Touch of Passion (40 page)

“No, you can't touch me,” she said when his hands came to rest on her waist. “Remember?” Loris pulled away. “This is my night to do all the touching. Come and lie down.”

Kian didn't resist as she led him to the bed or when she bade him to lie down in the middle. He did talk to himself as Loris divested herself of both her robe and gown, saying, “I'm dreaming. I know I am. But if I wake up now I'll bash my head against the wall.”

“Does this feel like a dream?” she asked, crawling up onto the bed beside him. She set a hand against his cheek and slowly brought her mouth down to kiss his. Against his lips she whispered, “We're husband and wife now. We can do as we please. Isn't that so?”

“Anything,” he agreed huskily. “Everything.” He gazed longingly at her naked figure, and his hands curled into fists. “But I'm not sure whetiier this is pleasure . . . or torture.”

She chuckled. “Both.”

Rising to her knees, she moved lower and ran her hands boldly over the silk trousers that he still wore. He shuddered when her fingers slid lightly—so lightly—over his swollen manhood, and his hips arched upward, off the mattress. Loris smiled and set her fingers to the ties, then to ridding him of the garment altogether.

“Oh, Kian,” she said, gazing down at him, seeing him completely for the very first time. “You're so beautiful.” Her hand touched his bare thigh, and he sucked in a taut breath. “So very beautiful.”

Kian found the words, and the expression on her lovely face, to be more than a little heartening. He had lain naked with countless women in his youth and had always felt sure of his own charms. But he had never before truly cared what women thought of him before or wished to please one so greatly. Loris was his wife, for now and forever. That she should find him pleasing, even beautiful, was deeply reassuring.

She kissed him again, touching his lips with her tongue until they parted to let her have her way. He moaned beneath the sensual onslaught and was obliged to grab fistfuls of the bedcovers to keep from reaching for her. Then Loris drew away, and her lips slid to one of his ears, the movement sending her hair sliding in a silken caress across his face. It seemed impossible, suddenly, for him to draw in enough breath.

“The thing you don't know about me,” she murmured against the sensitive skin of his ear, causing him to shiver with pleasure, “is that I'm not quite so ignorant about the ways of men and women as you may think.” Her tongue touched the tip of his lobe, teasing, and then moved upward to follow the line of curves in the shell and, finally, dipped lightly into the ear itself. The sensation wrought a sound from
him that Kian had never heard before. He'd always been the master of his sexual experiences before now, save perhaps for hisfirst youthful encounter. Loris made him feel as helpless as a callow youth.

“You see,” she said, pushing up to look down at him, “during those years when I lived at the Red Fox, I was often obliged to fetch and carry for the upstairs girls. Especially when the serving girls were busy.” She moved lower, rubbing herself against him as she went. “And especially when the upstairs girls were too busy with customers to do for themselves.”

Her lips traversed the soft skin of his neck, then moved lower so that her tongue could trace a line over each of his nipples before licking down the length of his stomach. She kissed his belly before looking up at him again.

“I was the one who took up the trays of wine and ale and food. And other things that they needed, as well.” Her hand slid lower, and herfingers closed gently about his manhood, squeezing gently. “I saw all kinds of things. Learned all kinds of things.”

Kian bit back a moan and shook his head, wondering if he was going to survive until daylight. This was definitely the closest thing to torture that he'd ever undergone.

Her fingers slid up and down, though not, he was aware enough to note, with any kind of familiarity. As pleasurable as her touch was, it was unskilled—which only made it more delightful, for she touched everywhere, seeking, learning the length and feel of him.

“You're trembling,” she murmured, sounding fascinated by what she was doing to him. “Your whole body is tense. That's just how I felt, too, when you touched me. Completely beneath your power, but it was so wonderful.”

She slid lower, until her lips hovered just over his hardened member. He could feel her breath on him and shut his eyes tightly. He was going to the of pleasure in another moment. He knew it.

“
Loris
” The word came out as a plea.

“Yes, love,” she murmured, and moved even closer. He could almost feel her lips on him. Her tongue. The loud groan he'd been trying to hold back escaped, and he clenched his teeth in a vain attempt to silence it.

Her lips brushed against his skin, once, twice, and the pleasure exploded. He shouted out, unable to stop himself, while his body helplessly writhed and shuddered in ecstasy. Loris had moved to press herself against him, holding tightly. Afterward, when he lay still, save for the harsh breathing that still wracked his body, she kissed him, his face and lips, and murmured words of love.

Several long minutes passed before Kian came to himself, before his eyes focused to find Loris gazing down at him—smiling—and looking very pleased with herself. In fact, it seemed very much as if she'd like to try doing it all over again. Kian understood the feeling. Next to the pleasure of sexual release itself was knowing that one had the power to impart that pleasure—especially to someone one loved. He'd experienced it, too, when he'd given Loris the same gift months ago. But another such episode just now would surely kill him off for good, Kian thought. It had also been the single most exceptional physical experience of his life; he wanted a little time to savor it.

“Thank you,” he said, though the words sounded woefully foolish to his ears. Still, Loris smiled a little more widely. “I love you.” He reached up a hand to touch her face. “I wish that I might—”

She stopped him with a kiss. “There's no need to say it,” she murmured. “I understand. I know the curse will be lifted soon, Kian. Until then, we shall have to share what pleasure we can.”

He frowned. “It isn't fair to you that I should receive all the pleasure, and you none.”

“I suppose you'll have to find ways to make it up to me, then,” she told him. “By being an exemplary husband in every way. For example”—she ran a finger in a lazy circle
over a small area of his chest—“you might promise to take me home to Tylluan the day after tomorrow.”

“Loris—”

“Or,” she continued, “you might tell me the truth about the troubles there. The full truth, whether you believe it will needlessly worry me or not.”

He didn't want to do either, for if she knew the truth about the troubles she'd be even unhappier when she found herself left behind in London. But considering the gift she'd just given him, it seemed impossible to Kian not to give something back in turn.

And so, first having tucked her comfortably and warmly beneath the sheets, and having taken a moment to clean both himself and the bed, Kian lay beside her, careful not to touch, and told her about the
athanc
.

“I really don't think you should, Kian,” Loris murmure though not very convincingly. “I'm sure it's terribly expensive.”

“That's no concern of yours,” Kian replied. “I would have bought you jewelry as a wedding present, but you appear to be drowning in a wealth of it already. Besides,” he added, watching her carefully, “you like it.”

Which was stating the matter lightly, he thought with a small measure of amusement. Loris's cinnamon gaze was fixed on the delicate music box as if it was the most wonderful, glorious object she'd ever beheld. She was entranced by the music and the tiny figures that either waltzed in pairs across a shining ballroom floor or sat as a group of musicians, playing upon miniature instruments.

He wasn't surprised by her childlike wonder; she had never had toys as a young girl and had owned so few pretty things in her life—certainly not at Tylluan, where their lives had been ruled far more by function than form—that even the simplest objects filled her with delight.

Kian was going to make certain, starting now, that the feeling never dimmed.

With a nod at the shopkeeper the music box was gently
closed and whisked away, boxed and wrapped and presented to Loris with an elegant bow. She held it in an awestruck silence until Kian pried her fingers free and handed it to the footman to hold, along with the other parcels they'd collected during the afternoon.

Kian had never realized how entertaining buying things for one's wife could be, but Loris was terribly easy to please. She might have grown used to being showered with jewels and fancy gowns and the various other necessities that a lady of fashion required, but none of Kian's relatives had thought to give her the simple items that a young woman who'd never had a childhood desired.

He'd taken her into a toy shop—the first she'd ever seen in her life—and let her wander for as long as she pleased. They'd left with a china doll made and clothed in the image of Catherine the Great and a miniature version of Noah's ark, complete with several pairs of brightly painted animals. These, Loris told him, weren't really for her but for any future children they might one day have. Kian pretended agreement but privately imagined Loris putting a pond into the garden so that she could play with her new toy.

Then he'd taken her to a bookshop, for she loved to read, particularly poetry, and had already gone through all the volumes in the library at Tylluan. She had actually kissed him upon leaving the store, bubbling over with happiness at possessing the latest works by Shelley and Keats.

They had proceeded onward, purchasing a pretty new lamp for her bedchamber at Tylluan, a handsome tea service painted with a delicate pattern of red and yellow roses to replace the chipped and mismatched set at the castle, and a bottle of French perfume that smelled of honeysuckle.

The music box had been the last purchase of the long day, and he had purposefully saved it for last. Loris had protested spending money on the other items they'd bought, regardless of how pleased she'd been when the buying had been done, but her protests regarding the music box were so weak that he knew how much she wanted it.

“Thank you,” she said as he settled beside her in the carriage, and took his hand in both of hers to squeeze it. “I shall cherish it forever. It's so very beautiful. Everything—all that you bought for me today—is wonderful.”

“I'm glad if I've pleased you.”

“But now,” she went on, “this must be the end of it. We cannot continue spending funds that are sorely needed at Tylluan. I feel terribly guilty, already, thinking of the sheep that must be replaced, and the repairs to the estate.”

“It's all right, Loris,” he assured her, turning his fingers to twine them with hers. “We will only be wed this once, and God alone knows when I shall next get you to London. I want the occasion to be memorable.”

She smiled in a way that made his heart turn over. “I shall never forget this day, Kian, or your generosity. And the theater tonight—and then home to Tylluan before week's end. Nothing could mar my happiness.”

Her contented mood continued throughout the day and evening, and later, at the theater, when they were the object of a great deal of attention from the other theatergoers. So many men who had admired Loris before her abrupt marriage came by the Seymours' box to offer their congratulations and kiss her hand that Kian began to grow irate.

“How can you bear it?” he asked Niclas, who stood at the back of the box during the intermission, watching the parade of men courting attendance on both of their wives. “Look at the way that fellow's gazing at Julia. I should think you'd want to bash his brains out.”

Niclas sighed aloud. “You have not been wed long, Cousin, and haven't yet learned that there is nothing so charming and alluring as a beautiful woman who is married. Only wait until the first ball that you and Lady Tylluan attend and you can scarce manage to get a dance with your own wife. This is nothing by comparison.”

“Devil take it, I don't want anyone else dancing with Loris. Certainly none of these fops. And I don't want them slobbering all over her hand, either. I'm going to—”

A hand came out from between the heavy velvet curtains at the back of the box to clamp down on Kian's arm, holding him back. The next moment a body emerged to join the hand, perfectly attired and groomed.

“Ah, there you are,
cfender
,” Lord Graymar said pleasantly. “Have I managed to stop a murder in the nick of time?”

“Several,” Kian told him. “Look at those vultures, slavering over Loris and Julia.”

“Quite understandable,” the earl replied. “A man must count himself a fool if he could not admire your lovely wives. Good evening, Niclas. I see that your head is a good deal more level than our young cousin's.”

“He's but newly married,” Niclas replied. “I believe we must forbear with him until he realizes that threatening to relieve his wife's many admirers of their manhood won't particularly endear him to her.”

“True,” Malachi said sagely. “Very true. The ladies do love to be admired, and a jealous husband spoils the pleasure. Apart from that, I fear Kian won't have the time to fulfill his current desires, understandable as they may be. I must speak with you both. Urgently.”

The curtains parted once more, and Tauron Cadmaran appeared. His expression was tense and impatient.

“You've found them,” he said. “Good. I was beginning to worry.”

Kian felt the muscles along the back of his shoulder tighten. “What are you doing here? If you think you're going to join that pack of mongrels drooling on my wife's hand you can think again.”