She wanted more so badly that she dug her fingers into his rock-hard buttocks. He made a soft sound like a groan and moved inside her until she needed to bump her hips to keep him continuing. He increased his strokes with his kisses.
Suddenly her body bucked, out of control. She held on to Ian so tightly that she had to hope she wasn’t hurting, but the pleasure she experienced at that moment was impossible to describe. He stopped and held her until she could breathe again and he removed himself and held her until she slept. Sometime later in the darkness, he took her again. Amazingly, she was as enthusiastic the second time as the first. But again, her body and mind sated, she drifted off to sleep.
* * * *
Ian watched Rose’s relaxed face as the sun arose. Her long eyelashes sat flat against the pearly skin of her cheeks. Her beautiful hair was a bird’s nest, her tender young skin had been slightly abraded by his bristles, and she was the most wonderful sight he had ever seen in the morning, with her expression one of total relaxation. Last night she had been far from relaxed. He appreciated that she had made light of her first time with a man.
He knew without a doubt she had never belonged to anyone other than him. His possessiveness, a trait he didn’t know he owned until last night, had grown by leaps and bounds this morning. Although his wedding vows had been simple, in his heart he had sworn to protect her for the rest of his life. She had given herself to him with an open heart and a great deal of dedication to her wifely duties in his bed. His duty was to take care of her, and he would do no less.
Promising that he would forsake all others had been no chore. The thought of keeping his mistress after marriage, which so many of his peers did, was not for him. He wanted no one but the generous beauty he now had in his bed, sleeping peacefully.
Unable to break the habits of a lifetime, he swung out of bed, knowing his valet wouldn’t enter this room again. He also knew Rose wouldn’t spend her nights in the room divided from his by the dressing room. She would sleep by his side forever. This morning, his valet and her dresser could use the outer door when Ian rang. He sat up, but a sleepy voice said, “Before you go, Ian ...”
He raised his eyebrows in query.
“One more time, if you please.”
He hesitated, and finally shook his head, unwilling to wear out his welcome on the second day of their marriage. First, she needed to be nurtured.
She offered him a glance of disbelief. And then her expression changed to a slow, sultry examination of his face.
Keeping his expression casual, he slid out bed, strolled into dressing room, and rang the bell for his valet. Carr brought up the hot water himself, and agreed to have breakfast for two to be sent up. After a leisurely wash, and a shave, Ian donned his black silk banyan and re-entered the bedroom as the breakfast trays arrived. His beautiful bride leaned back against a bank of pillows. Two maids flurried about, one placing a tray on Rose’s lap and the other on the space he expected to occupy. Rose eyed him. “What a lovely treat,” she said in a voice of utter surprise.
When she had finished and the trays had been taken, he carefully removed her nightgown and made love to her again. This time, she slowly reached another shattering peak with him. A man could have no more than this, a wife who enjoyed the pleasures of the marriage bed, who laughed when he did, and who would be loved by the whole household within a week.
As he was thinking about dressing and doing something other than loving Rose, the bedroom door snicked open. A tiny black cat bounced into the room and gave a flying leap onto the bed, landing on Ian’s chest. He automatically stroked the little pest, who set up a purr that vibrated through him. “I thought we had lost you to the kitchen maids,” he said as he scratched her beneath her chin.
When she had finished with him, Merry strutted over to Rose, and rubbed her head beneath her rescuer’s chin. “We don’t mind sharing, Merry,” Rose said tenderly. “We have enough love for everyone.”
He laughed. Rose was Rose and would never be anyone else, unreadable, intriguing, and with a heart big enough to share. He had no idea of her true depth until he’d had the opportunity to be alone with her for two days. If the reckless beauty hadn’t insisted on him sharing his carriage, he might never found his greatest joy.
Biography
Virginia Taylor trained to be an artist before switching over to gain a diploma as a nurse/midwife. She then veered again, and worked as a theatre set painter and designer while following the tortuous path to be published as a writer of contemporary and historical romance novels.
Others in the Regency Romances series
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Sinfully Delectable https://amzn.to/30uTlBB
Artfully Wicked amzn.to/2rJph5s
Deliciously Hazardous https://amzn.to/2Zevk0N
Excerpt from the next book in the series, Sinfully Delectable.
An apple, a temptress, and a man named Eden.
Della Hayden sees her friend and neighbour, Lord Eden Thornton as a handsome, adorable idiot, and too easy to tease. When an unwanted duke offers for her, she decides to use Eden as her fake betrothed.
Eden, a mathematical genius, loves the musically talented debutante. Although he has always allowed her to run ellipses around him, he has to take a final stand. Win her or lose her, the time has come to show her the consequences of her thoughtless actions.
Will Della finally see him as he is, or will he allow her sinfully delectable ways to ruin her reputation?
1819
ADELITA HAYDEN, ALIAS DELLA HAYDEN, leaned back and took a huge bite of her apple. The satisfying crunch filled her mouth with the sweet, tart juice. She shivered with pleasure, unable to think of anything better than being in the orchard on a perfect summer day, sitting in a tree and watching the thin trails of clouds slowly reforming.
A loud, deep masculine voice sounded through the orchard. “Della. I can see you if you think you’re hiding.”
She had no reason to hide, but Lord Eden Thornton, whom she could see as a flicker of yellow approaching through the line of trees, was a master of overstatement. If he wanted to relax with her, now was the time. She had come here to be alone, but talking to him was comparable to talking to her conscience, anyway. Today, she didn’t want to think or to be careful about how she phrased her words, and Eden was the most relaxed person she knew. She couldn’t upset him if she tried. On his best days he was a delight, and on his worst, distracting. “Sorry, but I’m not here. I’m in the drawing room.”
“No, you’re not. I looked there.” Dappled by the sunlight, he strode between the two nearest apple trees.
Her handsome neighbor was a beautiful sight to behold. Today he wore a yellow jacket that echoed the color of his sun struck hair. His breeches clung to his muscular thighs and emphasized his lithe hips. She swallowed her last bite, and coughed, horrified by thoughts of hips and thighs relating to Eden who, although male, wasn’t exactly ... well, he was masculine, but not in her mind— until today. Today he looked manly despite his outrageously modish jacket. “Why are you wearing that thing?”
“What thing?” He glanced down at his breeches, which took her eyes there again, and then quickly away. She certainly didn’t want her thoughts centered on his crotch, because that’s not the sort of friend she meant to be.
“The yellow jacket. You look like a pineapple.” He didn’t look like a pineapple. He looked as utterly handsome and as perfectly fit as he was. Of course, she would never let him know she thought he was rather delectable. Not that the idea would go to his head. No ideas went to his head. Although the aforementioned was shockingly beautiful, his cranium was filled with complicated nonsense. She could only ever have a light-hearted conversation with him, but today being distracted by him suited her. “Pull off an apple.” She took another chomp.
“Are you going to marry him?” Ignoring her invitation, he leaned his back against her tree, staring at the rows and rows of the others.
“I haven’t decided.”
“
He’s a good chap.”
“I know.” She swallowed a sharp, tangy mouthful. “And he’s a duke.”
“Yes.”
“Everyone wants to marry a duke.”
“I know.”
He looked up at her. “He’s also rich.”
“Do I seem like a fortune hunter to you?”
His gaze dropped and she couldn’t see his expression.
She saw his shoulders lift. “You’re surely not in doubt?”
“I’m rich too,” he said in an undertone.
“Well, if I were a fortune hunter, I could marry you, instead.”
“I didn’t offer for you.” His eyes met hers, upside down, because he had
leaned right back to look at her.
“You would if I wanted you to.”
“Do you want me to?” He pushed off the tree trunk, turned, and aimed
his cerulean blue gaze straight up at her.
She shrugged. Of course, she didn’t. She liked him too much to inflict her
moods on him. Today her body ached. She didn’t know what she wanted but she knew that she didn’t want the duke. He would expect too much of her. She would have to be a society hostess and gracious to all and sundry, and she didn’t need the sort of life that even her mother had rejected. All she needed from life was music. Tunes played through her head faster than she could finger the piano keys, faster than she could write down her ideas. “I would rather be your lover.”
His eyebrows lowered. “You’re not supposed to mention lovers, Della. Even to me.”
“You’re not in the least susceptible.”
“As a matter of fact, I’m quite human.”
She laughed. “You’re divine, Eden. Sometimes I wish you were
susceptible. You would be such a charming lover.”
He sighed. “You’re in one of your exasperating moods.”
“Yes, I know I’m maddening. You have a mistress but I can’t take a lover.”
“And who said I have a mistress?” His voice sounded saintly, which wasn’t at all hard to relate to his angelic appearance.
“She’s a prime one, Rydale says.”
He shrugged. “He sees himself as a judge of courtesans because he doesn’t keep a mistress himself.”
“I always thought he was fixed on Hebe.”
“Well, the duke’s fixed on you. I expect in a few weeks, you’ll be betrothed too.” He focused on his tall, shiny boots. Viewed from above, his expression appeared downcast.
“Perhaps I ought to have an affair before I’m rushed to the altar.”
“An affair?” He found a speck of dust on the toe of his right boot, which he rubbed against the back of his other leg.
“I expect you would have many affairs if your mistress wasn’t a ‘prime one.’”
He shrugged. “While you are a composite one? I find composites interesting.”
She had no idea what he was talking about but if he meant she was interesting, she would have to laugh. She was a tempestuous woman who would annoy the poor duke if she married a dull stick like him. He didn’t understand a word she said, but Eden did, and he sympathized whenever she needed a sympathizer. Hooking her leg back over the branch, she managed to slither down. Since he didn’t move away, her skirts snicked in his jacket buttons before
sliding off and landing at her feet, while she clutched helplessly at his divinely broad shoulders. “Whew.”
He breathed through his teeth. “Is it teasing Eden day, again?”
“All we need is an apple and the scene is set. Oh, my. I see have an apple in my hand. Take a bite.” She pushed the fruit close to his mouth.
He palmed her hand away. His expression tightened. “One day you’ll go too far, Della.”
“Today is the day. Kiss me, Eden. I’ve never been kissed and I don’t want the duke to be the first.”
He eyed her with suspicion, focusing on her as if testing for the truth. “Never been kissed?”
“I’m not going to repeat myself. It’s too humiliating to have admitted that once, let alone twice.”
“In that case, I’m willing to kiss you. Then you will never have to say those humiliating words again. Hold your face up.”
She pushed his shoulders. “If it’s not going to be a proper kiss, don’t bother. I’ve had pecks, of course. I want a romantic, passionate kiss.”
He sighed with what would never have been impatience. Eden didn’t experience highs or lows. His steadiness was legendary. “You’ll have to help me. Tell me exactly what to do, and I’ll do it.”
“There’s no need to be a martyr about this, you know. I’m sure the duke would be pleased to teach me.” She shrugged a casual shoulder.
“I didn’t plan on teaching. I planned on kissing.”
She glanced warily into his eyes. The man was filled with infinite patience. She couldn’t think of a single person who didn’t like him. About five years ago, he had turned up here with her older brother, who knew him from Oxford. Apparently, the twenty-one year-old was considering moving his family into an enormous property that had been left vacant for more than ten years, and Raimond thought he ought to show him around. Eden quickly had the place renovated and he settled in with his mother and two sisters, both of whom were still in the schoolroom. In all the years she had known him, he had never seemed put out. He had never complained about anyone, or joined in the gossip sessions. He didn’t criticize even the worst of anyone’s behavior. She knew this because she usually exhibited the worst sort of behavior, herself. And kissing her without teaching her anything would suit her very nicely.
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* * *
[.1]
[KW2]I think this can be deleted since his participation in the battle of Waterloo was already mentioned on page 3 when discussing his visits to Rose’s country house.
[.3]
[.4]
[.5]
[KW6]Unemployment or underemployment?
[KW7]There are a lot of commas in this sentence. As well as the one I’ve suggested removing, do we need to have his groom’s name at this point or could it and its surrounding commas be removed here?
[KW8]2 “Sir Ian”’s in this paragraph. Could her statement about being able to drop the “Sir” move earlier in the book near here? Or could one of the Sir Ian’s in this para be replaced?
[KW9]Should this be ‘or’ or ‘and’?
[KW10]I’m not sure about this. It sounds a little medical and I wasn’t sure if it was silent since she wasn’t breaking the breathless silence.
[KW11]Is it casual? Possibly a slow smile?
[KW12]Is the almost because he might be merciful?
[KW13]To try and stop him? Or “as” he lifted her knees?
Beautifully Reckless Page 9
