This Heart of Mine (29 page)

Her heart was hammering wildly as she sat stiffly in the bed, next to him. She wasn’t sure she was even breathing. There was a fluttery feeling of anticipation in her stomach, and yet she was also afraid. She desperately wished now that her mother had not believed her to be too young to discuss the marriage bed before
Skye had left for India. Velvet didn’t know what to do, or even if she should do anything, and she felt like a perfect fool. Her fingers clutching the bedcovers were white with her tension.

“Lower the bedclothes, Velvet.” Alex’s voice in the heavy silence startled her and she jumped. Gently he broke her death grip on the sheets and the coverlet, and her hands fell into her lap. She stared straight ahead, for she was terrified of looking at him.

Alex felt his breath catch in his throat. That one time all those long weeks ago that he had caressed her lovely body had not prepared him for such perfection. Free of any restraints, her beautiful young breasts sprang forth, as smooth and as round and as firm as young apples. Her skin was smooth in texture and creamy in color.

Velvet felt herself blushing again under his warm gaze. She wished he would hurry and do whatever it was he was going to do, and then leave her be. But when Alex reached out to caress one of her breasts, she was unable to restrain the little cry of fear that struggled from her tight throat as she tried to push his hand away.

“No, sweetheart,” he said softly, “don’t, for I love ye.”

“I am so afraid,” Velvet whispered.

He knew what that admission must have cost her. “Why are ye afraid, lovey? Ye know I won’t hurt ye.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” she said miserably.

Laughter bubbled up in his throat. “Do? God’s blood, Velvet, the marriage bed is nae a performance.”

“Don’t you dare to laugh at me, Alex Gordon!” she cried. “From the moment I first heard your name, all I have been told is that you must breed sons quickly to protect your damned direct line of descent. Well, my mother has been gone from me for over two years, and she did not think me old enough before she left to discuss adult things with me. I know nothing of how sons are bred up, you arrogant ass! I asked Lord Bothwell earlier, but he told me naught. In fact I think now that I probably embarrassed him.”

Alex could not help it. He howled his laughter. The thought of the elegant and urbane Earl of Bothwell being asked to mother-hen his bride was too delicious. “Y-you asked Francis about t-the, t-the marriage bed? Ah, ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Ouch!”

This last came as Velvet, desperate to retaliate, grabbed a handful of his thick, black hair and yanked.

“Dammit, ye little vixen, let go!”

“Don’t you dare laugh at me!” she raged at him. “Don’t you dare!”

She tried to slap him, but Alex, now realizing that she was deadly serious, grabbed for her. Fiercely they wrestled across the
bed, she trying to smack at him; he trying to prevent it. They battled back and forth for several minutes until suddenly Alex found her beneath him.

Her eyes widened with sudden realization as she felt his hard body pressed atop her. She groaned in defeat as his mouth captured hers in a deep and tender kiss.

In that moment Velvet knew that she was lost. His lips moved gently and sweetly against her own, coaxing her to respond, willing her to meet his passion with her own. Hungrily he kissed her, sending the blood racing through her veins and into her head with a pounding roar that left her dizzy. She had the feeling that she was falling, and she clung to him desperately.

“Ah, lovey, how ye intoxicate me,” he murmured against her mouth, kissing her again, this time parting her lips to plunder its sweetness. For a moment this new intimacy drained her will completely. Only once before had he kissed her like that and then but briefly. Now his tongue probed deeply with slow, exaggerated movements, stroking and caressing the satin of her tongue until small flames of undiluted desire began to burn deep within her.

Alex thought he would go mad from the pleasure that her lips presented. He had never believed that any woman could offer such delights, and he was in no great hurry to rush them into the final act of consummation. As her head fell back against his arm, he trailed his slender fingers down her graceful throat, lingering a moment to touch lightly the visibly beating pulse in its blue-veined hollow. Then he bent his head and kissed the quivering throb.

He lay back a moment, his dark head next to her auburn one on the pillows. “Look at me, Velvet, my love.”

She turned her passion-glazed green eyes toward his lionlike golden ones, which now gazed down on her. With feathery touches he stroked a tender breast, his fingers gently encircling it slowly in a delicious, mesmerizing action. Velvet felt a lovely warmth begin to suffuse her limbs. Without realizing it she sighed, and Alex smiled softly. His fingers moved upward and began to tease the sensitive nipple until she thought the flesh would burst open and pour forth a liquid sweetness. But then, when he twisted his body and, lowering his head, took her little nipple into his mouth, Velvet understood that the pleasure was only beginning.

Suddenly she was no longer afraid. She realized that she hadn’t understood anything about this marvelous thing called lovemaking. She still didn’t understand what was expected of her, or exactly what the act of consummation would involve, but she was content for now to trust in Alex Gordon. After all, she reasoned for one brief, sane moment, he was her betrothed husband and she certainly could not deter him from his intent. A great burst
of tenderness overcame her and, reaching up, she caressed his thick hair with her hand.

He felt her touch, and his heart quickened with delight, for he recognized that at least for the time being she was free of fear. When he turned his attention to her other breast lest it feel neglected, she moaned low, and the passionate sound sent a shiver through him. His curious hand slipped down her torso to her belly, and he tenderly rubbed it, sending a small dart of delight through her.

Then to his surprise she said, “May I touch you, Alex?”

“Aye, lovey, for if I gie ye pleasure wi’ my touch, so can ye gie me pleasure wi’ yers.” He lay back, barely breathing lest he startle her.

Velvet raised herself onto an elbow and gazed down at him. He was lean and muscled, and upon his broad chest was a wide mat of dark hair that narrowed as it traveled down his belly. She followed the dark line, her green eyes widening suddenly, her gaze flying back upward as her cheeks reddened. Then, shyly, she caressed his shoulder, her hand running down his chest, tangling in the soft fur of him. Her touch inflamed him, and his own heart beat wildly as she indulged her virgin’s curiosity.

Reaching up, his arm encircled her neck and drew her back down so that her firm, young breasts were pressing against his chest. Their lips met again, and this time Velvet did not simply receive his homage. This time she kissed him back. He rolled her onto her back, enfolding her in his hungry embrace. She could feel his long body matching hers: his legs against her legs, his long torso pressing into her soft flesh.

His lips became more frantic as desire rose from deep within him. He kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, her stubborn little chin, and her mouth again. “Tell me that ye want me, Velvet,” he almost pleaded with her. “Tell me that ye want me as much as I want ye!” And he shuddered with his desperate need.

She shivered, too, feeling the hard length of him that had not been there before. It pressed insistently against her thigh, almost a separate entity of its own, seeking entry into her young body. Suddenly she was afraid again, and she sobbed her fear.

“Dear God, Velvet, dinna put me off now when I long so desperately for ye!” Shifting his weight, he slipped his hand between her legs and, moving swiftly up, touched her in that most secret of places.

“No!” She twisted beneath him, her fright evident.

He groaned. “I won’t hurt ye, sweetheart. I swear it!”

“Liar!” she whispered. “Do you not remember my brother’s wedding night? I do!”

“The pain is sweet, my darling, and ’tis only once. For God’s sake, let us have done with this damned virginity of yers!” He caught her hands and, pulling them above her head, pinioned her firmly. Then his knee nudged her resisting thighs apart while with his other hand he guided his manhood to the mark.

Feeling him gain a small entry, she cried out as the swelling pressure invaded her and she begged him to stop. Maddened now with his own needs, he barely heard her. Carefully so as not to give her any more pain than necessary, he slowly pushed himself into her virgin sheath. She could feel him filling her with a fullness that shattered her, and then, before she could protest his actions further, he thrust through her maiden barrier with one swift movement.

She felt but a single stinging pain and cried out sharply, but her cry was more of a lament for something lost rather than from any serious hurt she had received.

He lay very still within her, allowing her tender body to adjust itself to his invasion, and then he said softly, “There, sweetheart, ’tis over. Now let me teach ye the honeyed sweetness that two bodies can create.”

There was a little discomfort as he began to move in her, but with each stroke of his manhood it lessened. His breathing became labored, then suddenly he shuddered and lay still once again.

“God’s blood!” he swore angrily, and, curious, she asked, “What is it, my lord? Have I displeased you in some way?” She didn’t understand why, but suddenly she wanted to make him happy.

He rolled off her and, laying next to her in the big bed, said, “Nay, sweetheart, ye’ve not displeased me. I am angered at myself, for I was so damned hot for ye that I was only interested in my own pleasure and gae ye none. ’Twill not happen again, Velvet, I promise ye. I behaved like a green boy, spilling my seed so quickly.”

She really didn’t quite understand what he meant, and so, innocently, she soothed him. “You didn’t hurt me greatly, Alex. After the first pain it was rather pleasant. Really it was!”

He laughed gently. “Pleasant, Velvet, is not quite what it should have been. There should have been a lovely melting feeling, and I know that ye did not receive that, did ye?”

“Nay,” she answered him, puzzled. “A melting feeling? Nay, I had no melting feeling. Is it necessary, this melting feeling?”

“Not necessary, but wonderful, sweetheart. Gie me time to recover myself and then we shall love again. Ye hae made me very happy, lovey, and I would make ye happy also.” He put an arm
about her and said gently, “Sleep now, sweetheart. ’Tis been an exciting day for us both.”

When Velvet opened her eyes again, the gray dawn was just beginning to filter through the narrow windows of the room. For a second she forgot where she was, but then Alex snored lightly beside her and she remembered. Curious, she sat up and stared down at him. It was the very first time she had really looked hard at him, and in sleep there was a vulnerability about him he did not have when awake. Just above his left eyebrow was a tiny scar that she had not noticed before. Gently she reached out and touched it, letting her fingers trail softly down his jawline. He was really quite attractive, this man who was her betrothed husband, even if he was totally impossible to get along with and far more stubborn than anyone else she had ever known in her whole life.
Her husband.
This man was her husband. Nay! She was betrothed to him, but he was not her real husband yet, and neither a handfast marriage nor a Calvinist preacher could make it so if she would not accept it. When her parents returned from the Indies, when they were properly wed in a church by a priest of their own religion,
then
she would accept him as her husband.

“Ye’re even beautiful when ye frown,” he remarked, opening his wonderful eyes.

She smiled at him, noticing that his speech had become even more Scots in character since they had crossed over the border yesterday. “How did you get the scar over your eye?” she asked him.

“When I was a boy, my brother Nigel and I were practicing with swords and his foot slipped. My father beat him for it, and me also. He said we should have been better swordsmen.” He reached up and pulled her down. “I want ye, lass,” he said thickly, and then he was kissing her.

She had no fear of the unknown this time, and her body softened against him. She felt his hands smoothing down her back to cup and caress her buttocks, and then he turned her onto her back, finding her breasts once more and loving them with both his hands and his mouth. Velvet found his touch delicious and murmured her approval of his actions. Her lovely young breasts grew swollen with her longing as the nipples began to ache, becoming tiny and tight.

His hand slipped down her body, sliding between her legs, and she tensed slightly, but he kissed her ear and whispered, “Nay, sweetheart, but trust me.” His fingers were incredibly gentle, and for a moment she hardly realized that he was stroking her soft secret. Then without warning that little jewel began to tingle with
such an intense feeling that very quickly the only thing she was conscious of was the fierce throbbing.

“Oh.” She gasped softly. “Oh! Oh!”

Twisting his big body, Alex swung over Velvet and, in one smooth motion, drove into her. Again she gasped, but the sound was one of pleasure. His hands rested on her hips, holding her firmly as he moved upon her, and this time it was far different than it had been the night before. Her senses were awash with pleasure, and behind her closed eyes images whirled in a pinwheel of kaleidoscopic colors.

Velvet met passion head-on for the very first time, her head thrashing wildly. She was lost in a blazing world, and, sure now of her pleasure, Alex took his own.

When afterward she became aware of herself and her surroundings again, Velvet lay quietly next to Alex, waiting for her breathing to even and her heart to stop pounding wildly. Finally she said, “ ’Twas more like an explosion than a melting, my lord.”

Reaching out, he took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I love ye, my Velvet Gordon, Countess of BrocCairn. I love ye very much.”