by Jade Lee
His head came up sharply because, obviously, that couldn't be possible. How could someone knock on his window? But one look had him flying across the room to pull open the panes. Because there, flattened precariously across his window, was Gwen herself. At least she was dressed in a dark cloak. That was good for her reputation but did nothing for his heart.
"What are you doing?" he gasped. He didn't even wait for an answer but grabbed her around the waist and tried to pull her in head first. Sadly, she was larger than the window and at a bad angle, so he was completely ineffective.
"Edward! Edward, wait!"
He eased up his grip, though it terrified him to do it. Then she adjusted her body for her feet to slip in first. He guided her inside, supporting her back as she arched through the window. Then she was fully inside and he was holding her against him while his heart hammered in his throat.
"Gwen, don't ever do that again!" he said against her hair.
She wrapped her arms around him and snuggled close. "What? Hug you? Visit you?" She was teasing him, but he was still too terrified to laugh.
"Risk your life on my window. What if you'd fallen?"
"I would have caught my legs on the very strong, very sturdy low branch of that very conveniently placed tree." She pulled back far enough to look into his face. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled. She looked happy, and if he didn't kiss her soon, he would go mad. Meanwhile, she raised her eyebrows in mock anger. "So it's acceptable for you to risk your neck climbing my ivy, but I can't hop up a very nicely placed tree?"
"No." He kissed her forehead. "Never." Her nose. "You can't." Her cheek. Then he groaned and surrendered. He kissed her mouth, sinking into her as he had dreamed of nightly since he'd first seen her.
It was some time later before he forced himself to stop. She released a moue of regret that went straight to his groin, but he was a man, damn it. He would control himself!
"You know," she said as she rested her head against his chest, "that's hardly the way to discourage me from doing this again."
Which brought his mind back to the situation at hand and not the glory of having her in his arms. "What are you doing here, Gwen?"
She chuckled and the vibration when straight through his body to his cock that had stiffened to the point of pain. "Isn't that obvious? I got tired of waiting for you to ravish me."
He groaned. This was exactly what he wanted, and yet, this was not at all how it was supposed to go. "Gwen, I will not dishonor you."
"Fine," she said with a low growl. She pushed away from him hard enough that he was forced to release her. She stood before him like a painting he'd once see of Boudica, a warrior queen.
"Gwen, please. I am trying to—"
"Yes, I know what you're doing, but I have other plans." She planted her hands on his chest and pushed hard. He hadn't expected the movement or her strength, so he toppled easily backwards onto his bed. "I've come to dishonor you, Edward," she quipped as she stripped off her cloak.
Beneath it she wore a simple gown of palest blue. With the lamplight directly behind her, the gown was nearly transparent. He could see the outline of her body clearly, and his mouth went dry.
"I was trying to be patient," she said as she reached behind her to unbutton her gown. "But I soon realized that you had no intention of carrying through on your promise to ruin me."
"Of course I did," he managed. "But I was trying to—"
"Be honorable, court me properly, yes, I know." She rolled her eyes. "Which is when I realized that between you and my brother, it would never get done."
He straightened up to a seated position but that was all the movement he could do as she dropped her gown to the floor before pulling off her shift in one smooth movement. He should have said something then. He should have stopped everything right there, but he couldn't form the words to speak. He just looked at her, at her golden skin and full breasts. At the dusky areola's of her nipples and the curving indent of her waist. Her hips were perfect and the coil of curls between her thighs was mesmerizing. That she still wore her stockings made his body tighten painfully in hunger.
God, he wanted her. But not this way. Not out of desperation.
"Gwen," he whispered, his voice painfully strangled.
"Why aren't you moving?" she asked, her voice almost too quiet to hear beneath the pounding of his heart.
He swallowed and forced himself to look at her face. He saw anxiousness in her expression. She was much more nervous than she appeared. So he closed his eyes and tried to regain some rational thought.
"Edward?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly with anxiety.
"Are you bored?" he abruptly asked. "Do you do this out of boredom?"
"What?" she cried.
He opened his eyes and reached for her. She was reluctant, already starting to fight him, so he pulled her to sit beside him. And then, because he couldn't stop himself, he tugged her close. Her body was softening as she slowly rested against him, but there was steel beneath.
"Why me, Gwen? Why have you chosen me? Any number of men would do this for you."
She curled into him. He was forcing her to confront her own actions and this was not something that was easy for either of them. But he needed the truth.
"Because you're the one who will do it right," she said.
"Right," he repeated dully. That wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. "What does that mean?"
He abruptly spun her around, dropping her onto his mattress. He followed her down, pressing his body weight into her. Her eyes widened with surprise, but there was welcome on her lips and for some reason that made him even angrier.
He pressed his groin hard against her pelvis. He was still fully clothed, though she was bare, and they both groaned at the exquisite feel of it all. "It's hardly something that can be done wrong," he said more harshly than he intended. "All I need do is impale you and do my business while you are still crying from the pain."
She paled at that, but her body was already opening for him. Her legs shifted to cradle him, and her heels dug into his calves. Lord, was she gripping him? He moved without intending to, thrusting against her.
"Is that what you want?" he rasped as he rammed against her again.
She arched against him, and he nearly released right there just from the sight. Her skin was so white and her hair was spread out on his pillow. She was beautiful and she was offering herself to him.
"Gwen!"
"Yes!" she cried. "Yes, I want that!"
He stilled. It took a massive effort of will, but if he continued like this, he would erupt in his pants like a teenager. "Why, Gwen? Why?"
She looked at him, her eyes tearing. He read fear there or perhaps it was desperation. Either way, she was able to push through it enough to snap at him. "Because I love you. There! Is that what you wanted to hear? I love you, and I want you to ravish me so that you will be forced to propose again."
It took a long moment for her words to penetrate his thoughts. She loved him. She loved him! The knowledge robbed him of breath. It stole all his thoughts from him except for the desperate need to touch her, to adore her, to bind her to him so tightly she could never flee.
So he kissed her. He possessed her lips as if his life depended on the connection between their mouths. He thrust his tongue into her, he teased and stroked her without stop while he stripped out of his clothes. It wasn't easy to do, but she was helping. And when he finally broke away so that he could strip out of his trousers, she was as breathless as he.
Until the moment he stood before her naked. He was trying to hold himself back. He didn't want to land on her like a raving beast. So instead he stood there, rigidly still while her eyes slowly inspected him from head to toe. Down went her gaze all the way to his feet, then back up until she stared at where his cock stood stiff and proud.
"Are you sure, Gwen?"
She nodded, not taking her eyes off his shaft.
"We could wait until—"
Her gaze
hopped to his face. "I am not a very patient person, Edward."
He smiled. "As you command."
Then he began.
Chapter 12
He hadn't said he loved her. She had told him, but he hadn't said anything back. What had happened was that his eyes had gone dark, his nostrils had flared, and his entire body had shifted to an intense, intimate place. As if she were everything to him. And when he kissed her with such passion, she believed it.
But he hadn't actually said that he loved her.
That one thing was extremely important to Gwen... for about three seconds. The minute he'd started kissing her, all those thoughts had slipped from her mind. It was her and him together. Finally!
And then he had begun taking off his clothes. She had never seen a fully naked man before. She'd imagined it, of course. She'd imagined him like this before. But it was nothing close to what she'd expected. She had pictured him as an Adonis, a Greek statue standing chiseled and proud.
But instead, he was alive. His body was more lean than bulky, his skin warm and vibrant as he moved toward her. And as for his organ, it was huge. Not grotesque huge, but large and full and with a red head that seeped. The idea of that entering her was both titillating and frightening.
Then he'd asked if she was sure. She'd answered out of reflex. Of course she was sure when she absolutely wasn't. Except it was Edward who was asking. And he was the man she loved. So when he joined her on the bed, she shifted over to accommodate him. But she didn't shift very far, so within a moment she was stretched along his glorious side. Skin to skin, heat in a delicious pattern of hills and valleys. She wanted to feel every inch of him against every inch of her.
But she had on her stockings, and so she leaned down with a curse to take them off. He stopped her.
"No, please. Leave them."
She straightened, startled. "You like them?"
"You have no idea," he answered.
"But I want to. To know, that is. I want to know what you like and why."
He grinned and his entire face turned boyish with delight. "You are a wonder, sweet Gwen. And yes, I will tell you all those things but not now. Not..." He stroked his finger across her cheek, his expression becoming his serious as his eyes took on that intensity she so adored.
"Not tonight?"
"Not for your first time." Then he surged upward, rolling her over in a powerful display that thrilled her down to her toes. He did not always seem strong, but at moments like this, he showed her that there was more to him than she first imagined.
He was pressing her into the mattress, using his weight to pin her down. She went willingly, loving this part when she felt like a fragile damsel and he, her devoted knight. But then make-believe disappeared as he hovered over her face.
"I love you," he said.
She blinked stupidly at him because she had stopped expecting those words from him. "What?"
He smiled. "So we're clear, Lady Gwendolyn. I love you. And you love me."
He said it like an order and she laughed at the seriousness of it all. She tried—for his sake—to remain solemn, but the bubbly happiness inside her would not be held back. "I do love you," she answered before he could misunderstand. "And I want—oh!"
What she wanted was lost as his hand found her breast. He shaped it, narrowing his fingers until he pinched and rolled her nipple. Her eyes drifted closed and she couldn't catch her breath.
"You were saying, Lady Gwendolyn? You what? Did you want something?"
He was teasing her, but two could play that game. He was pressing her down, but she could still work a finger or two between their bodies to where his organ lay eager for her. Or that is what she thought it meant when she stroked the moisture on his tip.
He gasped and pressed hard against her. She loved it when he did that. But not against her hip. She wanted him somewhere else.
"Edward—" she began, but he shook his head.
"I think the time for talking is done." Then he lowered his head to her nipple. He pulled her in, sucking there where her body shuddered with awareness. And while her mind was occupied with those sensations, his hand slipped down across her belly.
He had touched her between her legs before. He had done so much there before, so she had no resistance when his fingers slid between her thighs. His stroke was confident and she arched into his touch, lifting a knee to give him better access. What he did was so wonderful.
He knew just what to do, and she abandoned herself to the sensation. He stroked her at that place that made her entire body stand to attention. Every tiny piece of her lifted and stretched with his caress. Her legs opened, his hand touched her everywhere, and still he rubbed her with his long finger.
She trembled, her body coiling tighter with everything he did. Then he pushed his finger inside, delving in a way that had her opening her eyes with a gasp. But he didn't stop. Thank God, he didn't stop! The push and pull, thickness inside only to be pulled out in a long glide over that place up high. Again and again, while his tongue mirrored his movements in her mouth. Only this time, it was two fingers. Stretching her open. Rubbing higher up.
Push in. Pull out. Her belly quivered, her hips canted down against his hand as he withdrew. Then she felt him shift, his organ pressing between them.
She knew what was coming next. She'd asked plenty of questions of her married friends. But she also knew this was how to have a baby, so she fought for control of her thoughts.
"The French letters..." she began.
"I know," he said. He was already sitting up and pulling open a drawer in his dresser. She watched fascinated as he covered himself.
"I want children," she abruptly said, looking up into his face. "Not now, obviously, but I do want them. But you have to know. My mother..." She bit her lip. She had to tell him the truth. "I think her weakness is because of my father. Because of his whoring and he's mean to her sometimes. But Robert says it could be passed to our children. It worries him."
She watched his face closely for his reaction. His smile was genuine and the tenderness in his touch when he caressed her face relieved all her fears. "I want children, too," he said. "And I think there is madness in every family of one sort or another. We shall manage it as best as we can. I would never abandon you to handle it alone. This I swear."
She felt her eyes water with tears. She hadn't even known the fear was there until he removed the burden of it. She wouldn't have to face the future alone. He would be with her.
They kissed, their mouth fusing in perfect accord as he shifted his weight on top of her. She welcomed it. She cradled his body even as he pressed his organ to her opening. It was thick and felt odd.
She broke their kiss to better focus on what he was doing as he settled between her legs. His organ was first too high, though delightfully hard, then right there at her opening. Right there. Pressing slowly into her. It wasn't uncomfortable. In truth, it was interesting more than anything else, so she lifted her knees to seat him more strongly.
A little. A little more.
He was taking his weight on his arms, and when she looked into his face, his eyes were closed and teeth were clenched as if he were in pain.
"Edward?"
"I am trying... to do this... right," he said.
She squeezed her thighs against his, trying to help steady him. His breath caught and his hips jerked, pushing him deeper inside her.
"Oh!" she cried.
"Pain?"
"No. Just... oh." She had no words to describe the sensation of fullness, of invasion. And yet she didn't dislike it.
Then he pulled out. She exhaled in relief and disappointment. How could she feel both at the same time? But then there was no more room for thought as he slid back in, a little deeper this time.
She liked that. She liked the shift and change. Out. Then in.
Out.
Then a full thrust!
A flash of pain, like a bolt of lightning though her body. It was startling. And it hurt! She m
ust have cried out. She must have because her mouth was open and her breath was stopped hard in her chest. But her attention was lower down where he was inside her. And strangely, it didn't hurt so much anymore.
"Gwen?" His lower body was completely resting on her and he was so large inside her. "Gwen, love—"
"I'm fine. I'm fine."
"Take a moment," he said, his voice nearly shaking.
She nodded, and saw his eyes nearly roll back in his head. "Am... am I ruined now?" she asked.
He lowered slowly down to lie on her belly. Then he pressed a light kiss to her lips. "Completely ruined."
"Oh good. Does it get better?"
He exhaled slowly, then shifted enough to drop kisses to her cheek, along her jaw line, and then to her ear. "Much better," he said. "But you must stop me if it still hurts. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she whispered. "But... will it?"
He didn't answer except to slowly withdraw from her. She gasped, not in pain but in awareness. It felt... nice. In fact, it was beginning to feel very nice as he slid back in, slow and full until he could grind against her.
Oh! That was very nice!
And as he began his motions again, she started to shift with him. She let him pull away, but as he thrust forward again, she arched into his stroke. The impact sent shooting sparks through her mind and her belly began to tighten with hunger.
This part she recognized. But it was so much better because he was there with her. He was sharing it with her.
She looked into his eyes only to find him looking back with such joy. She didn't know how she knew. His face was flushed, his breath coming in short pants. His eyes were even fluttering a bit as his body tensed.
She knew he was close, as was she. It was there in every beat of their hearts. But there was so much more. Joy. Love.
He loved her.
She loved him.
And then...
Oh yes!
* * *
