Miles Before I Sleep

by Byrd, M. Donice

  Suddenly, he found himself on the floor, sitting mostly upright on his bottom. He wasn’t completely sure how she had done it, but she had shoved him off so hard, she had not only dislodged him, but knocked him off the bed completely.

  She scrambled off the other side of the bed, snatching up her nightgown and holding it in front of her.

  “You couldn’t just say, ‘Stop, I don’t like what you’re doing,’ or ‘You are going too fast for me,'?” he asked from the floor, casting a bemused glance over his shoulder at her.

  “I don’t want to do this—not now—not ever.”

  Miles sighed and cursed under his breath. He knew she wasn’t ready—he should have realized when she said she wanted to get it over with, that she had steeled her nerves to do so, and could quickly lose her bravado.

  “Put your nightgown on, Andi,” he said, resignation making his tone taut and unnaturally cool. Knowing his unmentionables did little to hide the evidence of his desire, Miles said, “Please, hand me my dressing robe.”

  ~*~

  Remember how the marquess had told her he would tie her to the bed with the sash of his robe, Andrea gasped and pulled her nightgown on. Her eyes darted back and forth between Miles and the doorway just beyond where he was climbing to his feet. Suddenly, she darted past and into the other room. “I’m not going to let you tie me to the bed.”

  She heard a mild curse escaped his lips as she found herself in the sitting room. “Andi….”

  ~*~

  He followed her into the outer room and was shocked to see her at the door, struggling with the lock. “No!” he yelled as he rushed to her.

  Her body was halfway into the corridor when he caught her by the waist. “You’re in your nightgown, Andi,” he said calmly. “Come back in before someone sees you. We are on a ship in the middle of the ocean. If you really want to leave, come back in and get dressed.”

  Miles heard a lock turning on another stateroom in the corridor. He bodily pulled her back inside, and shut the door before anyone saw them.

  “Please, don’t tie me to the bed,” she said pulling away from him and pressing her back to the closed door.

  33

  Miles ran his hand through his hair. He had botched the whole thing. She was young and scared, and he had just made matters worse. “Was what I was doing so bad? Didn’t you like it at all?”

  Andrea stared at him not answering, her carriage erect and stiff.

  Miles became acutely aware of his state of undress and how uncomfortable she must feel.

  “If you would be kind enough to pour me a sherry, I’ll go put on my robe.” When she made no move, he added, “If you’re going to leave, please, get dressed first.”

  “Where should I go? You gave my room away.”

  Miles dragged his hand through his hair a second time as he turned and padded into the bedroom. “It never occurred to me you might want to use it again.”

  Andrea locked the door, then poured two glasses of sherry. She downed one quickly and poured herself another one before he returned.

  “I can’t find your dressing gown. Do you want me to ask Ruth if it might have been overlooked when she moved your belongings?”

  “I-I didn’t have room in my luggage. I thought I’d replace it when I got settled.”

  “Would you like mine?”

  When she wheeled around, she found he had not only put on his robe but his nightshirt as well.

  “Oh, yes, thank you. I still feel quite naked.”

  Miles gave her a small sympathetic smile as he removed the dressing robe and handed it to her.

  “I’m sure my mother planned a trousseau for me with proper clothing for my husband to see me wear.”

  “Andrea, you look as beautiful in your cotton as most women look in silk.”

  She wouldn’t argue with his compliment. It would only sound like she was angling for more. “Be that as it may, I’m a terrible wife. I am obviously not cut out for my wifely duties.”

  Andrea shrugged into the robe that he held out for her and he tied the sash before she even had the chance. They each picked up their glasses of Spanish wine and moved to the sitting area. Miles sat on the sofa and felt disappointed when she sat in a chair. He should not have been surprised, but he was.

  “The fault lies with me, Andi. I handled this all wrong. But I don’t understand why you thought I would tie you to the bed.”

  Andrea refused to admit that Lord Ironwood had put that thought in her head. “Isn’t that what men do to punish their wives when they don’t obey in the bedroom?”

  “No, Andi.” His eyes narrowed as he tried to understand. “There is nothing you could do that would make me want to punish you. Of course, there will be times when we disagree and we may argue, but it’s not my place to punish you.”

  Andrea bit her lip and her hands continued to tremble as she held the glass.

  “We don’t have to consummate our vows tonight, Andi, but we will before we disembark. And you are going to wonder what all this ado was about.”

  Andrea continued to hold his gaze, her heart thumping hard and steadily in her chest. “I-I want to be a good wife. I want to consummate our vows.”

  “I want to be a good husband,” he said in quiet tones. “Anyone can see you aren’t ready.”

  “I doubt I will ever be ready. It will not matter if we wait five minutes or five years,” she interrupted. “Postponing will only make it worse. I am ready to try again, but I need a moment of privacy first.”

  Every nerve ending prickled as she asked for a moment of privacy. She had said the same thing when they returned to their stateroom earlier, and Miles worried that she was going to cry or worse—try to hurt herself to avoid the inevitable.

  “Why?” he blurted, and then felt heat rise on his neck when he realized she might just need to use the commode chair, discreetly hidden inside one of the built-in lockers.

  She blushed to her roots. “I need to wash myself again. I did it when I got ready for bed, but when you were touching my….” She glanced at her breasts, but did not say the word. “I felt sweat down there. I promise you, I am a clean person, Miles. One moment I thought I was cold because the hair on my neck and arms rose up, and the next I felt a bead of sweat—down there.”

  “Ah,” he said with a knowing nod, feeling as if he was beginning to understand her sudden panic. “Come here and sit with me.”

  Andrea, feeling embarrassed by the turn of the conversation, rose stiffly and sat on the edge of the sofa next to him. “I-I couldn’t let you touch me there when I knew I wasn’t clean. I promise I’m not normally dirty.”

  Miles wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. “Is that why you pushed me off?” She nodded. “That wasn’t sweat, Andi. That was your nectar.”

  “Nectar? Like a honeysuckle?”

  Miles grinned as he imagined Andrea pulling the heads off honeysuckles and sucking out the sweet liquid. He nuzzled her neck, burrowing his nose into her hair. “Yes, and it will be every bit as sweet. I can’t wait to taste you.”

  She gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Many wives think that is the best part.”

  “That cannot be normal,” she said boldly.

  He laughed and pulled her closer. “All this talk about down there has me ready to try again,” he whispered into her ear, his breath tickling her neck. “Let’s go back to bed.”

  He noticed she was still slightly stiff as she rose from the sofa and preceded him into the bedroom. She unbelted the robe and hung it in the locker.

  “If you feel overwhelmed, tell me to stop,” he said gently.

  He could tell by her expression that she was fighting conflicting emotions. He felt sorry for what she was going through, but knew nothing she would experience compared to what she expected. With the way she had built up a frightening scenario in her imagination, he doubted he could bring her to climax, but that was not going to stop him from trying.

  Part of him wondered if he s
hould even try. Perhaps if she could not relax, he should finish quickly, so she would not feel tender later. Then after she had seen for herself there was nothing to fear, he could make love to her the way she deserved.

  “I don’t want to go to sleep a virgin wife.”

  “May I?” he asked, reaching for her nightgown. She nodded and bit her lip. Her eyes only left his as he pulled her nightgown over her head. He took her hand and helped her to recline on the bed.

  “The wine has made your hands hot.”

  He felt his erection throb remembering how he wanted to bury himself in her depths when she was on fire like that, and it looked like he was going to get his wish. He hastily pulled his nightshirt over his head. Before he could climb in with just his unmentionables on, she stopped him.

  “I-I want to see you,” she said, lifting her head and looking down. “All of you.”

  He reached for the button at the waist of his drawers then thought better of it. “Maybe we should wait until afterwards. I don’t want to frighten you.”

  “Are you overly large?”

  Miles shook his head in denial, knowing he was lying to her. He had never been with a woman who did not comment on it. He knew it was something she would learn to love, but perhaps not her first time. “I think we’re all about the same down there,” he said, playing on her naïveté, “… Just as all women are similar.”

  The mattress gave slightly under his weight as he joined her on the bed. Gently taking a nipple between his fingertips, he rolled the button until it hardened in his fingers.

  “How tender are your breasts?” he asked, looking up and found her eyes closed. “They’re still red from before, and I don’t want you feeling bruised tomorrow.”

  Biting her lip, her eyes fluttered open. “That feels divine, but they are getting sore,” she said panting slightly.

  As much as he wanted to see her body’s responses to his hands and gentle nibbles, Miles only used his tongue. She arched and made soft sounds of pleasure, but he did not linger there.

  As he kissed his way lower, flicking his tongue with every kiss, he moved between her thighs. She flinched as his hand entered her folds. “Easy. I am not going to hurt you. Relax. Breathe. My God, you really are wet.”

  She inhaled sharply. “I’m sorry. I told you.…”

  “Shh. This is a good thing, Andi. It means your body is ready for me. It’s just like when your mouth begins to water when you see peaches in cream.”

  “Down there is salivating for you?”

  He loved the awe in her voice and chuckled. “Essentially, yes. I’m almost tempted to enter you now and break your maidenhead then finish up after the pain has stopped.”

  “Then why don’t you?” she asked, thinking his plan of withdrawing to give her time to recover from his first thrust had merit.

  “Because if I enter you, I’ll want to stay there until I’m finished, and I want you to find your release before I enter you.”

  He watched her eyes as his fingers glided easily over her silky wet clitoris.

  “Stop!” she said, her voice strained. “I think I need to release my bladder.”

  His hand stilled and he felt the nub beneath his fingers lengthen slightly and draw tighter to her sex as she tightened her urinary muscles. A light moan escaped her lips.

  “You may not really need to. It may just be what I’m doing to you. Do you think you can wait?”

  She nodded, and he noted the quick rise and fall of her breathing.

  He slid his two fingers lower until they entered her. Her eyes grew wide. “Andi, I want you to slowly tighten those muscles and release them and keep doing that. You set the pace as slow as you want and I will follow.”

  He allowed her to contract the muscles around his fingers twice before lowering his mouth to her swollen folds. His tongue had barely found its target, when she began writhing as she unsuccessfully fought to keep still. Her breathing quickened and a long staccato moan transformed into short panting breaths as she convulsed around his fingers, his tongue laving and gently suckling the pleasure point as she found her release.

  “Stop, stop!” she called as the pulsing around his fingers began to wane and she became acutely sensitive.

  His tongue made one last stroke and she rewarded him with a mew and a twitch.

  As she panted to catch her breath, Miles pushed his drawers down and kissed his way up her body until their mouths met.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  Her eyes fluttered open and looked at him with complete astonishment radiating from her flushed face.

  With a grin of male satisfaction that he had brought her to her first climax, he positioned himself to enter her silken depths. He moved the head along the length of her sex twice before beginning his entry, coating the tip in her juices. Holding his body above her, he kissed her as he eased himself in. He moaned into her mouth as the molten hot lava surrounded him. When he reached her barrier, he withdrew then entered her again pulling short before he broke through. Repeating the motion several times, he released her mouth so he could watch as he penetrated her maidenhead.

  With his first deep thrust, her brow lowered, her eyes momentarily clenching tighter as a soft rush of air escaped her lips. Beautiful blue eyes fluttered open a second later and she smiled at him.

  He kissed her without shutting his eyes and lifted one of her hands to place it behind his neck.

  “I want to feel your hands on me, Andi. I want you to explore my body the way I explored yours.” As he held himself still buried to the root, he felt her muscles tightening and releasing as she had done to his fingers.

  “I’m not going to last very long if you do that at the beginning,” he rasped, still trying to acclimate himself to the tight untried depths surrounding his shaft. There could be no sweeter feeling than being buried inside the woman he loved.

  He dragged himself back and she could feel his withdrawal without the slightest discomfort of breaking through her maidenhead. The fullness felt strange, but not at all painful. As he filled her again, she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts and her breath began to quicken. She knew he said not to tighten her muscles yet, but she could not help it as he taught her the age-old rhythm of making love. As his pace increased, she could not hold her hips still, and soon her body was convulsing and throbbing around his.

  “God,” he cried out as the pulsation triggered his climax. He shuddered to a stop a few thrusts later and collapsed on top of her. When conscious thought returned, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled to the side pulling her with him.

  “You’re not mad at me, are you?” she asked.

  “Whatever for?”

  “You told me not to tighten my muscles, but I couldn’t help it.”

  Miles laughed. “No, that was beyond compare. I would not change a thing.”

  His spent shaft slipped out of her, making him twitch, and slowly his mind began to function again. He stroked her silky hair basking in the afterglow, feeling relieved and immensely pleased with himself that he had brought her to her zenith twice.

  34

  “Do you still want me to keep a mistress?” he asked, rising up on one elbow and smiling down at her. He expected her to turn red and say no, but instead she paled. A myriad of expressions crossed her delicate features before her face went blank.

  “If that is your wish.”

  A scowl pulled his eyebrows closer forming small lines above the bridge of his nose. “Andi, I didn’t ask you for permission to have a mistress. I asked if you wanted me to have one.”

  “Miles, I knew you weren’t asking my permission—no man would ask his wife—I shall have to accept what you do, so we might have a happy home.”

  He rolled onto his back and stared at the low ceiling striped with heavy wooden beams as he fought the turmoil inside him. He knew this was not her fault. Her mother had been preparing her for a loveless marriage with an English nobleman. Her sole purpose was to fill the coffers of some lord and birth a
n heir and a spare or two.

  With a near silent huff, he rolled back towards her. “Andrea, I want you to listen to my question, and I want you to answer it. I do not want you to tell me what you have been instructed to say, or what you think I want to hear. I want you to answer from your heart. Do you want me to have a mistress?”

  “Please, Miles, I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. I want you to be fulfilled so you will not resent me.” Her voice wavered with emotion, and her eyes became watery and red.

  Miles nearly told her not to cry, but realized it was one of the few times she had shown genuine emotion in front of him. He rolled forward until he could put his arms around her then rolled back until her body was draped over his. His arms tightened around her so she could not pull away.

  “I was hoping you would tell me you never wanted me to make love with anyone but you for the rest of our lives,” he said, placing a kiss on her temple.

  “But I want you to be happy,” she said with a tiny sniffle.

  “And what of your happiness, Andrea?”

  Her lower lip, still pouty from his kisses, trembled slightly. “It’s a woman’s lot to sacrifice if it brings happiness to her family. I have to be content, knowing any concessions I make, will benefit everyone else.”

  Miles fought the anger that percolated up inside him like boiling coffee. Every moment seemed to make the brew stronger.

  “You are not foregoing a dress so that your children can have new clothing. That kind of sacrifice is indeed noble. The fact that you would accept your husband’s infidelity is not the same. It’s foolish. You would become resentful of me.”

  “But….”

  “No, no buts. You would grow bitter in your resentment of me. What will make our children happy are two happy parents.”

  Her shoulders dropped slightly, but he was not sure if it was resignation. “But how will you be happy if I don’t make love right?”

  “Making love to you makes me happy.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide with wonder. “But I did it wrong.”