To Tame a Dangerous Lord (24 page)

When she made no reply, he asked in that same easy voice, “Are you worried that I might ravish you?”

To be truthful, she was worried that he would
not
. He would be doing his duty, attempting to beget an heir, but dutifully servicing her was a far cry from being an ardent lover.

“No,” she answered unevenly, “I am not worried about ravishment.”

Rayne set aside the poker and turned to face her, his intense gaze leveled at her. “You have nothing to fear from me, Madeline.”

“That is easy for you to say, since you have done this countless times before.”

A smile claimed his mouth. “Not countless. You give
me too much credit for amorous experiences. And I have never once made love to my bride.”

While she was considering his comment, Rayne crossed the room to her and reached up to lightly stoke her bare throat. “It’s time we undressed, darling.”

Madeline stiffened involuntarily. “Must we?” she asked rather breathlessly at the seductive feel of his fingers on her skin.

“I suppose not, but lovemaking is more pleasurable without clothing.”

Perhaps so, but he would see her entire body with all its imperfections.

“Your shyness is quite endearing,” Rayne observed when she didn’t respond.

She gave him a sharp glance. “I don’t mean to be endearing.”

“I know,” he replied with hidden laughter, his warm blue eyes amused and beguiling.

His teasing was calculated to set her at ease, she knew. Yet her misgivings were very real. How a man as beautiful as Rayne could want a plain woman like her, she couldn’t fathom.

“I am not your ideal bride,” Madeline murmured, “and I never will be.”

Rayne’s features seemed to soften. “You are entirely too critical of yourself, love. I have told you before how appealing I find you … and I mean to prove it to you tonight.”

“I would be perfectly happy if you chose to postpone the consummation.”

He slanted his head. “But I would not be. Come now, where is your vaunted courage? This morning you were threatening to shoot me. Surely you haven’t turned missish
all of a sudden,” he said with that same glimmer of amusement.

He was deliberately provoking her, Madeline realized. And then he gently gathered her face in his hands and kissed her nose, of all things.

Her heartbeat tripped over itself. Despite her nerves, she was charmed.

“Madeline, sweetheart,” Rayne said in a soothing voice, “I have every intention of ensuring your pleasure in our marriage bed. And I will do my utmost to help you over your wedding night jitters. In truth, I am rather unnerved myself.”

She frowned at him. “I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true, I swear it. Matrimony will take some time to become accustomed to—for both of us, I expect.”

She searched Rayne’s gaze for what he was feeling, but she couldn’t tell much from his expression. There was tenderness there, and friendly sympathy, perhaps even affection. Yet she didn’t dare trust her senses just now. More likely, she was merely seeing what she desperately hoped to see.

She let him undress her, though. It was foolish to keep protesting when she was sure he meant to have his way in the end anyway.

He unfastened the hooks at the back of her gown, then helped raise it over her head. As he took the garment from her, however, he jerked his hand reflexively and winced.

Madeline made a small sound of dismay. “I am sorry—I should have warned you about the pins. Arabella insisted I wear one of her lovely gowns, but I could not let her destroy it permanently by cutting, so the seams are only pinned.”

Surprisingly, Rayne responded with a rich chuckle as he laid the gown over the back of a chair. “I always knew you were prickly, love, and now I have proof. You should be wearing a sign around your neck, ‘beware the dangerous bride.’”

At the absurdity of the image he engendered, Madeline couldn’t help but smile. She hardly noticed when Rayne knelt at her feet to remove her slippers and stockings, but when he glanced up at her, she found herself relishing the laugh lines around his blue eyes.

Then he stood and proceeded to remove her corset, and her breath caught.

“I shall have to ask Arabella to help you choose some suitable bride clothes,” he remarked as he next relieved her of her chemise. “I won’t have it said that my countess dresses as a governess.”

She suspected he distrusted her taste in fashion, but it was hard to think about such mundane subjects as her wardrobe with her heart in her throat.

By now Rayne had tossed her chemise aside, and she stood completely naked before him. For an endless moment, he remained utterly silent as he drank his fill of her.

She felt exposed, uncertain…. Yet his bold, seductive gaze seared her wherever it touched. From his expression, she could almost believe he wanted her.

“I knew your body was incredibly lovely,” he murmured.

Then he stepped closer and reached up to lightly clasp her bare shoulders. Further surprising her, he guided her to the cheval glass in one corner of the bedchamber and turned her to face her reflection.

Rayne stood behind her, watching her in the mirror. “As I said, incredibly lovely.”

Madeline wished she could believe him. She wanted to be lovely and feminine and all the things she was not.

Without waiting for her contradiction, Rayne reached up to her hair and pulled out the pins from the tight knot she wore at her nape, then smoothed out the tresses so that they fell loose and shining around her shoulders.

“I have wanted to do this since the first time I met you,” Rayne asserted, his voice a deep, husky sound. “You should wear your hair down more often, sweeting. This style softens your features.”

Madeline had to agree with him. The luminous light in the bedchamber helped as well. The play of firelight caught the lighter strands of gold amid the brown of her hair and danced over her pale skin, giving it a rosy cast.

“You forget,” she replied her own voice a husky rasp, “that companions are in no position to indulge their vanity, nor are teachers for that matter. Nor can they risk being taken for lightskirts.”

“True. But countesses may do as they please in the privacy of their own bedchambers … and they
should
do as their husbands please.”

At his provocative declaration, Madeline arched an eyebrow. “Is pleasing you a requirement for being your wife?”

The slight gust of his laughter stirred the hair at her temple. “My first inclination is to say ‘yes,’ but I know better than to make any demands of you, sweet Madeline. And I have no doubt you will please me willingly all on your own.”

She felt Rayne’s hot gaze on her bare breasts at the same time he wrapped his arms around her from behind. When he cupped her fullness in his hands, her lips parted wordlessly.

As she watched, his knowing fingers fanned over the swelling mounds, then closed to tease the tight peaks, coaxing a response low in her belly and making her shiver with delight.

Yet it was Rayne’s look that left her unable to breathe. Under his intense gaze, she actually felt beautiful for the first time in her life.

Her pulse was pounding wildly by now. Even so, Madeline strove to school her own features, afraid all her emotions would be painfully obvious to Rayne. It was difficult to conceal that constant heart-in-the-throat feeling when she looked at him. But it was impossible to hide the desire that was written clearly on her face. Her body was already aching for his touch. She yearned to feel Rayne holding her in his strong arms, kissing her, taking her….

As if sensing her need, Rayne left off fondling her breasts. Instead of gratifying her silent wish, however, he seemed intent on merely tantalizing her further. Lifting her hair, he kissed her nape, then trailed his lips over every inch of her bare shoulders.

Languorous heat was flooding Madeline’s veins and suffusing her limbs with liquid heaviness by the time he brushed one last brief kiss on her shoulder. When he stepped back, she didn’t know whether she was more disappointed that he was no longer bent on arousing her, or excited that he was proceeding to the next step of the consummation.

Both, perhaps, she thought as he removed his coat. Yet excitement won out as Rayne locked gazes with her.

“You should help me undress, wife. I want you to become intimately familiar with my body.”

He never took his eyes off her as she obliged. With trembling fingers, Madeline helped him remove his waistcoat and cravat and shirt. Rayne sat in a chair to remove his pumps and breeches and stockings, but when he stood and turned to face her in all his naked splendor, Madeline could barely do more than breathe.

“You have beautiful eyes,” he murmured, breaking the rapt silence.

“So do you,” she replied truthfully if distractedly.

Indeed, Rayne was beautiful everywhere. Wantonly, irresistibly so. He was six feet and several inches of masculine perfection.

She was almost startled by his sheer maleness … the width of his shoulders, the breadth of his chest, the power and thickness of his thighs, the novelty of his bare loins. Madeline stared hungrily at Rayne as flames and shadows played upon his magnificent body, painfully aware of the urge to reach out and touch him.

With an indulgent smile, Rayne took the decision from her.

“Come to bed with me, love,” he urged, skimming his fingers down her arm to capture her hand.

Leading her to the high, canopied bed, he turned down the covers, then lay back among the pillows, holding out his hand in an invitation for her to join him. Madeline hesitated, though, admiring the lithe grace of his large body yet assaulted by a fresh attack of nerves.

Rayne’s expression was one of amused patience. He
grasped her hand again and tugged her up onto the bed with him, so that she was kneeling beside him. “No missishness allowed, remember?”

Reminding herself that he had promised her connubial bliss, Madeline found her voice. “What should I do?” she asked more steadily.

“Run your hands over my body. Let your fingers wander over my skin.”

It was a command she urgently wanted to obey. Leaning closer, she reached down and began with his powerful torso.

He was so very male, she thought, splaying her fingers over the sculpted ridges of his chest, feeling the flexing sinews beneath the satin skin. Her own chest felt too small to contain the swell of her fast-beating heart as she allowed her touch to roam farther at will. The heat and steel beneath his smooth bare flesh was kindling to her senses, as was his scent. He smelled of musk and warm skin, Madeline realized, reveling in her exploration.

More brazenly, she shifted her hand lower, over his taut abdomen, and then lower still. Bypassing his loins and the swollen column of male flesh that jutted up from a nest of curling black hair, she tentatively rested her hand on his thigh.

When she went no farther, Rayne took her hand again and wrapped her fingers around his thick, straining arousal. Madeline nearly gasped at how big and hard he felt against her palm, but he pressed harder, encouraging her to continue.

“Go ahead … you won’t hurt me.”

To her surprise, the turgid length was velvety soft at
the tip and sleekly rigid elsewhere. And below that, the swollen sacs felt like ripe melons.

Madeline looked up, her cheeks flushing as she met Rayne’s gaze. He was watching her, clearly enjoying the look of fascination on her face.

“You are much larger than I expected,” she admitted.

“What did you expect?” he asked curiously.

She gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t know exactly … something significantly smaller. My only basis for comparison has been classical statues. I don’t quite see how you will fit.”

His eyes alight with teasing laughter, he reached up and slid a hand behind her nape. “I promise you, sweetheart, I will fit perfectly—although first I must make you ready for me.”

His fingers spreading deliciously through her hair, he brought her face down to his and kissed her, his mouth brushing against hers in a tender, erotic caress. And when she responded eagerly, Rayne drew her down fully against him, pulling her into the hard strength of his body.

The warmth of his naked flesh beneath hers was another exquisite shock of sensation, as was the taste of his lips. Madeline shut her eyes, cherishing the feelings that were racing through her … at the same time acknowledging the danger. This mad rush of emotions Rayne was stirring in—all the heat and want and yearning—would only make him harder to resist.

Yet she didn’t have the will to fight it, not when he tenderly eased her onto her back and took complete control of her seduction.

He began by kissing the hollow of her throat, then nuzzling his face in the valley between her breasts. Next
he suckled each of her nipples in turn, gently nipping and rasping.

His mouth was hot and sweet and demanding as he attended to the rest of her body. Eventually his stroking hands joined in her arousal, caressing her with the probing eroticism of an expert lover, lingering and taking his time, as if her pleasure was his only pleasure.

Her thighs were trembling when at last his thumb found the curls of her woman’s mound and glided downward to her slick, sensitive folds. And when he penetrated her throbbing sex with a slow finger, Madeline arched her back wildly.

“Easy, now,” Rayne murmured.

She couldn’t be easy, though. She ached with the way he touched her. His lovemaking felt excruciatingly right—a drawn-out seduction by a man determined to shatter every part of her.

Yet he wasn’t entirely satisfied by his progress, it seemed.

“Give me your mouth, love.”

His roughly sensual voice came to her through her daze, merging with the pleasure vibrating through her body in heated waves.

Wishing desperately that Rayne would take away the ache he’d created in her, Madeline obeyed, raising her face to his. His kiss was hot and bold and thrilling, a spellbinding connection of lips and tongues. When she whimpered with need, his mouth turned even more forceful, yet still remained tender beneath the urgency.

Madeline welcomed his ardor. For this wonderful moment, she was living her most secret fantasy—that Rayne wanted her, loved her.