cry out, to clutch him, to squeeze her eyes shut to the ecstasy that filled every nerve and cascaded over every pinpoint of her body.

“You belong to me,” he said softly, watching her face as he traced his thumb along her lips. Then he leaned over her, kissed her cheek, and once more whispered into her ear, “You belong to me.”

With that, she cradled her head in his neck, allowing her breathing to slow as she floated back to reality, feeling the bliss subside to peacefulness, and knowing she might break down from the sweetness of his words, the tenderness in his voice.

Slowly he leaned up once more to look at her, supporting himself with one hand on the bed while he caressed her neck and breasts with the other. He reached down, straightened her hips under his, and began the rocking motion again, gradually building the heat to a fever once more.

It was his turn, she knew, and within seconds he was on fire; she could see the strain on his face, the tautness in his muscled chest. He closed his eyes tightly to relish in the feel, kneading her breast, slowing gliding in and out of her, moving faster and deeper with each penetration.

Caroline watched him, mesmerized, absorbing the warmth of his hard, masculine form, knowing he was seconds away from realizing the same wonderful gift he’d just given her. More than anything, she wanted to be part of it.

Reaching for his hand, she pulled it from her breast, kissed his palm, and held it against her cheek. With the other she touched his face.

“You’re so beautiful…” she sensually whispered.

At the sound of her voice, he slowed his actions, prolonging the fulfillment, pulling back gently so the tip of him rested just inside of her. He held himself still for several long seconds, straining, breathing heavily, teeth clenched, grasping for control, then he opened his eyes.

The look on her face shattered him.

“Oh, God…” he murmured tenderly, brokenly, his expression slowly becoming one of enlightenment and awe. “Caroline—”

She placed her fingertips on his lips to silence him, her throat tightening with emotion as she held his fervent gaze, a witness to the feelings that matched her own.

She took his hand from her cheek and tightly intertwined their fingers. “I know. It’s wonderful.”

He drew a shaky breath, then once again entered her, gently, watching her face closely, fully embedding himself inside her and holding completely still.

She looked deeply into his eyes for what seemed an eternity; then she wrapped her legs even tighter around his and started moving her hips beneath him, slowly and deliberately.

“Caroline…”

“Give yourself to me,” she whispered urgently, passionately, quickening her movements. “Give yourself to me.”

Suddenly his expression changed, and his eyes widened. “Oh, God, oh God—”

And then he was there, plunging into her forcefully, over and over, his eyes squeezing shut, head falling back, hand clinging to hers as if it were a lifeline. She met every thrust with her hips, clutching his thighs with her own, unsure but wanting desperately to prolong the ecstasy he was finding with her, because of her, inside of her.

His breathing remained hard and shallow as he dropped his head, collapsing on top of her, then wrapping his arms around her and hugging her close. Never in her life had she expected such contentment, such incomparable warmth from the intimacy of a marital union, and she cherished it with more reverence than she did even her fine lavender roses. Her husband meant more to her now than all of that.

Snuggling into him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You belong to me, too,” she whispered into his ear.

He kissed her cheek and jaw, ran his fingers through her long hair flowing over the pillows.

For a long time they did nothing but listen to the crackle of the dying fire, caressing each other. Finally he moved, sliding out of her carefully. But instead of adjusting himself to hold her as she expected him to do, he turned to the edge of the bed and sat up.

“Why are you leaving?” she timidly asked.

He looked back to her, surprised, then smiled in understanding. “I’m not leaving you, Caroline. I’m going to stoke the fire, light some candles so I can have a decent look at my new wife lying naked in my bed, and then I’m going to wash you where I hurt you.”

That satisfied her until the meaning of his words seeped in. “I can wash myself, I’m sure,” she countered softly, starting to rise.

He leaned back and grabbed her ankle. “You’re not going anywhere, and you cannot continue to be embarrassed or afraid for me to see or touch you.” He released her and stood. “I’ll be doing both for years to come.”

She forced herself to relax, watching her husband move about the room, adding logs to the fire and lighting candles by the bedside. Then he poured water from a pitcher into a bowl, placed a face cloth inside and walked back to her.

She stared at his naked form, marveling at his physique.

“What are you thinking?” he quietly asked, pulling the quilt from her body and sitting beside her.

She shivered from the sudden chill, but sat up a little and leaned back on a pillow, supporting herself against the large mahogany headboard, never taking her eyes from his face. “I was wondering why God gave you to me.”

That startled him for the smallest second, then he smiled, placed the bowl on the table next to the bed, and wrung out the cloth. “To satisfy you perhaps?”

She giggled adorably, face flushing as she boldly disclosed, “And what a marvelous job you did of that.”

She could positively see the prideful grin of male arrogance on his face as he leaned over to touch her, carefully spreading her thighs with his hand.

Reluctantly she widened her legs and glanced down. “You made me bleed.”

He held the cloth in his hand for a moment to warm it, then began cleaning her gently. “Most virgins do, Caroline. I only wish you’d told me first.”

“I shouldn’t have had to,” she quickly retorted.

His eyes shot up to lock with hers. “I would have never considered otherwise, little wife, but you purposely led me to believe—”

“As you did about having a child,” she interjected smoothly. “We’re even.”

He evidently had nothing to say to that, and after a minute of staring at her speculatively, he returned to washing her.

“Why didn’t you want to become my wife?”

That caught her off guard, stinging her deeply. She’d hurt him already with her secrets, but revealing this truth would be devastating. So instead, with a suddenly dry mouth, she acknowledged the obvious. “I did, but I was scared. And even as attractive as you are, you’re hardly the type to romantically seduce a terrified virgin.”

He raised his eyes to her face once more, cautiously, considering her words. “If there is a God, Caroline, I’m certain he gave you to me to fill my life with aggravation.” In a rich, teasing voice, he added, “And tremendous physical discomfort from waiting to make you mine.”

She huffed and leaned toward him. “I hope the wait was worth the pain.”

He dropped his head and kissed her thigh. Once. Then several times, up and down, until he came so close to the part he was cleaning that she lightly tapped his head. “I’m sure you shouldn’t be kissing me there.”

Slowly he looked up and grinned lasciviously. “You won’t say that after the first time I do, Caroline. You’ll beg me for it so often my mouth and tongue will constantly ache from exhaustion.”

She gaped at him, blushing furiously, and that made him smile broadly, almost pompously as he returned to cleaning her gently.

“Now I know,” she said blandly.

“Know what?”

“God gave you to me by mistake.”

He chuckled at that, then after a moment raised a brow and looked at her quizzically. “You believe in God, Caroline?”

Who didn’t believe in God? “Of course I do.” She hesitated. “Don’t you?”

His features went slack as he placed the cloth once again in the bowl and leaned casually back on the bed at her feet to regard her. Sighing softly, he replied, “If God exists, I’ve never seen him.”

Her forehead crinkled into tiny lines of confusion. “How could you not see God? He saved your life in the war, he gave you Rosalyn—”

“
I
saved my life,” he cut in, “and Rosalyn sprang from my loins. The world would be a simpler, happier place if each individual took actions for himself rather than blaming them on an unseen God who heaves his wrath upon the people of the earth.”

She stared at him in contemplation. Then, lowering her voice and peering into his eyes, she said huskily, passionately, “I
know
there is a God because I see his beauty every day, in a rainbow, in Rosalyn, and even in you, you idiot man. But regardless of that, I could never doubt God’s existence because I know that nothing but God could create something as beautiful as a peach-colored rose.”