The thought made her miss a step and he sighed, his gaze apologetic.
“Listen, you’re obviously exhausted and it’s been a very long day. No one would think it exceptional if you retired to bed. I’ll make your excuses and see you in the morning.”
She blinked at him. Do not cry. DO NOT CRY.
He frowned. “Caroline?”
“It’s our wedding night, Stephen.”
“I’m one hundred percent aware of that fact.”
Her laugh sounded brittle as broken glass. “Surely a little early in the marriage to be tiring of me, don’t you think?”
Stephen sucked in an audible breath and his eyes darkened to nearly black. All at once he pulled her closer. Perhaps not so tired?
“My dear wife,” he said, his teeth scraping her earlobe until she shuddered, “if you wish it, I am more than ready to see to this particular husbandly duty. Perhaps we should both retire. At once.”
Chapter Eleven
“Stop being foolish. You can do this.”
Caroline stared in the looking glass and tried not to shudder at the reflection. Face snow white with delightfully contrasting dark circles under her eyes, clenched fists with palms sporting fingernail grooves, hair sticking to the light perspiration now coating her neck. Plus the diaphanous jade-green silk and lace nightgown which had seemed so sexy and alluring in its tissue-lined box, currently strained over her overblown breasts and hips in a way that was positively embarrassing.
She was about to make a right fool of herself. This would definitely be the worst wedding night in the history of the world. Even after Mama’s detailed talk, she still felt like she was running along a cliff top wearing a blindfold. Sure, Stephen kissed like a dream and seemed to like the way she kissed him back, but what about the rest? How long would it take? Was she supposed to lie there and let him do whatever he wanted or could she — should she — touch him also? Exactly how badly did it hurt when a man took a woman’s virginity?
A low, frustrated shriek escaped. Oh, how she hated not knowing. But the only person who could teach her was Stephen and that would require admitting total ignorance, like announcing with drum rolls and fireworks exactly how nervous and vulnerable she felt right now. Which would never, ever do.
“Caroline?”
She nearly jumped a foot in the air. Behind her Stephen stood framed in the doorway connecting their bedchambers, wearing a luxurious-looking heavy black silk robe and appearing so damnably relaxed she wanted to kick him.
“Y-yes?” she replied, hating the catch in her voice.
Her husband strolled forward, hands in pockets. Seemingly casual and unthreatening, but there was something altogether predatory in the movement too.
“Don’t be nervous,” he said softly, standing so close behind her she could feel the heat radiating from his body and his breath on her shoulder.
She shivered, and another mist of perspiration settled on her skin, raising the hairs on her arms and peaking her nipples. “Th-that’s fine for you to s-say. You’ve actually done this before, lots of times,” she replied hotly, reluctantly meeting his nearly black gaze in the mirror.
Something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone before she could identify it. Then his hands clamped on her hips, pulling her back against the warm, uncompromising solidness of his chest. Oh God, the stupidly thin fabric of her nightgown, even his robe was no match for the thick hardness pressing against her bottom and he was damned bloody huge.
There was no way in hell this was going to work.
“It’ll be fine, I promise,” he said, his voice rough. “I won’t do anything until you’re ready. Until you beg me to fill you.”
“Beg? Ha. It will be a cold day in hel…ohhh,” she finished, annoyed at her own weakness as his hands slid up her ribcage to play with her breasts, stroking and plucking the rapidly hardening nipples through the thin lace. Her head fell back and he immediately took the opportunity to nip and lap that oh-so-delicious spot where her neck met her shoulder. Curse her traitorous body which had been anticipating this moment since the day they’d met. Her body didn’t care a fig that he didn’t love her, but craved to feel his skin next to hers with no shirts or stays or restrictions of any kind in the way.
For what seemed like hours he attended to her nipples and neck. Tormenting and teasing until it felt like they were directly connected to a spot between her legs which was pulsing and burning and becoming so damp she could actually see a faint mark forming on the silk of her nightgown.
Caroline squirmed in embarrassment. But instead of stopping, one hand slid around her waist to clamp her more firmly against him while the other inched its way past her hips and down her leg until it could lift the fabric and stroke her skin. Stephen’s fingers moved back and forth, tracing the lightest of patterns on her sensitive inner thigh. Agonizingly close to a spot screaming to be rubbed, but maddeningly never quite reaching it.
He grasped her nightgown in his hand and pulled it upwards until the musky-scented, glistening blonde curls between her legs were exposed. Oh God.
“Hold this,” he said gruffly.
“I can’t. It’s…”
“If you want me to touch you where you’re dying to be touched, you’ll hold it.”
Mortification scorched its way across her cheeks, but eventually she closed her eyes, grabbed the silk and bunched it at her waist. “There. Happy now?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Open your eyes and watch me. If you don’t, I’ll stop.”
Her body’s demands too powerful to ignore, she lifted her chin and obeyed, soon transfixed by the utterly wanton image in the looking glass. Amusement touched Stephen’s lips and she wanted to slap him, but then his knuckles brushed her tight nether curls and she moaned instead. Slowly, gently, he parted the crisp hair until it revealed the secret pink flesh beneath, now coated in creamy wetness.
“Perfect,” he murmured, but any words she might have replied were lost when he began caressing her. Up and down, side to side, the pads of his fingers danced across her burning, aching center. It was exquisitely pleasurable, and yet she found herself yearning for so much more.
Caroline’s hips flexed and rotated of their own volition, the fervent plea her mouth refused to make, but for once he didn’t hesitate or use it against her. Merely pushed a finger all the way inside her, while lightly rubbing a spot nearby with his thumb that made her pant. This felt even better, so damned incredible she moaned again, about ready to promise him anything, forever, when he began to withdraw it.
“No!” she protested sharply.
“Patience, wife,” Stephen replied lazily as he started a wicked game of advance and retreat. Now two fingers moved in and out of her soaked channel, unhurried to start then faster and faster while his thumb pressed harder on that magical spot, hurling the tension to breaking point.
She couldn’t bear it a moment longer. Writhing, sobbing, she ground against his hand, willing him to help her over the edge. And finally it happened. An ecstasy she’d never dreamed existed, where every muscle tightened and hot, powerful pulses of pleasure tore through her body, making her scream. Luckily Stephen had the foresight to clamp his free hand over her mouth and muffle the sound, stopping everyone within a two mile radius from running to investigate.
Oh God, oh God, oh GOD.
Boneless, Caroline sagged against him, but instead of letting her rest, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the countess’ wide four-poster bed. Seconds after settling her on the soft linen sheets he made short work of her nightgown, tearing the delicate fabric in half. Untying the sash he shrugged off his robe, and for the first time she saw his erection, huge, hard and jutting out from a nest of black hair.
Gulping, she tentatively reached out a hand to touch it, but he stopped her.
“No,” he said so roughly it somehow
took all sting from the rejection. “I want to be inside your beautiful body when I come, and I’m damned close right now.”
Sitting up, Caroline took his face in her hands and brushed her mouth against his. Stephen made an earthy, growling sound and soon he was practically devouring her, crushing and nipping her lips, plunging his tongue into her mouth. Yet even that wasn’t enough, and with a muffled expletive he cupped her breasts, bending his head and alternately scraping the engorged nipples with his teeth and sucking each deeply into his mouth.
He was merciless as he took from her, yet pure feminine power surged at his reckless hunger, too. Yes, she’d been humbled with ecstasy and he didn’t love her, but right now his glittering gaze, tense shoulders and fierce kisses made it brutally obvious he wanted her, and that was something. She pulled away and balanced on her elbows, deliberately letting her legs fall open. For once unashamed of her voluptuous curves.
“Then do it, husband.”
Something wholly primitive flashed in his eyes, but he nodded curtly.
“I’ll try to be as slow and gentle as I can, but there’ll still be some pain. Unavoidable unfortunately.”
“I know. What…what do you want me to do?”
“Lie back,” he said grittily. “Spread your thighs a bit more. That’s it.”
Caroline nodded and took a deep breath.
“I’m ready.”
Stephen knelt between her thighs, leaning down to again stroke and play with her hot, wet center. She whimpered as the still-sensitive flesh sparked to life, spilling more creamy moisture onto his fingers. Then he took his length in his hand and began to penetrate her. Despite her wetness and his measured pace, discomfort kicked in immediately and she winced, blinking dewy eyes at him. But he pressed on, his clenched jaw and rigid shoulders revealing exactly how much control he was exercising as he smoothly inched his thick hardness further into her tight, untouched passage.
“I’m sorry,” he ground out, but before she could answer he pulled back and rammed forward.
Caroline involuntarily shrieked as shocking, horrible pain, like she’d been torn in two, ripped through her wide open body, and she dug her nails so hard into her knees they drew blood. Oh, this was awful. No wonder matrons chose to sleep in separate wings and endorsed mistresses. How on earth could any woman bear it? Doing this over and over to get with child? The earlier part had been wonderful, she couldn’t deny that, but this, dear God, never again.
Tears gushed down her cheeks even as she realized he had paused.
“It won’t ever be like that again, I swear,” Stephen said softly, squeezing her hand while panting with the effort of not moving. Then, very, very carefully he rolled his hips. “Does it still hurt?”
Her first instinct was to scream ‘yes!’ in the hope he would hastily withdraw and leave her alone. But innate honesty forced her to admit that while she felt stretched and full beyond belief, the initial biting pain had dulled.
“It’s not so bad now,” she choked out, one hand lifting to dash the tears from her no doubt hideously blotchy face. She’d never been an adorable crier, this was just compounding her humiliation.
“Good,” he said, clearly relieved as he began to move again, in and out, in and out.
Caroline wrinkled her nose in concentration as a new sensation battled the discomfort. Now she felt restless, like she wanted to move too. Experimentally she rocked her hips, stifling a smile as her internal muscles shimmied and Stephen’s breath hissed between his teeth. Hmmm. That felt all right.
She tried it again, this time adding a circling motion.
Oooooh.
Over and over she circled and rocked, her body finding its own rhythm as Stephen’s thrusts became harder and deeper. Oh my, yessssss. This angle forced his groin firmly against her mound, reigniting the delicious, tingling feeling. But she needed something more.
“Faster,” she whispered.
“What?”
“I need…faster.”
“Your servant, ma’am,” he replied, actually smiling as he sank fully inside her then swiftly withdrew, setting up a gorgeous, slick friction that had her body singing.
“Close, so close,” she gasped, and as if he understood, he reached down and stroked between her legs while pistoning in and out of her soaked sheath. Without warning her world splintered, and she cried out as ecstasy again buffeted her body, even stronger than before.
Seconds later Stephen almost froze, then a low, harsh sound escaped him as his body jerked and spasmed so his seed gushed inside her.
He slumped forward and she pulled him tightly against her, liking his heavy weight. Forget what she’d thought earlier, nothing would ever top making love with her husband in terms of sheer magic. Doing that every night would be a necessity. Surely something so blissfully perfect, where they were so wonderfully in tune with one another, could only result in him eventually loving her in return. No doubt other matters would be far better between them too, and in the morning they could lie here enveloped in these cozy blankets and discuss everything that needed to be discussed.
Sighing in bliss, Caroline turned her cheek into the soft down pillow, yawned and promptly fell asleep.
***
Caroline had succumbed to slumber in record time, but relief swiftly replaced any pique. It would be a lot easier to return to his chamber now. He certainly had a lot to think about, and apparently thinking couldn’t be done whenever he was in close proximity to her perfect, lush body.
No one possessed a figure like hers, such long, strong legs, ripe, strawberry-tipped breasts, narrow waist and flaring hips. He’d nearly climaxed several times in front of the mirror just watching her surprise, her lust, her unashamed pleasure as he’d first toyed with her neck and nipples then plundered her dripping, fragrant center until she came. But despite the nigh-on unbearable temptation to fall to his knees and suck her swollen clitoris, to lap up all that sweet musky cream, the urgent demands of his stone-hard cock took precedence and he’d just about thrown her onto the bed in his haste to be inside her.
He’d never actually bedded a virgin before. All his previous lovers, young widows and high-end courtesans mainly, were vastly experienced. Knowing exactly what to do and when. Yet he couldn’t remember ever being as hard or so on the verge of completely disgracing himself simply from fingering and stroking a woman.
When he’d actually taken Caroline’s virginity, he’d hated hurting her, but he’d never felt more possessive in his life. Knowing that no other man had been or would be where he was. Knowing she now belonged to him. And the way her wet, glove-tight sheath had gripped and milked him until he’d spurted what felt like gallons of seed…
Stephen grimaced as his cock twitched, reminding him exactly how much it really liked its present location and how good it would be to have her several more times. Idiot appendage. He needed to get the hell out of here before Caroline’s sated sleepiness wore off and she woke up sore and remembering he’d made her cry and lose control.
Reluctantly easing himself out of her heat, he stepped back onto the carpeted floor. Gathering his discarded robe he moved soundlessly to the connecting door between their chambers, shut it behind him then slumped onto his huge bed. Indeed, getting Caroline with child would be no hardship whatsoever. It was everything outside the bedchamber he somehow had to try and navigate.
When bright rays of mid-morning sunshine burst into his room he was still staring at the ceiling. He summoned Daniels to dress and shave him, the canny valet swift and silent after observing his black scowl and smartly deciding it wasn’t the time for chirpy banter.
Eventually Stephen made his way downstairs, the delicious scent of breakfast luring him into the secondary dining room. A small banquet lay waiting — crisp bacon, coddled eggs, kippers, thin slices of rare beef, and toasted bread—and his stomach rumbled.
“My word, darling, I h
eard that from the hallway. Anyone would think you hadn’t been fed in at least a week!”
Stephen glowered at his mother as she breezed into the room and helped herself to a plate of coddled eggs and toast. Another morning chirper.
“Feels like it’s been a week. I missed supper last night.”
Jane’s cheeks went pink. “Yes, well, I believe by now everyone in London will know exactly how you spent your evening. The two of you weren’t exactly discreet in retiring from the ballroom.”
“If others would prefer to spend their wedding night talking to people they have little time for, dancing or playing whist that is their prerogative.”
“Excuse me, my lord,” interjected a footman from the door. “The post is here, and Cook wants to know if the countess will be joining you and the dowager. Is there anything her ladyship particularly likes for breakfast?”
Stephen frowned as the young man placed his letters on the edge of the table. Hell, he didn’t even know that very basic detail. Wait on, Caroline had a decidedly sweet tooth. Pastries and a bowl of chocolate? Toasted bread with strawberry jam and a cup of hot tea? Then again, perhaps she preferred plain fare in the morning.
“Lady Westleigh is resting at present and is not to be disturbed,” he replied in a clipped voice, annoyed at his own lack of knowledge. “When she rises she may come down here or request a tray, but in either case Cook will prepare whatever she wants. Is that clear?”
“Yes, my lord,” the footman said, scooting from the room.
Watching the servant’s departure, he nearly missed his mother slip a letter from the pile of mail into the folds of her lavender morning dress.
Cutting a large piece of bacon, he stabbed it with his silver fork and devoured it. “Secrets, Mama?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did you turn lunatic at the milliner’s again and now hold in your hand the kind of bill I’m not going to like?”
“Don’t be silly, darling. After your last chest-beating tantrum I’d hardly do that.”
To Love a Hellion (The London Lords Book 1) Page 14
