Hell's Wedding Bells: (Novella) (Devilish Debutantes Book 7)

by Annabelle Anders

  “Blast.” He froze and hovered.

  He’d taken her too quickly. He wasn’t so oblivious as that. What if he were to move again? Should he pull back? It might cause her more pain.

  Guilt hit him when he opened his eyes and saw tears rolling down the sides of her face onto the pillow. “Lila,” he whispered, feeling as though he ought to call her by her title. Place ‘Lady’ before it at the very least. “Are you all right?” He began pulling away, but her hands clutched at him tightly.

  Okay. No moving.

  “Lila?” he asked again.

  Her lashes fluttered and then eyes the color of the ocean on a sunny day gazed up at him.

  She did not appear to be devastated or tortured. Although the tears continued to fall, she smiled. And then laughed. “That was it, was it not?”

  What was what?

  “We have done it?” she clarified.

  Which nearly had him laughing. Instead, he merely nodded. “Your father cannot charge me with failure to consummate.” The words were so ridiculous, and her relief so obvious, that he couldn’t help but smile back at her.

  But there was more. So much more. He held himself in check so that she could grow used to his intrusion.

  “I’m going to begin moving again.” He stared at her lips, swollen from his kisses, and then back into her eyes. His own need demanded he get back to business.

  She nodded. “But,” her voice caught him just as he went to pull back, “slowly?”

  In answer, he captured her lips again and slowly slid his tongue past her teeth once.

  And then again.

  She nodded.

  He pulled back less than an inch and then crept forward again. She did not close her eyes this time, and neither did he. He would watch her, follow her signals as he gradually increased the depth and pace of his strokes.

  Her eyelids grew heavy, and Vincent could hold back no longer.

  He reached for her hands and lifted them to the bedframe. “Place your hands here.” He wrapped her fingers around the cool metal.

  He’d not had a woman in nearly four months. She was his wife.

  She was his.

  He’d all but bought and paid for her.

  Frantic with lust, Vincent finally allowed his cock free rein, driving and shoving himself to completion. Just before he was about to spend, she convulsed and cried out.

  Deeper. Again deeper.

  His release came in an explosion of red and white light. He emptied himself inside of her, prodded one last time, and then collapsed as though boneless.

  Lila edged herself out from beneath the hulk of a man who slept atop her, dislodging his member in the process. She felt sticky, shaky, and not at all certain that any of that had been what she’d expected.

  Some aspects had been so very tender and sweet, and then others had seemed almost violent. In the light of the lantern, she stared at him and wondered who he was. His skin shone almost golden, shadows and ridges creating a myriad of swirls over his skin.

  Sliding her feet to the floor, she winced. Blood and… something else. His seed. No maid would ever discover these sheets. In the morning, Lila would change them out for one she’d stuffed into her bag.

  She’d have evidence. Just in case.

  She could not trust her father.

  As she stood, her muscles protested, and twinges from between her legs reminded her that she was no longer a maiden.

  She had… enjoyed it. Even when he’d seemed more animal than man.

  When he’d placed her hands upon the bars, she’d felt a moment of fear. But after that, she’d been grateful for something to hold her steady so that she could take him deeper and reach for him with… she didn’t quite know.

  But in the end, she could not deny her reaction to what they shared.

  Not at all what she’d expected.

  She tiptoed across to the tray of food she’d barely touched earlier and broke off a piece of bread. Dropping to the hard wooden chair, she bit into it enthusiastically.

  Now that it was over, her appetite had returned.

  Would he sleep through the night like that? Wearing nothing?

  He was quite handsome. In all her imaginings, she’d never suspected her husband would look like him. Her initial fiancé, although handsome and well-built, had been dark and not nearly as large.

  Pemberth was large.

  All of him.

  It had fit. He’d driven it in and out of her—that pulsing staff of rigid flesh.

  At first, it had seemed as though it would not fit, but then her body had adjusted… made room for him.

  And it had only hurt in those first few moments. After that, she’d felt it deep inside and she’d known a…

  Knowing.

  A belonging.

  She took another bite of the bread but slowed her chewing when he moaned and rolled over, exposing himself to her in the dim light. She’d known it wasn’t always erect but was still slightly surprised at the shriveled creature it had become.

  Lila obviously had a great deal to learn.

  “Are you well?” She’d been so intent upon the change in him that she’d not realized he was awake.

  Forcing herself to meet his gaze, she nodded.

  “I did not hurt you?”

  “Only a little.” She rose from her chair, wet a cloth, and crossed the room to hand it to him. “Do you mind if I change the sheet?”

  He’d taken the cloth without question but then glanced up curiously. He looked different to her but she wondered if it was her imagination. His lips seemed fuller, and she noticed tiny little lines at the sides of his eyes, as though he’d spent either a good deal of time out of doors or that he did, in fact, laugh.

  She hoped it was the latter. “There is more bread and butter.” Perhaps he’d worked up an appetite as well. “And some cheese… if you like.” How was it that he was a stranger, and yet…?

  “I didn’t hate it.” She would try to break through some of this awkwardness. “I thought I would, but I didn’t.”

  The man seemed to have not one iota of modesty. She’d expected that he would don his breeches once again and perhaps pull on his shirt, but he’d simply crossed to the tray and taken the seat she’d vacated.

  Stark naked.

  Although he’d pulled her gown over halfway up her body, he’d never removed it from her completely. A few damp spots darkened the material in some embarrassing locations.

  Around the bodice of the night rail and lower, where some of his seed had dripped.

  “I’m glad.” He spoke around the cheese he’d taken a bite of. And then an almost smile. “I did not hate it either.”

  Something in his look had heat rushing up her neck. What did a lady say in response to any of this? Did it matter, since she was his wife? Somehow, she didn’t think she could offend him in any way.

  He was unlike any noblemen she’d ever been acquainted with.

  “How long have you been duke?”

  His almost-smile disappeared completely, and his mouth set into a grim line. “Three months.”

  “I’m sorry.” Had his father been ill? Had it been sudden? That would explain his morose countenance. “Were you close to your father?”

  He tossed the hunk of cheese he’d been eating back onto the tray. “My father died over twenty years ago. My older brother held the title.”

  Lila had removed the sheet and was opening the much finer quality linen she’d removed from her bag. Without needing to be asked, he crossed to the other side of the bed and assisted her. Despite the nature of their conversation, she couldn’t help enjoying watching his muscles flex and strain beneath his skin.

  “I’m sorry,” Lila said again. “Was he ill?” Her curiosity got the better of her.

  “No.” Tight-lipped, he stuffed the linen beneath the mattress. “We’d best get some rest. I’d like to arrive at Glenn Abby before nightfall tomorrow. To do so, we’ll have to get an early start.” He’d thrown the patched counterpa
ne back onto the mattress and, without consulting her, extinguished the lantern.

  Lila climbed back under the blanket, careful to give him more than half of the bed.

  Overall, her marriage was a success.

  Her next objective: lower his defenses. After that, she could ask him about sending for Arianna.

  5

  A Wife in Truth

  Lila opened her eyes to a room that was not her own.

  This ceiling was much lower, cracked in several places and a dingy ivory. No large carved posts, no rose-colored velvet drapes.

  The realization of Lila’s new life dawned on her slowly.

  And yet, she realized as she turned her head, she had awoken alone.

  She was no longer a maiden. After six and twenty years, she’d finally given herself to a man, to her husband.

  Who was likely already growing impatient that she’d yet to have risen for the day. Lila glanced toward the bag she’d brought along with her. She should have removed the gown she’d intended to wear today and laid it out so it would not be wrinkled. She ought to have brushed out the one she’d worn the day before. Things Fran normally did but Lila had taken for granted. She’d have to remember to thank her maid when she saw her again.

  She’d not slept a great deal, far too aware of the man dozing beside her and today she would pay for her lack of sleep.

  Without a maid to assist her.

  Lazy. She chastised herself and climbed out of bed to tackle the business of dressing and preparing for another day’s travel.

  When she finally presented herself outside, she was disappointed to see that her husband had saddled his mount, leaving Lila to ride inside the coach alone again. She’d rather hoped to have some company today.

  She’d hoped he might seem friendlier.

  Catching sight of her, he nodded in approval, handed the mare off to a driver and covered the distance between them. “You’re prepared to travel?” His gaze flicked to her bag. “Did you get anything to eat?”

  She shook her head. She normally wasn’t very hungry in the mornings.

  “Calvin!” He waved a hand to the manservants who rode up with the driver. “Her Grace requires some rations to break her fast.”

  The day before, Lila hadn’t paid much heed to anything or anyone, she’d been so fraught with uncertainty. Today she took note of both the driver and the outrider. Both were similar in appearance, red-haired and burly. The driver, whom she remembered being addressed as Drake, appeared to be the elder of the two. Perhaps they were brothers.

  “I don’t normally eat much in the mornings.” Suddenly, she felt shy again. She might not have this chance again, however, anytime soon. “I was hoping you would ride with me today.” And then she bit her lip.

  With a glance over his shoulder, he studied his mount. And then his eyes shifted back to the carriage. “I usually ride.”

  “But we are newly married. I would like to come to know more about my husband.” And for some reason, she felt herself blushing again.

  Lila was not one to blush. She wondered when all of these unsettling emotions might settle down. Surely, they couldn’t last throughout the course of her marriage.

  Pemberth glanced over his shoulder again. Calvin was already emerging from the inn, a small basket in hand.

  And then Pemberth surprised and pleased her. “Very well. For a while, anyhow.”

  Excusing himself, he went to have a word with his outrider, took the basket from him, and returned to assist Lila into the carriage.

  If she was to endure another day in this Godforsaken vehicle, at least she would have company while doing so. She sat facing forward and her husband climbed in beside her.

  The interior shrunk with his presence, and Lila’s heart felt as though it skipped every other beat. Hopefully, this hadn’t been a mistake.

  As the carriage lurched into motion, Lila gripped the leather strap and turned herself to partially face him.

  He didn’t look at all comfortable. The bench seat hadn’t been built for a man of his size, and she ought to have perhaps considered this before posing her request. Irritating him was not going to get him to send for Arianna any sooner.

  “I’m glad it isn’t raining,” she began. Anything to fill the long silences he seemed to prefer. “You mentioned you were needed back at your estate. Do you have meetings?”

  Oh, but his eyes were such a light blue that they almost appeared silver. He shifted on the bench and turned to face her as well. He’d lifted one knee partially onto the upholstery, causing their knees to touch.

  Lila swallowed hard.

  “No,” he answered curtly.

  “Tell me about the duties that fill your time.” She played with the ruffle on one of her sleeves. Perhaps she appeared less attractive to him today. She’d been unable to affect the same neat chignon Fran had the day before and the pale blue traveling gown she’d donned was more wrinkled than smooth.

  He drew her attention back to his face when he let out a long sigh. “The Pemberth Dukedom. My estate.” And then, “Our estate.” He met her gaze steadily. “Is… not financially viable at this time. Tenants are quickly abandoning it for more lucrative prospects.”

  Lila processed such information. “So, my father did not pay you to marry me?”

  He was shaking his head. “He did not.” His answer came as a surprise. “I married you in order to pay off a debt. A debt incurred by my brother.”

  For some reason, this information deflated Lila more than she would have imagined. Had her father paid him to marry her, then he would have had some choice in the matter.

  Had the debt been his own, he would have still had some choice in the matter.

  But he’d had no choice at all.

  A gun might as well have been held to his head when he’d taken his wedding vows.

  Vincent could see she’d been unsuspecting of the true nature of their marriage. Although she’d been partially right, he supposed there were, indeed, some differences.

  She looked almost disappointed.

  “I am even more of a burden than I had imagined.” Her sunny outlook seemed to have vanished and some of the light left her eyes. Vincent didn’t know why it mattered. He hadn’t expected his wife’s emotions to affect him much at all.

  But…

  “I needed to marry anyhow.” Which was true, of course. And she had satisfied him immensely the night before. He reached out a hand and touched her knee in a few soothing strokes. “You are as good as any other.”

  Perhaps he ought to have phrased that differently.

  “I mean—”

  “No, I understand. It’s better than the last time. At least you did not marry a spinster to spite him.”

  Vincent shifted in search of a more comfortable position. “Is this damn carriage hitting every rock and rut in all of England?”

  She didn’t answer him, choosing instead to turn away and stare out the window. He felt like something of a jackass for speaking his mind so plainly.

  “You mentioned you were betrothed before.” Quimbly had been upfront about this fact but hadn’t explained why she’d been jilted. It had worried Vincent at the time but now, having seen her, he couldn’t imagine why the man had done something so dishonorable as to cry off and leave a perfectly fine young woman to suffer the consequences.

  Especially her. His cock stirred at the memory of the night before. He couldn’t remember ever getting so excited over any woman. Perhaps it was the novelty of having her for a wife…

  “I’ve convinced myself that Blakely was more reluctant to take on my father as an in-law than he was to take me on as a wife,” she answered without turning around. “My former fiancé married another before breaking it off. There are rumors…” But then she shuttered her gaze. “Both of our fathers tried to force Lord Blakely to honor the betrothal but, rather than do so, he eloped with another woman.”

  “Gretna?”

  “Yes. I’ve never seen her, but my father says she’s
hideous. Blakely is the heir to the Duke of Waters and, I’m told, chose to marry Miss Emily Goodnight, a bespectacled bluestocking, rather than be saddled with me.”

  Vincent rubbed his chin. “Definitely the father-in-law.” He slid her a sideways glance, hoping to lift her spirits. “His loss is my gain.”

  “Ha!” She turned skeptical eyes back on him, ignoring the window once again.

  Ah, yes. “As of last evening, I’m quite pleased to find myself saddled with you.” He allowed his gaze to rove down her neck, to her chest and waist. The fingers on his hand that remained on her leg began gradually gathering the material of her skirt, edging it upward.

  Her breath hitched.

  “Is it wise?” She took a guess at his intent. “To do it again so soon?”

  This gave him pause.

  “Are you sore?” She hadn’t acted as though she was tender, but how was he to know?

  She shook her head, eyes wide, but then answered, “A little.”

  “There are other things a man and woman can do.” They had a long distance to travel today with nothing for entertainment. The uncomfortable seats would make sleep nigh impossible.

  His fingers renewed their purpose, exposing toned calves hidden beneath woolen stockings. And above them, the softer and naked flesh of her thigh. In less than two minutes, he managed to have her sitting in a pile of her skirts, both lovely legs exposed for his enjoyment.

  “May I?” he asked with a cock of one eyebrow. She frowned in confusion but nodded.

  Later, he’d examine how she’d come to trust him so easily, but for now, he dropped onto the floor, kneeling before her. Small white teeth tugged at her bottom lip, sending what blood remained in his head to a much lower part of his anatomy.

  Using both hands now, he pushed her skirts higher.

  He’d not seen her last night. None of her, really. He’d touched her intimately, he’d driven his body into hers, but he’d not been able to enjoy her this way.

  “Lie back,” he ordered and as she did so, he lifted her knees and set each upon one of his shoulders.