by Diana Bold
“What do you think?” He refused to let her make him feel guilty. She was his wife, and tonight he meant to have her. “I’m going to take a bath, Natalia. When I’m finished, I expect you to be waiting for me.”
Then he pushed away from the table and left the room.
NATALIA SAT ON THE edge of the immense featherbed in the green bedchamber, running a brush through her loosened hair. Her nerves were frayed to the breaking point, and she hoped this familiar routine would calm her.
It wasn’t working.
Every small sound made her jump, and she clutched the edges of her thick flannel nightgown more tightly around her throat. She’d worn the ugly prudish garment in an attempt to cool Dylan’s passion, but she knew her efforts would prove futile...
Perhaps she hoped they would prove futile.
The conversation she’d had with Clarice filled her mind. But the things her stepmother had told her seemed so strange. She still wasn’t sure how the whole thing could even be possible.
After a brief knock, Dylan slipped inside her room and locked the door behind him. She froze, the brush still tangled in her hair, her heartbeat accelerating at the sight of him.
Fresh from a bath, with his dark hair slicked back from his face, he wore nothing but a midnight blue robe. Belted at his lean waist, the heavy satin gapped to reveal a thin slice of his chest. She stared, mesmerized by all his silky golden skin. Realizing what she was doing, she looked away, jerking the brush free and taking a few strands of hair with it.
“You should have waited for me to answer the door.” She tried to make her voice cold and haughty instead of weak and needy. “It was very rude to enter without permission.”
He shook his head, refusing to be baited. His intense gaze never left hers as he strode toward her. “God, Natalia. You’re so beautiful. I’ve dreamed of seeing you like this, with your hair all loose around your shoulders.”
“Don’t do that.” Natalia felt breathless and uncertain, seduced in spite of herself. Was he lying or telling the truth? She didn’t know. Didn’t want to know.
“Do what? Compliment you?” He came closer, until he stood directly in front of her. So close his thighs brushed her knees. “You’re determined to make this as difficult as possible, aren’t you?”
“Why should I make it easy?” She tried to move back, but he leaned forward and trapped her with the seductive heat of his body. She inhaled deeply—a mistake, because he smelled wonderful. Clean, with the barest hint of sandalwood and something that went even deeper, something that was pure Dylan.
“Well, if you meant to make it hard, you’ve succeeded.” He laughed, a deep rich sound.
Her gaze flew to his, reading his silky amusement, yet unsure what she’d done to cause it. “What are you talking about?”
“Let me show you.” Holding her gaze, he lifted his hands to the belt of his robe.
She made a sharp shocked sound but couldn’t find the words to tell him to stop. After all, this was what she’d been waiting for, wasn’t it?
He hesitated, his gaze locked with hers. When she said nothing, he smiled and continued. As much as she feared falling under his spell, she couldn’t resist following the path of his large elegant hands. She watched as he untied the belt and the heavy material fell away. The fabric slid from his broad shoulders and pooled with a silky swish on the floor at his feet.
Then he stood before her. Naked. Proud. Aroused.
She stared, overwhelmed by his masculine beauty. His shoulders were immense, much broader than any gentleman’s should be. Fascinated, she let her gaze drift over the sculptured swells of his chest, and then drop to the muscled ridges of his flat stomach. He was lean in the hips—she skipped over what came next, not daring to let her gaze linger—and his legs were long, powerfully built.
Unable to resist, she glanced back up, focusing on the part of him that thrust from a thick nest of dark hair. Hard. Now she understood. Her limited knowledge of what transpired between a man and woman turned upside down.
“It will never work,” she whispered with complete certainty.
He chuckled. “Oh, love. It will work. I promise.”
Before she could protest any further, he reached for her hand. Holding her gaze with ferocious intent, he closed her fingers around his thick shaft.
They both gasped at the intimate contact.
She’d never thought it would feel like this, so incredibly hot and hard. It was also silky soft, vulnerable in some way. “You go too far.”
“No, Natalia.” He squeezed her hand more tightly. “I haven’t gone nearly far enough.”
She tried to pull away but only succeeded in stroking his thick length from base to tip. This seemed to inflame him even more. She could feel his pulse, thundering beneath her hand.
“Listen to me,” he whispered feverishly, all in a rush. “You know how much I want you. I think you want me, too. You can hate me later—God knows I deserve it. But for now, for tonight, can’t you love me just a little bit?”
Love him a little bit? As if she’d ever done anything by half measures. Therein lay the problem. She loved him far too much already.
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in the back of her throat. Lord, she was so lost. “Let go of my hand, Dylan.”
He shook his head, every muscle in his big body tensing, as though what she asked was physically impossible. Then, with a small, soul-deep groan, he let his fingertips slide from her wrist.
She supposed she should shove him away, order him out of her room, and tell him what she thought of him for forcing her to do such a vulgar, unprecedented thing. But she didn’t. It was enough to know he would have let her.
They might as well get this over with. At least then she wouldn’t have to worry and wonder any longer. And she had to admit she was curious. She wanted him; she always had.
So, instead of pulling away, she stroked him again, exulting in the look of pure bliss that settled upon his stark chiseled features. Her touch stunned him into immobility. For this moment at least, he was completely under her control.
She took the opportunity to examine his gorgeous body once more. This time, her gaze lingered upon a small imperfection. An ugly, six-inch scar slashed across his hipbone and the top of his thigh. Prince Nikolai Ivanovich’s work, she remembered, overcome with tenderness.
“My beautiful hero.” Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against the pale delicate line. He’d taken this at Balaklava, risking his life so someone else could live.
Dylan shuddered; the unexpected sweetness of her actions almost brought him to his knees. He’d never expected this, that she’d touch him so sweetly. She stroked him with gentle, untutored awkwardness, and it was the most exciting, arousing thing he’d ever known.
“Oh, Natalia,” he murmured, smoothing the dark hair from her temples. “You have no idea how good that feels.”
“I like touching you.” She blushed. His charming, virgin bride.
Reluctantly, he became aware of his selfishness. He should be pleasuring her, making this so good she’d let him repeat it on a regular basis.
He closed his hand around hers once more, but this time, he brought her fingertips to his lips and kissed her palm with lingering heat. Then he sat down on the bed beside her and pulled her into his lap. “Let me kiss you, love. I want to kiss you until the whole world falls away.”
“Yes.” She lifted her mouth to his. “Yes, I want that, too.”
He drowned in his wife’s warmth and sweetness, wondering how he’d ever find the strength to go slow. Kissing her was sheer bliss, but he wanted to do more.
So much more.
After an initial hesitation, she responded to him with all the fervor and passion he remembered. He knew how difficult it must’ve been for her to let go of her anger. Still, he was frustrated beyond belief. He didn’t want to hold back. He’d never been this aroused, and he hadn’t even touched her breasts yet...
God. He lifted one trembling hand to her flann
el-covered chest, lightly grazing her nipple through the thick fabric. She gasped, and her fingernails dug into his shoulders.
“Easy,” he whispered, touching her again. “Relax, love. I won’t hurt you.”
Gradually, she gentled her grip. He kept his touch light, letting her get used to his caress. At last, he slid his fingertips beneath the neckline of her gown and filled his hand with her voluptuous, quivering warmth. He moaned at the silky texture of her skin, such a contrast to the hardness of her nipple.
Breaking the kiss, he drew back the tiniest bit, just enough to catch a glimpse of her pale creamy flesh. He only allowed himself one glance, but even that sent a fireball of heat to his already painfully hard groin. Holding her gaze, he rubbed his thumb across her sensitive nipple.
“How does this feel?” His voice was low and rough with desire, barely recognizable.
Natalia’s pale skin flushed with healthy color and her emerald eyes were unfocused. She blinked at his question, not answering, but when he moved to her other breast and repeated the motion, a soft sigh escape her lips. “Good. So good.”
He grinned at her answer and slid the gown from her shoulders, baring her feminine curves to his hungry gaze. “I have never seen anything as beautiful as you.” He lowered her to the bed and then buried his face against her chest, smiling in pure bliss when she hugged him to her, instead of pushing him away.
For a long moment, he just lay there, with his head against the delicious softness of her breasts, trying to regain control.
Tentatively, she ran her fingertips through his hair. He shuddered, wondering how he’d ever lived without this. Turning his head, he captured her nipple with his mouth. Her gasp of pleasure was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
He sucked her with growing fervor, until she shifted restlessly against him, her movements compounding his pleasant agony. Perhaps she was ready.
If he went very slowly, if he was very gentle...
God knew, he was past the point of rational thought. He wanted to touch her, to see if she was wet for him. If she was...
He slipped his hand from her breast and started inching his way down her stomach, unbuttoning her gown as he went. At last, she was free of the hideous concealing fabric—her beautiful body bare to his hungry gaze.
Her green eyes were wide and uncertain, her mouth ripe with his kisses. Her dark hair tumbled across her shoulders, her breasts full and lush. He found her tiny waist, generous hips, and short slender legs incredibly perfect.
“My wife. My sweet lovely wife.” She was his, completely. No other man had ever touched her this way; no other man ever would. A surge of protectiveness overwhelmed him.
Natalia grasped Dylan’s broad shoulders, desperate to pull him even closer. He lowered his mouth to her breasts, and tendrils of his dark damp hair fell across her pale skin as he suckled her with tender passion.
She’d almost gotten over the newness of the exquisite sensation, had started to relax and simply enjoy it, when his hand began to roam over her body. Gently, he stroked her stomach and the upper curve of her thigh.
A soft gasp of dismay and delight escaped her lips as he delved between her legs, touching her in the most private place. She clenched her legs shut, resisting the invasion, but he persisted.
“Please,” he whispered. “Let me do this, love. Let me touch you all over.”
Unable to resist such a heartfelt plea, she let her thighs fall apart, allowing him to continue his sinful exploration. Somehow, her body had become damp and moist. His fingertips pressed deep within her. She moaned and pushed against his hand, seeking more, wanting something she couldn’t even name.
Then he brushed his mouth down her body, spreading sweet hot kisses everywhere his hands had been. His tongue swept across her core, and she cried out his name in alarm. She buried her fingertips in his hair, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. In the end, she could do nothing but ride the waves of pleasure that crashed over her.
Chapter Twenty-two
Dylan held Natalia while she recovered. Watching her face as she found release for the first time had been the most beautiful thing he’d ever known.
At long last, Natalia blinked up at him, her face flushed and her hair adorably disheveled. She touched his cheek, the emotion in her eyes making him feel as though he could fly.
“Did you like that?” His voice was rough and husky. He wanted her to know how good it could be between them, how much he wanted to break down her defenses. But he was far past the last vestiges of restraint. He must have her, now, or die in the attempt.
Natalia nodded, her eyes wide as an owl’s. “I had no idea.”
He gave a shaky laugh. “Just imagine how it will feel when I’m deep inside you.” Just saying the words sent a soul-deep shudder through his already overheated body.
She let her hand trail from his face to the upper contours of his chest. “I love the way you feel.”
He covered her hand with his own. “Then touch me again, love. I’m dying to feel your hands on me.” He held her embarrassed gaze for a moment, then closed his eyes and let go of her hand.
Natalia ran her fingertips over his chest and shoulders, gentle as a butterfly’s wings. The rapid cadence of his breath intensified to a harsh, uneven pant.
When he couldn’t stand her sweet torture any longer, he placed his hand over hers and guided her again to the place where he desperately needed her touch.
Her hand trembled, but she explored his rigid length, wringing a soft moan of need from his lips. She started to pull away, but he tightened his grip and showed her how to pleasure him. “Please. Like this.”
She got the hang of it in no time at all. He released her and fisted his hands in the blankets beneath him, while his body strove for release.
It embarrassed him a bit, coming now, but he realized it was better this way. They had all night, and he needed the edge taken off his desire. Orgasm ripped through him, turning him inside out with blinding intensity, and he spilled his seed in her hand.
“Did I hurt you?” Natalia’s horrified voice cut through the haze of bliss.
He managed to stir himself enough to open his eyes and look at her. “No,” he whispered. “Of course not.”
She waved her hand helplessly. “Then what’s this?”
He struggled to hide a weak smile. “That’s how babies are made, love.”
Pushing himself up on one elbow, he reached over and grabbed her hideous nightgown from the foot of the bed and wiped off her hand. “Do you want children?”
He liked the idea of her pregnant with his child. He liked it very much. The mere thought of having a family of his own made him weak with longing.
What transpired between them tonight could very well result in the son he’d secretly dreamed of for years. He would never make the mistakes his own father had made. He’d love his own children more than life itself. His throat tightened painfully as he waited for her answer.
“I don’t know.”
He could see all the old anger resurfacing. She wasn’t ready for this, and he cursed himself for revealing so much.
“Shh,” he whispered. “We’ll talk about all that later. For now, just let me make love to you.”
Natalia looked at her husband and nodded. She was no longer afraid. He’d done everything he could to make this easy for her. Now she ached for him to finish what he’d begun.
He was right. They had the rest of their lives to talk about the future.
He smiled and gave her a lingering kiss, while his hands once more worked their magic on her body. Before long, he was poised between her thighs and a heavy pressure replaced his fingertips.
“It might hurt a bit, but only for a moment, and just this once.” His face was full of concern as he worked himself against her, making her head spin with the strange feelings that had claimed her before.
“I’m ready,” she assured him, hoping it was the truth. She’d touched the satin length of him, felt its s
ize and power. Despite his reassurances, she still couldn’t see how this was going to be possible.
He dipped his head to kiss her again then thrust deep within her. The abrupt forceful motion rent her maidenhead and filled her completely. She cried out, stunned.
“Are you all right?” He held himself still, but his big body shook like a leaf in the wind. “God, Natalia. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right,” she whispered, trying to ignore the stinging pressure. “I’m fine.”
“Good.” He pulled back slowly and then thrust again, seeming to brush her very womb.
She sucked in a breath at the feel of him, seated so deeply inside her. She’d never known it would be like this—so primal, so intense. The pain eased, and as he began to move, a delicious friction grew between them.
“Put your legs around my waist,” he coaxed.
She did, granting him even deeper access to her body. She clung to his broad back as his thrusts became harder and faster, filling her entire world. There was nothing but Dylan, and the way he made her feel. She reached for the same pinnacle she’d known before.
Then her entire body convulsed in a shuddering explosion of sensation and emotion. She sobbed with the beauty of it, while Dylan shuddered deep inside her.
IN THE AFTERMATH, THEY held each other, their bodies so tightly entangled Dylan wasn’t certain where he stopped and she began. He felt strange, undone. But in a good way.
My wife.
A small smile tilted his mouth, and he pressed a tender kiss to her temple. Making love to Natalia had been everything he’d hoped it would be. She’d given herself with artless generosity, and hope swelled within him. How could she continue to hate him, when they shared this?
She stirred against him, and he ran his hand down the smooth contours of her back, trying to soothe her. She was bound to feel awkward after they’d been so intimate, and he wanted to forestall her withdrawal as long as possible.
Her hand drifted up his chest, and she tilted her head back so she could meet his gaze. “Oh, Dylan. You were so right to insist we do this.”
