The Christmas Rose: A Rogues & Gentlemen Novella

by Emma V. Leech

  “Do what?”

  “Ask me what I’m thinking.”

  Bunty swallowed, a little daunted now, but determined not to be silly. “W-What are you thinking, Ludo?”

  He leaned in and nipped at her earlobe, making her gasp, and then whispered in her ear. “I’m thinking I should like you to take your clothes off now.”

  Bunty blushed as an odd mixture of anxiety and excitement coiled low in her belly.

  “Oh.”

  “Mmmm,” he murmured, kissing a path down her neck before returning to nuzzle the tender spot beneath her ear. “I want to unwrap my prize.”

  “I thought you were nervous.”

  “I’m putting up a heroic fight.”

  “Oh. Well, go on, then,” she said, aware that she was breathless but impressed she’d got the words out at all.

  He took a step back and grinned at her before turning her around. She felt the brush of his fingers against the nape of her neck as he worked each fastening in turn and shivered. What clever fingers he had. He was far quicker than her maid, she thought, as her dress slithered to the ground. Bunty closed her eyes and wished she were slender. If only she’d known she was to marry such a man, she could have at least tried to lose weight, not that it had ever worked before. Oh well, it was too late now. She only hoped he wasn’t expecting too much. With a gasp, she realised he had worked even faster than she’d anticipated. She was clad only in her stockings and chemise, and Ludo was turning her back to face him. Panic struck her. She clutched her arms about her middle, wanting to hide as much of herself as possible. He would not allow that, though. He undid the tie of the chemise and gently moved her arms aside, before pushing the flimsy material down to join the rest of her clothes.

  Bunty squeezed her eyes closed with mortification and prayed he was not disappointed.

  ***

  Holy God and all his angels

  Ludo let out a ragged breath as he stared at his wife in wonder. You lucky bastard, Ludo. He had no idea what the devil he’d done to earn this astonishing gift, surely nothing in this lifetime, but he swore he’d do whatever it took to be worthy of it.

  He could hardly breathe. He longed to touch her but felt he ought not, as if it wasn’t his right, yet he was her husband. She was his wife. His wife! He blinked hard as a sudden surge of emotion caught him off guard.

  “Ludo?”

  He looked up, to discover Bunty peering at him from between her fingers.

  “Yes, love?”

  “I’m trying hard not to jump to the conclusion that you don’t want to touch me, b-but what is taking so long?”

  Ludo let out a bark of laughter and then forced his expression into something more solemn as she glared at him in outrage.

  “Forgive me,” he said, his voice low and gravelly as desire thrummed through him. “I was so overwhelmed by my own good fortune, I could do nothing but stare. My God, Bunty, how lovely you are. I cannot help but fear I shall wake up in the morning and discover the whole thing has been a dream.”

  She gave him a sceptical glance and wrapped her arms about herself again, a gesture he was recognising as a habit, and thoroughly disliked. He moved closer and took each wrist in turn, moving her arms aside, allowing him to stare down at a delicious landscape of full breasts and luscious curves. His mouth watered.

  “Don’t you dare try to hide from me, wife.” He released her wrists in favour of cupping her breasts and groaned as the plump weight filled his hands, heavy and ripe. “I do not understand how such a thing is possible, when everyone was so certain I’d go to the fiery pits, but I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said, laughing, though it was a nervous sound.

  Ludo looked at her curiously. “You have no idea, do you? You don’t have the faintest idea what the sight of you does to me?”

  She shook her head and Ludo smiled. “That’s all right, love. I’ll show you, but I tell you now, I’ve seen nothing as lovely as you in my whole life.”

  That he’d seen more than his fair share was something he didn’t mention. He did not doubt that she knew it.

  Ludo kissed her then, delighted at her eager response, that she remembered everything he’d taught her as she opened her mouth, her tongue seeking his. He kissed her until she was breathless and trembling, unable to still his wandering hands from exploring the silky skin exposed for his pleasure. Working his way down her body, he kissed her neck and shoulder, working lower with as much patience as he could muster until his hands and mouth found her breasts. He sighed happily.

  She gave a little squeak of surprise as his mouth closed over her, suckling at her breast with enthusiasm before moving to the other and lavishing the same attention there.

  “Oh,” she said, a wondering sound as her hands rested tentatively upon his hair.

  “So sweet, Bunty,” he murmured against her skin. “I just know you’ll be even sweeter elsewhere.”

  He got to his knees, pressing kisses over the soft swell of her belly and hips, moving lower as her eyes widened and her breathing grew fast. She gasped and squealed as he wriggled his tongue into her belly button and then laughed and he sat back on his heels to grin at her.

  “I love to hear you laugh.”

  “Really?” she asked doubtfully. “Is it appropriate at such a moment? I always thought… well… this was supposed to be serious, solemn.”

  Ludo pressed a kiss to her belly.

  “Sometimes, yes,” he said, savouring the feel of her skin against his cheek. “But there ought to be playfulness, too: fun, and pleasure above all things.”

  He held her gaze and moved lower, kissing the sensitive skin at the apex of her thighs. Her breathing hitched as he moved again, nuzzling the silky curls before parting the delicate folds that hid the little pearl of flesh he sought. With a sigh of pleasure he kissed her there, before teasing his tongue between the folds. She gasped and clutched at his hair.

  “Oh! Oh, my.”

  Ludo chuckled and settled to his work, licking and teasing until she was squirming, and he was forced to hold her still.

  “Oh, it was all true,” she murmured, though now she held him in place, her beautiful skin flushed with pleasure. “You are a bad, bad man. Dreadful. Utterly wicked….”

  “Yes, love, and all yours now,” he murmured before looking up at her, dazed with his good fortune.

  “All mine?” she repeated, as if she had doubted it.

  Ludo frowned and got to his feet. “I meant what I said, love. Forsaking all others.”

  A slow smile curved over her mouth and she flung herself at him, holding him tightly. Ludo savoured the moment, happy and a little bewildered that she had not expected at least that much from him. What a bad bargain she had been willing to strike. He could not comprehend why she would take such a chance, for she was not so foolish as to be dazzled by a pretty face alone. Well, whatever her reasons, he would do his best, in all things, which reminded him….

  He reached down and swept her up, laughing at the incredulity in her eyes as he lifted her with ease.

  “Goodness, you’re strong.”

  Ludo snorted. “You’re a featherweight, love.”

  She made an incredulous sound. “Oh, what a plumper. I certainly am not anything of the sort.”

  He tsked with impatience and set her down carefully on the bed, leaning over her. “I don’t know what kind of maggoty ideas you have in that head of yours. Though I suppose I ought to expect such nonsense from someone hen-witted enough to marry me, of all people, but let us dispense with this nonsense once and for all.”

  “What nonsense?” she said, eyeing him dubiously as he made his voice stern.

  “The idiotic notion you have about being too heavy, too big, too fat, or whatever preposterous ideas you have about yourself.”

  Her dark brows drew together, and she shook her head. “I know you’re being kind, Ludo.”

  “Damnation!” he said, throwing his hands up. “I’m not being kind,
you little widgeon. I mean… just look at you….” He did just that, his breath catching as his gaze travelled over her body, laid out for him on his bed, their bed. “You’re splendid, gorgeous, a bloody goddess, and I’m going to prove it to you.”

  ***

  Bunty stared up at him, astonished by the obvious desire in his eyes. He really meant it. He did not think her too tall, too plump, too… everything. Though she had never done so before, Bunty questioned why she thought she was. Well, because she’d been told so. Her mother was always imploring her to lose weight and father always looked disapproving if she ate a dessert. She’d been teased as a girl by those who were supposed to be her friends and she’d heard too many disparaging comments from men not to take them to heart, and yet….

  And yet Ludo, this big, glorious man, was looking at her as if she were the last cake in the world, and he was starving.

  It was rather… invigorating.

  He’d said she was splendid, gorgeous, a bloody goddess!

  For the first time in her life, Bunty rather thought she felt like one too.

  He’d also said he would prove it to her. She wondered just how he intended to do that, but then she realised he was taking off his clothes, and thought of any kind was suspended.

  He made rather a performance of it for her, sliding off his cravat and tossing it to her with a wink, before easing out of his coat. Slowly, he unbuttoned his waistcoat, his eyes never leaving hers, that heated and intense gaze making her insides quiver with anticipation. Once he cast it aside, he tugged the shirt from his breeches before pulling it over his head in one smooth movement.

  Bunty’s mouth went dry.

  If she was splendid, he was… magnificent.

  Big and broad, his shoulders and arms were impressive enough, and now she saw how he’d lifted her as though she’d been made of spun sugar. His chest, though…. Words failed her, though her fingers itched to touch him, to run her fingers through the fleece of coarse hair on his chest and touch the thick quilting of muscle beneath. The desire to rub herself against him like a cat was almost overwhelming, but then she realised he’d discarded his boots and stockings during her reverie, and his fingers had moved to unbutton the fall of his breeches. Bunty was riveted to the spot, filled with curiosity. She had seen the naked male form before, in sculpture at any rate. Not every figure had a strategically placed fig leaf, though she had always been a little underwhelmed by what she’d seen and wondered how that appendage had done the job required of it. All such questions were firmly—and appropriately—put to bed as Ludo pushed his breeches and small clothes to the floor, and kicked them to one side.

  “Goodness,” she squeaked.

  Ludo smirked at her, and she covered her mouth with her hand as a giggle escaped.

  He tilted his head to one side, narrowing his eyes.

  “Are you laughing at me?” he demanded with mock outrage.

  “N-No.”

  “You’re a terrible liar.”

  “Oh, I’m s-sorry,” she managed, struggling not to laugh. “Only you looked so d-dreadfully pleased with yourself.”

  “And why not?” he demanded, his dark eyebrows flying up. “You were looking at me in a way that made me feel about ten feet tall.”

  Bunty sighed as he moved closer. “You are rather splendid, Ludo. So handsome. Are you really mine?”

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “And there’s no changing your mind now, it’s too late. You’re stuck with me.”

  Ludo climbed onto the bed and lay down beside her, his head braced on his arm, his eyes warm and mischievous. He looked happy, and Bunty could not help but smile in return.

  “Good afternoon, Lady Courtenay.”

  “Good afternoon, my lord,” she replied politely, for all the world as if they had just greeted each other in the park.

  “May I debauch you now, my lady?”

  Bunty choked out a laugh, only to see him grinning at her with such a boyish gleam of amusement that she threw back her head and laughed again.

  “You’re dreadful!” she exclaimed, and then caught her breath as he climbed over her. He stared down at her, his blue eyes bright and glinting with desire.

  “Yes, and you like it, so you must be every bit as wicked. Let’s find out, shall we?”

  Bunty was only too happy to do so, sighing as he started where he’d left off. He kissed her everywhere, touching her reverently, caressing and painting intricate patterns with his tongue. The most shocking sounds were drawn from her until she was panting and clutching at the bedclothes, her skin damp as he returned to the sinful place between her legs and made her believe she might go mad as her body spun out of control. It was as though she had been an instrument, put away and forgotten, dusty and unused, and suddenly he had come to teach her how to play, for he seemed to know her body far more intimately than she had known it herself.

  She wasn’t even shocked when he slid a finger inside her; she only moaned her pleasure and revelled in the way he praised her for her lascivious behaviour. The louder she was, the better he seemed to like it.

  “Say my name,” he begged her, his voice husky as he slid another finger inside her and caressed until she saw stars. “I want you to come with my name on your lips.”

  She did not entirely understand what he was asking her for, but then he applied his mouth once more. Pleasure rolled over her, making her hold her breath as the onslaught became overwhelming. She clutched at his hair, at the bed, at anything that might keep her tethered to the earth for surely she would fly away.

  “Ludo!” she cried, her body arching, his name torn from her as waves of incandescent joy surged through her, over and over until she was sated, boneless, and utterly spent.

  She was only dimly aware of him kissing his way back up her body, and she blinked hazily at him as he settled between her legs. It was only as he slid that wicked, masculine part of him against her oversensitive flesh that she gasped, and her eyes flew open.

  “Now?” she said, a little stunned.

  “Definitely now,” he agreed, sounding strained and determined. “Unless…?”

  He hesitated, and Bunty laughed at the disappointment in his eyes.

  “Now,” she agreed, wrapping her arms about his neck.

  “Thank God,” he murmured, sliding his arousal against her in a slick glide that made her close her eyes, her head thrown back.

  Bunty moved her hands over his shoulders, glorying in the shift and play of powerful muscle and the damp silk of his skin. The coarse hair on his torso felt delicious against her breasts as he pressed closer, reaching between them to guide himself inside her.

  “Speak to me.”

  Bunty blinked up at him in bewilderment. He wanted conversation? Now?

  “Tell me it’s all right. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Oh.

  “Bunty?”

  “It’s all right. Don’t stop, it’s….” She sucked in a breath as she reconsidered that statement and he stilled utterly. For a moment, she breathed carefully around the strange sensation, and then she relaxed by degrees.

  “Better?” he asked, his voice strained.

  She could feel the tension singing through him.

  “Yes.”

  He moved again, cautiously, slowly, and Bunty stared up at him. He had his eyes closed, his face a picture of concentration. How beautiful he was, and how careful of her. He was tender and thoughtful and… and how had this man gained such a reputation? How had he become what he was purported to be? She could see nothing of that in him now. His eyes flicked open, dazzling blue and filled with triumph as he gazed down at her. Bunty smiled.

  “Better?” he asked again, his lips quirking.

  “Better,” she agreed, and then gasped as he tilted her hips and… oh.

  “Much better,” he said this time, and it wasn’t a question. He sounded rather smug.

  “Oh, yes… m-much….”

  Bunty wrapped herself about him and simply held on, clinging to his powe
rful frame as he taught her what pleasure was, what they could have together. And, oh, it was marvellous. His touch was careful, his attention on her absolute. At this moment, she hadn’t the slightest doubt she was the centre of his universe, and she wanted to be there always. The intimacy was astonishing, the closeness with this man she barely knew. Already, she felt he had sunk into her bones, into her soul. She did know him, didn’t she? At least she recognised his generosity, his kindness, and his willingness to share himself—both his faults and his strengths—and to bolster her own insecurities with his surety. Bunty was lost, drowning in him, in this man she had known so little but was falling for like a star plummeting to earth. His body made hers sing, made her feel right in her own skin in a way she’d never thought possible. No longer was she awkward and hiding herself, trying to disguise her curves, to diminish her height. He loved her body, that much was obvious from the way he was moving, every grunt of pleasure that made her skin prickle with awareness. She had never realised, never expected…. Her mother’s staccato, anxiety-laden words of advice for her wedding night had not given the slightest hint that this… this was even possible. Perhaps it wouldn’t be with anyone else but him, but it was him. He was breathing hard now, his movements erratic and harsh, wonderfully masculine sounds of effort and passion filling her ears as he shuddered, jerked, and spilled himself inside her with a hoarse cry that made her heart soar, and hope fill her to the brim.

  He collapsed on top of her with a groan, his chest heaving, his body slick with the effort of his exertions. Bunty lay pinned beneath him, feeling a little dazed and very feminine and… and almost delicate as his heavy body pressed her into the mattress. It was heavenly.

  “Christ, I’m crushing you,” he muttered, hauling himself up.

  “No!” Bunty cried, holding onto him and pulling him back. “No. Don’t… Don’t go. Not yet. I… I like it. I like the weight of you, the feel of you.”

  He shifted a little, propping his head on his elbow and staring down at her.

  “You do, eh?”

  There was teasing in his expression, but it was warm and gentle, in no way mocking, and so she just nodded.

  “You’ve really gone and done it now, my lady,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re mine.”