Tallie's Knight (19 page)

Tallie sighed in
pleasure and leaned over to blow out her bedside candle. Before she could do
so, however, she heard a knock on the door. She sat up in bed, clutching the
down quilt to her chest.

“Who…? Er… qui
est-ce?” she called hesitantly.

“It is I,” said the
deep voice of her husband.

“C-come in.”

Magnus entered,
shutting and locking the door behind him. Tallie pulled the quilt more tightly
around her.

“Was there something
you wanted, my lor —er, Magnus?”

He looked down at her
enigmatically for a moment.

“This is my room,
too.”

Tallie blinked.

“But there’s only one
bed.”

He smiled slowly.

“I know.”

“But…”

“We are married,
Tallie. Married couples share a bed.”

Tallie’s mouth opened
in surprise. It wasn’t true. Her cousin Laetitia had her own bed, and most of
her married visitors had separate chambers, too —Tallie knew because she’d been
the one who had usually arranged the accommodation for guests. The only time
they ever shared a bedchamber was when there were too many people for separate
ones.

Maybe this inn was
crowded too.

“Oh,” she said, and
swallowed.

“I’ll disrobe in
here, shall I?” Magnus entered the small dressing room, pulling the door after
him.

Tallie sat in the
bed, wondering what to do. There was a look in his eye that she had seen before
—in the coach in Dover, when he had kissed her in that extraordinary way.

She’d thought about
the kiss a lot since it had happened. She knew people didn’t usually kiss like
that, with their tongue inside your mouth, and wondered if that was how a man
put a baby inside a woman.

Amanda Forrest had
said her mother said it happened when a man put himself inside a woman, and he
had certainly put himself inside her then. She shivered deliciously,
remembering the bold sweep of his tongue over hers.

Did she have a baby
inside her yet? Probably not, after all that vomiting on the ship, so perhaps
he was going to kiss her in that special way again. She wouldn’t mind it at
all. It had been quite wonderful. She hadn’t felt the need to flinch or
anything, as her cousin had said she would.

The dressing room
door opened and Magnus emerged, dressed in a heavily embroidered dark silk
dressing gown, tied at the waist with a sash. He walked over to the bed and
smiled.

“Move over,” he said
softly, and with a small, nervous smile Tallie wriggled over to her side of the
bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and slowly undid the sash, watching her
all the time. He peeled off the dressing gown and Tallie gasped and averted her
eyes.

He was naked!
Completely naked. No nightshirt at all!

He stood and, naked,
walked a few steps to a chair, over which he neatly draped his dressing gown.
Tallie shot a quick, furtive glance at him. She had never seen a naked man
before. Aside from the powerful muscles across his shoulders and back, and the
long, hairy limbs, men weren’t all that different from women, she decided. They
were just bigger and stronger and hairier. Then he turned, and Tallie’s eyes
almost popped out of her head. There was something very different about men. And
her husband looked nothing like little Georgie in the bath!

Tallie suddenly realised
he’d caught her peeking, and she hurriedly turned her head away, closing her
eyes for good measure. He laughed, and said, “It’s all right to look, you know.”

Tallie didn’t reply.
She lay down in the bed, her eyes shut tight, and felt the bed sag as he
climbed into it. His body was very close to hers —she could feel the warmth
radiating from him, even though he was naked and should be cold.

“Will you blow out
the candle, please?” she said after a moment.

“Not yet,” said a
deep voice beside her ear.

“I think it’s my turn
to look, don’t you?”

Tallie’s eyes flew
open and she clutched the comforter to her chin.

“Y… your turn?” she
quavered.

“My turn,” he
confirmed. “It’s what married people do.” He reached out, gently tugged the comforter
from her nerveless grasp and pushed it down to her lap.

Slowly he began to
unbutton her nightgown… one button… two… three… until it was undone almost to
her waist. She was shaking by the time he’d finished and her eyes were screwed
shut.

“Don’t be frightened,”
he said softly, and began to stroke her cheek.

He moved closer, and
she could feel the solid heat of his body lying all along hers. He bent over
her and kissed her lightly on the mouth, then kissed her again, moving his lips
softly over her, small, tiny kisses, feathering them over her mouth, her
eyelids, her cheeks.

Tallie relaxed a
little.

His hands caressed
her, stroking her cheek, her throat, down her arms, then back up to her throat.
He touched her breasts through the cotton of her nightgown, moving back and forth
in the softest, lightest touch.

Tallie felt a faint
quiver pass through her every time he did so. He kissed her deeply, then
touched his tongue to the hollow at the base of her throat and kissed her
again. Slowly, slowly the kisses moved lower, and she felt the faint abrasion
of his chin as he nudged her nightgown apart.

She felt the moist,
warm trail of his kisses down in the valley between her breasts, then his hand
slipped in and eased her gown aside. He sat up on one elbow for a moment,
staring.

“Beautiful.”

Tallie’s eyes opened
for a fleeting, stunned glance. Beautiful? He thought her beautiful?

He cupped first one
breast then the other, in a warm, strong hand, then rubbed his thumbs gently
back and forth across their tips. Tallie felt them harden, and shivers of
pleasure coursed through her. She watched, trembling, as his dark head bent and
he suddenly buried his face in her breasts and made a low, deep sound in his
throat. She had never before felt so close to another human being. She wanted
to put her arms around him, to cradle his head against her. Her hands rose,
hovered, and then dropped uncertainly.

“Let’s get rid of
this thing,” he said, sitting up. He reached under the bedclothes, took the hem
of her nightgown and began to pull it upwards, over her legs.

Tallie tried to stop
him.

“I… no… But it’s cold…
and this comforter is extremely light.”

“I’ll keep you warm.”
He tugged at the hem. “Lift your bottom.”

Mindful of her
wedding vows, Tallie obeyed, and in seconds she was lying in bed with her husband,
not a stitch of clothing between them.

He pulled the
comforter down and gazed at her body with possessive, heavy-lidded grey eyes
which seemed to burn into her skin. Tallie tried to shield herself from his
stare, but he lifted her hands away, saying, “I am your husband, Tallie. You
don’t have to hide yourself from me.”

He lowered his mouth
to her breast again, and Tallie almost leapt out of her skin as red-hot spears
of pleasure pierced her. He muttered inaudibly, caressing her with hands, mouth
and tongue. Sensations spiralled through her and she found herself shuddering
convulsively.

What magic was he
performing to make her feel this way? She wanted to take his head in her hands
and press him tighter against her breasts, wanted to touch him as he was
touching her. She pressed a small, shy kiss on his hair instead.

He caressed her
softly, tenderly, and so slowly. It was… lovely. At one point he slowed, and
seemed to hesitate, and Tallie opened her eyes. He, too, had his eyes closed.
He was breathing heavily and gritting his teeth. She wondered for a fleeting
second if he was in pain. But she soon forgot that thought because —ohhh. The
feeling of his warm strong hands caressing, smoothing, shaping her body,
learning it. She knew now why some people called this possessing —Magnus was possessing
her. And it was wonderful.

She tentatively laid
her hands on his shoulders and, light as thistledown, stroked his skin. He felt
warm, slightly damp with sweat, and very, very good. His skin smelt of the
cologne water he usually wore, and some darker, musky scent that she knew was
him. He didn’t react, didn’t tell her to stop. Feeling braver, Tallie stroked
the wide muscular shoulders and the crisp dark hair on his arms, exulting in
the feel of his strength. Such a powerful man, and yet so tender with it.

He rubbed his hands
down over her stomach and hips, and the slightly roughened skin of his palms
set up a delicious friction on her soft skin, then dipped between her thighs.
Quivers ran through her, and without conscious volition her legs fell open. He
cupped her between her legs and began small circular motions that soon had her
gasping with excitement. She felt his fingers moving intimately in the folds of
her flesh, and she parted her legs further, writhing in pleasure at the
sensations coursing through her body.

Groaning, he pushed
her legs wider and settled himself between them, his hands stroking, caressing,
probing and teasing, his mouth hot and hard on hers. She felt something hard
and blunt nudging her between her legs, and she stiffened.

He paused, looking
deep into her eyes.

“I don’t want to hurt
you, but the first time, I fear, it is inevitable.”

Suddenly Tallie
recalled her cousin’s instructions. She closed her eyes and grabbed the bottom
sheet tight in her fists. He pushed, and she wanted to wriggle away, but she
remembered the bit about not flinching and braced herself instead. He pushed
harder, groaning, and Tallie gasped. She wondered if it was hurting him as much
as it was hurting her, and then she stopped wondering as a sharp pain lanced through
her and she forced herself to remain motionless.

He hesitated.

“It’s done now,” he
murmured, and caressed her cheek for a second.

Tallie, panting, was
relieved, and waited for him to remove himself, and the thing that was
stretching her and stinging so dreadfully.

Instead he started to
move inside her, moving back and forth, slowly at first and then faster and
faster. His mouth came back over hers, and she realised his tongue was moving
at the same pace, creating those amazing sensations in her again.

She was not hurting
so much now, but still an unbearable feeling of tightness was growing inside
her, until she thought she must burst.

She wanted to writhe
and squirm and scratch, but she knew she could not move, nor flinch or cry out
or otherwise disgrace herself. Or him.

This was her husband,
and she was now truly his wife, and this was what husbands did to get their
wives with child. But, oh —she wanted to take hold of him and hold herself hard
against him while he was doing this to her. But she couldn’t.

She loved him, she
realised suddenly. Against all her expectations she’d fallen in love with this
cold, kind, abrupt, gentle man. She wanted to cry out and cover his face with
kisses, but she owed it to him to lie here without flinching, without crying
out.

He mightn’t love her,
but she wanted him to be proud of her. His movements built to a rapid
crescendo, and she found herself panting shallowly in time with them, feeling
as though something was about to happen… as though she was being swept away by
some tide. She forced herself to lie still. Finally, with a loud,
unintelligible groan, her husband gave one last heavy thrust, arching his body
over her, his head thrown back in pain —or exultation, she wasn’t sure which— and
subsided heavily on top of her. They lay, unmoving, panting, their bodies beginning
to cool.

He was still inside
her, she could feel him, though it was not so uncomfortable now. He lay heavily
on top of her and she could hardly breathe, but Tallie decided she liked the
feeling of being surrounded by his strength and his warmth. His head was buried
in the hollow of her throat. Tentatively she lifted her hand and stroked the
short crisp curls on his head. They were damp. She trailed her fingers down the
side of his neck and across his shoulders. His skin was moist and warm. He
sighed and shuddered under her hand, and then moved away from her. She felt his
withdrawal and felt a momentary sense of loss. The candle was still burning,
and she felt him watching her in the nickering golden light.

He smoothed back a
damp curl from her face.

“Are you all right?”
he asked softly.

She couldn’t look at
him, felt too full of emotion, so she just nodded.

He slipped out of bed
and disappeared into the dressing room. She watched him leave and felt like
bursting into tears. He was going to dress and return to his own room.

He came back, still
naked, carrying a cloth. She wanted to look at him properly, to see exactly how
he was made and how it all worked now that she knew how he felt. But she was
too shy to do more than cast a quick flicker in his direction, then look away.

He came back to the
bed and reached for her thighs.

“Again?” Tallie
jumped, disconcerted.

He smiled ruefully.

“No, not tonight.”

She sat back, relieved,
then stiffened in shock as he parted her thighs and began to wipe her with a
damp cloth. She was sticky and sore there, but for him to be doing such a
thing! Her face burned with embarrassment and she tried to stop him, but he
took no notice.

Finally he finished,
and stood up. She glanced at the cloth and saw to her amazement that there were
streaks of red on it.

Emmaline Pearce had
been right, thought Tallie as her husband moved around inside the dressing
room. All those punishments from Miss Fisher for telling lies —and Emmaline had
been right all along. There was blood, and there certainly could have been
screaming had Laetitia not warned her it was not allowed.

Magnus returned and
slipped into bed beside her, pulling the cover up around them both.