by Sadie Bosque
He turned to her with a predatory smile. “See something you like?”
Annalise raised her eyes to his. He caught her staring, and she burned even more in embarrassment.
His smile turned gentle, and he settled on his hunches in front of the bath. “Do not worry. I promised I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want.”
She remembered the night he came to her for the last time. His alcohol breath against her cheek, his hard shaft against her center. And his crude words. It is your duty as a wife to pleasure me whenever I am hard, or I shall find someone else who will.
“But last time… you said—”
Blake turned away with a grimace. “We said no past, love.” His voice was hoarse, and he said the words as if against immense pain. He took a deep breath. “I was an idiot. I was young and foolish and the biggest arse this world had ever known.”
Annalise smiled softly. “I am not disagreeing.”
Blake let out a low laugh. “I have made a lot of mistakes. I have fallen hard in life. But one has to fall to learn. Let me prove to you I’ve learned. Let me atone for my sins.”
“How?”
“I can start by rubbing your feet.” Blake dipped his hand under the water and fished out her ankle. He washed her with soap before letting it drop and started rubbing the sole of her foot.
Annalise moaned and dropped her head back against the bath. He continued kneading her foot with his thumbs, then moved up to her calves, and every thought fled Annalise’s mind. He worked on her other foot, and she lay in the bath, enjoying her husband’s ministrations. When he was done, she was languid and relaxed.
Blake brought a towel and wrapped her in it as she stood. He picked her up and carefully set her on the bed, then started drying her thoroughly.
Annalise studied the harsh lines of her husband’s serious face as he kneeled before her, concentrating on drying her legs. “You would be a perfect maid, do you know?” she teased, hoping to get him out of his serious thoughts.
Blake smiled. “Are you offering me the work? I would gladly take the offer, but you would have to take care of the estates.”
“Hmm, but will you be able to dress my hair?”
“I shall aspire to do your every bidding,” he whispered as he straightened on his knees, his face mere inches away from hers.
Annalise stared into the impenetrable eyes of her husband, which darkened with passion. Annalise leaned forward until her lips touched his.
Blake closed his eyes but otherwise didn’t move. Annalise’s heart thumped loudly in her chest.
Don’t do this, her mind warned.
Just for today, her heart answered.
Annalise opened her mouth and placed a soft kiss on Blake’s lips.
Blake took her by her upper arms and eased her away. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you,” she answered hoarsely.
“Darling, this isn’t what this was about,” he whispered back.
“I know. I just need your comfort… I need you. Just for tonight.”
Blake swallowed loudly. “What if tonight is not enough for me?”
“You said you’d do anything I ask of you tonight.”
Blake nodded. “So I did.”
“So I am asking. Kiss me.”
The next moment, his lips were on hers. Hot, wet, demanding. He kissed her hungrily, like a ravenous wolf devouring its prey. Annalise wrapped her arms around his neck, and Blake picked her up and placed her on the bed.
He climbed on top of her, kissing her neck, her collarbone, then lowered his head and nipped on her nipple. Annalise yelped and almost shot off the bed. He raised his eyes, looking smug, then slowly lowered his mouth without taking his eyes off hers and licked around the dark areola.
Wicked sensations shot down between her legs, and her breathing grew frantic. Blake took her nipple into his mouth and suckled lightly. Annalise squirmed, writhing beneath him. Her hands went to hug his head closer to her, and her thighs fell open, letting Blake settle between them comfortably.
Annalise ran her hands up his back, marveling at the way his muscles bunched beneath her touch. She wanted to take off his shirt and see his beautiful body naked to her gaze. She didn’t remember him being so hard and large before he disappeared. She could hardly wrap her arms about his shoulders now. But he was infinitely gentle with her, kissing and licking her with the reverence he had never shown her before.
Blake softly nudged her legs farther apart, and she squirmed. It finally dawned on her that she was completely naked, open before him, while he was almost fully dressed.
“I shall not hurt you,” he said, his gaze roaming her face. “I just want to bring you pleasure.”
He brought his finger to her center and ran it through her feminine folds. Annalise moaned and lifted her hips. Blake settled more comfortably beside her, propping himself on one arm. His other hand was doing wicked things to her. He was playing with her folds, separating them, spreading the moisture he found there.
“Lord, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.
His finger traveled a little higher and encountered a sensitive nub. Annalise jumped in reaction.
“There you are,” Blake murmured, then moved so that his face was right above her center.
He blew lightly, introducing a hitherto unknown sensation to her. Her hips lifted once again on their own accord, and Blake chuckled.
“Blake?” Annalise asked in uncertainty.
Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. She didn’t know what she was asking for. She didn’t know what he was going to do. She just knew that she wanted this to never end, and at the same time, she wanted something else. Something more.
Blake turned his head and placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh, then higher. He repeated the same ministrations to her other thigh, then moved up and kissed her below her navel. His afternoon stubble pricked her skin, adding more sensations to her overwrought nerve endings. Wave after wave heat covered Annalise’s body, and she writhed as if in agony.
“Tell me what you want,” Blake whispered against her skin.
“Blake, please.”
“What do you want, love?” He raised his face to hers, his eyes heavy-lidded with passion, his lips puffy and wet.
Annalise closed her eyes, unable to hold his burning gaze. “Touch me,” she breathed. “Kiss me.”
“Where?” Blake trailed his finger down from her navel, leaving a fiery sensation in his path.
He slowed down when he encountered the patch of intimate hair, then leisurely, torturously circled the swelling nub above her center. Annalise raised her hips with an agonized moan. Blake put one hand on her abdomen, gently pushing her down onto the bed. He trailed his finger even lower and dipped it inside her center.
“Here?” he asked hoarsely.
“Yes, Blake…”
He pushed his finger in while the heel of his palm was rubbing her most sensitive part. Annalise’s hips moved of their own accord in rhythm with the movements of his finger. Blake gently added a second finger, stretching her, filling her.
Annalise cried his name and bunched the sheets in her hands. Then Blake lowered his head and licked her center. And the moment he did, Annalise lost all coherent thought.
Disjointed words and prayers escaped her mouth as she scrambled to chase the feeling that seemed to evade her. Nothing existed in this world anymore except for Annalise and Blake. His scandalous words like honey to her ears, his sensual touches like fire to her soul. His wicked tongue brought unfathomable sensations to the core of her. Her entire existence was concentrated upon a blissful feeling forming at her center.
With a scream, Annalise came back down to earth, panting as if she’d run for miles. She was hot, and her body still pulsed with the aftershocks of pure bliss. Annalise brushed her hair back, which stuck to her sweaty face, and looked down at Blake. He slowly withdrew his fingers, kissed her on her belly, and rolled away. With a groan, he placed his hand on his crotch and s
queezed.
Blake’s fingers shook as he undid the falls and took himself in hand. “God, how I want you, Annalise.” The words were whispered like a prayer.
Annalise reached for him, but the moment she touched his hand, he moved away with a curse.
“No, Annalise. Don’t,” he said, his voice hoarse. “If you touch me, I shall lose the tiny remainder of my control.”
After the bliss he’d given her, Annalise truly didn’t mind if he lost control. In fact, she was buzzing with anticipation. She remembered the act to be unpleasant, but now there was an emptiness in the center of her, and she relished the thought of Blake filling her.
“I haven’t had a woman in over a year, my dear. If I take you now, I might inadvertently hurt you. And it’s the last thing I want to do. You deserve more. A lot more.”
“You didn’t…” Annalise faltered, but she couldn’t keep the question in any longer. They vowed that today they would not speak of the past. But it was no use. The curiosity, the jealousy, was burning inside her. She cleared her throat. “You didn’t have anyone when you were away?”
Blake, who was lying on his back, with his eyes closed, his face a grimace of pain, opened his eyes and shot a strange look at her. “Darling, I haven’t had anyone since the moment I met you. Anyone else, that is. The last time I was with a woman was with you, on our wedding night.” He grimaced and turned away from her.
She remembered that night clearly. But she didn’t believe his words. “What about your mistresses?”
“I’ve told you… I wasn’t unfaithful to you, I swear. I was angry with you after the wedding night, which is ridiculous, I know. I shouldn’t have been angry with you—I should have directed the fury at myself—but I was. And I thought… to humiliate you,” he said with a grimace and turned back to her, his eyes full of entreaty. “I was an arse and an idiot. I listened to my father. And after he died, I… Well, I took all his words as gospel. I know it doesn’t make it any better for you, but I swear… As selfish of an arse as I was, as callous and foolish, one thing I never was is unfaithful.”
Annalise sat up and looked around the room for her clothing. A dressing gown lay on the corner of the bed, so she took it and wrapped her naked form. She felt vulnerable naked around him. She felt even more vulnerable now that he’d confessed the hurt he had caused her in the past was on purpose. Did she dare believe that he was truly faithful, just cruel? Was one even better than the other? Her rioting thoughts battled in her mind.
“I shall never take anything from you again. I shall only give… anything you want.”
Annalise nodded without turning his way. “I would like to be alone now.”
“Of course.” Blake stood, hovered a few moments beside her, but then turned on his heel and stalked away.
The Marital Duty
Autumn 1739
Blake had returned home drunk. It was common for him to appear at his home in a state of inebriation. He had not seen Annalise, much less come to her bed, since their wedding night. After that night, she’d demanded he never enter her chambers foxed, and since he was always foxed, he’d kept to her wishes.
But tonight was different, wasn’t it?
His father’s funeral had been three nights ago. And no matter their differences, it was Annalise’s duty as his wife to comfort him, wasn’t it?
His wife had already gone to bed. He had learned that from the servants. The feeling of loss and emptiness settled deep in his stomach.
He wished to spend time with her, to be with her, but all of what he knew about marriage was from his father. And everything his father taught him went against Blake’s instincts.
His father was his mentor, his hero; the one Blake had looked up to his entire life and sought respect and admiration from. Now that he was dead, Blake needed more than ever to make his memory proud by following in his footsteps.
No, there would be no seeking comfort from his wife. His father would never have done that. He was tough, and Blake needed to be tough, too. He would go to Annalise’s bed and demand his marital rights. She was in no position to thwart his advances.
Foxed or not, he was her husband, and it was her duty to pleasure him.
Blake remembered in a haze the night of their wedding, her frightened eyes, the way she’d stiffened in his arms.
He had never bedded a virgin. All of his previous liaisons were with the women of low virtue, the ones who gladly lowered themselves to their knees and put his cock between their lips. He never had to think about their pleasure or comfort.
Annalise, on the other hand, was untouched. Did she find him repulsive? He pushed the thought aside.
He climbed up the stairs and stopped in front of her door. They’d been married for over a month, and he hadn’t seen her this entire time. He wondered if she’d enjoyed the reprieve. Or perhaps she was taking lovers herself. The thought painted red over his vision, and he knocked on the door before letting himself in.
Annalise peeked her head out of the covers and looked at him as he entered.
He could see her outline clearly in the moonlight. She was wearing a nightcap—an ugly piece of clothing he wished to throw into the fire. She looked confused, but as she realized it was Blake, she tensed immediately. The realization made Blake even angrier than he was before.
He stalked toward her, slightly swaying on his feet. “What, did you think you got a reprieve from me, wife?” he said with a drunken slur. “No such luck. I still need my heirs from you.” With that, he started undressing.
Annalise didn’t take her eyes off him but didn’t make a sound, either.
He wondered what thoughts were going through her head. Was she frightened of him? Would she rather he left? He finished undressing and climbed into bed beside her.
He was already hard as a rock, and the slide of his limbs against her warm skin didn’t cool his ardor.
Instead of recoiling, Annalise propped herself on one elbow and placed a hand against his cheek. The scent of her enveloped his senses, and he couldn’t help but lean into the warmth of her palm.
“I am sorry about your father,” she whispered. “I know you are grieving. I wish I could help you with it.”
The kind words brought tears to his eyes. Real men don’t cry; his father’s words burned at the back of his mind. Only weaklings do.
“You can and you will,” he said hoarsely.
He climbed half on top of her, and Annalise placed her hands on his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, bracing for him to begin. The trusting gesture sent a pang through his wretched heart. He rolled off her a little and looked at her face. Her eyes were shut, and her face was scrunched in fear.
“Look, you have nothing to be afraid of. It won’t hurt this time. Or at least that’s what they say.” His tone wasn’t reassuring, and the drunken slur wasn’t helping either.
Annalise opened her eyes and looked at him.
Blake slowly lowered his face and kissed her deeply. Annalise put a hand between them and pushed on his chest. Blake stared at her, surprised.
“The taste of alcohol,” she said with a grimace. “I told you I do not like it.”
“Then we’ll get straight to rutting,” he slurred. “Feel this?” He ground his pelvis into hers, rubbing his cock against her quim. “It is your duty as a wife to pleasure me whenever I am hard, or I shall find someone else who will.”
“Blake,” Annalise said softly. “I do not ask a lot of you—”
“Will you leave me be? My father had just died!” Blake cried. “I deserve to drown my sorrows in a bottle.”
“I’d rather you shared your sorrows with me.”
Blake scoffed. What a feminine sentiment. “If you don’t want me drunk, then I shan’t come at all.”
Blake crawled out of bed and started collecting his clothing, swaying drunkenly. “I can find wenches to pleasure me a lot better than you do.” He turned to see Annalise’s shocked face, sketched her a bow, and walked away.
C
hapter 12
Blake stood, his back against Annalise’s door for what seemed like forever. Her coldness, her reluctance to trust him, felt like a curse. No matter how close he got to her, she was ever farther away. And he deserved it.
What he didn’t deserve was her kindness; neither did he deserve her passion. His body was still wound up after the interlude in her bedroom, but he refused to give himself the release he craved. He didn’t deserve that, either.
That night in the long-ago memory when he had left her alone in her rooms, he’d remembered hearing her sobbing. His mind was so fogged with alcohol that he fell asleep rather quickly after that. But her sobs were forever etched into his mind.
This wasn’t the worst thing, however. To spite her, after Annalise had rejected him, he’d gone out to a few society functions with a certain actress.
It didn’t go beyond that. Just a few functions with a beautiful brunette on his arm. But that was enough to stir gossip, especially considering his newlywed status and that he was supposed to be in mourning.
Blake shut his eyes tightly, trying to force the horrible memories out of his mind. The torture, beatings, everything he’d endured at the hands of the criminals fell away at the memory of his wife’s sobs.
And now he was asking her the impossible. To forgive him.
Blake pushed off the door and ventured down to his study. He couldn’t spend another moment alone with his thoughts. He needed to work.
He went downstairs and buried himself in his ledgers. If he was busy working, there would be no room for dark memories in his mind. Perhaps, for a few hours, he could pretend that the past didn’t exist.
* * *
Blake watched Annalise across the seat of a dimly lit carriage as she fidgeted and worriedly bit her lip all the way to Lady Lavinia’s house. She’d avoided him the entire day, and if it wasn’t for the theater outing, he wondered if he’d even see her today.
Annalise frowned, looking out the window. She didn’t share her troubles with him, but he knew she worried about what to tell her friend regarding the man she loved and his ultimate betrothal. She worried even more about how to broach the subject of the tragedy that had befallen their mutual friend.
