He wore a brocade robe, dark colours blended together so she could not make out the pattern. But she watched that rather than his face. After one glance, when she saw passion writ large, his eyes dark with desire, his mouth fuller, a deeper colour than usual.
She sensed sheer power as he crossed the room to her. When he took her hands, separating them so he could take them in his, his touch was gentle.
“Look at me, Virginie.”
Swallowing, she lifted her gaze to his face. His cheekbones stood starkly on the craggy features, and his intent expression hid nothing. “I want you, you know that. But I sense something else about you. You’re nervous. Why? You’re the goddess of love. If your extra experience worries you, don’t let it. Please.”
“You don’t understand,” she blurted, afraid and nervous. How could she tell him? She felt stupid enough as it was.
“I’m your second husband.” He sighed. “Virginie, I have requirements of my own. Faithfulness, you know that. Did your first husband require that of you?”
She shook her head. “Only that I was discreet. But I do not do that, Harry. I don’t wish to. It makes me feel—soiled. My husband wanted me to find lovers so he could watch. He didn’t know of my attributes, only that I was the daughter of a domestic servant. He bought me from her, or so he thought. So I didn’t find a lover. He was kind to me and gave me everything I wanted, including a substantial estate in his will.”
“I don’t like him,” Harry said. “He had no right to expect that of you.” His voice shook slightly.
She smiled sadly. “There are worse things. I used the reverse of my powers to ensure no man approached me.” As well as attracting people sexually, she had the power to repel them. Every god had a positive and negative aspect. “After he died, I considered taking a lover, but the estate kept me busy and I grew used to celibacy. I had no wish to give my husband’s heirs the chance to take the estate from me. It was mine, by deed. It is now yours.”
He shrugged. “That is the least of my concerns.”
“I know.” At least that could make her smile. She should be smiling more. It was her wedding night. “My second lover, you know also. I don’t wish to get into detail.” She didn’t want to traduce Marcus. He was no more in control than she. “Suffice it to say that we were out of our minds, frantic. You’re my third lover. Only my third.”
He stared at her, his face revealing nothing, and then he smiled, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. “We will do better. I’m not enchanted, or addicted.” He lifted one of her hands to his lips. She liked it when he did that. The warmth of his soft skin caressed the back of her hand, sending gentle waves of attraction through her body. “We’ll please ourselves tonight. Are you tired?”
She shook her head, her hair touching the back of her neck.
Releasing her hand, he stroked it. “So silky,” he murmured. “Pretty.”
People called Virginie beautiful, perfect, the attributes of her goddess, but “pretty” wasn’t one of them. He’d complimented her, Virginie. Did that mean he saw through the goddess to the woman beneath? She’d longed for someone to do that. Had she found him at last? She hugged the secret close. Even now she wouldn’t tell him. That word drove her close to a confidence that would give him access to the person nobody knew, not even her mother.
Unlike some of the newborn gods, Virginie had always known she had attributes of a deity. Both she and her mother had earlier realised who she was. Whose attributes had been implanted in her before her birth, become part of the baby intended as Virginie. Or rather, Virginia Davenport.
“If necessary we will sleep tonight, nothing else save a few kisses.” He drew her close and tucked her head under his chin. “If you wish it. It will kill me, but if you need me to prove that I have control of myself around you, I will do it.”
“No, no, I don’t want that.” She’d made her decision and now she wanted to put as much ground between her doomed affair and her new life as possible. “I want to stop this marriage properly. Put the past behind me.”
“Then do one thing for me,” he said. “Don’t close your eyes.”
She stared up into his craggy face, imprinting his features on her senses. This was the face she would see leaning above her making love to her from now on. Of course, the future was unknowable as far she could tell, she had committed itself to this. To him. “I won’t.”
His face came closer, and he kissed her. She had never kept her eyes opened during intimacy before. Adding another sense made the experience completely different to anything she’d known before. His short, dark hair plastered against his head in small curls, almost like those classical statues, which was appropriate, considering the circumstances.
His lips felt the same as yesterday, firmly pressing hers apart to give him the access he wanted. She gave it readily, eagerly accepting the caress of his tongue and returning it to in full measure.
“Virginie,” he murmured against her mouth, his breath stroking her cheek with soft heat. Her body melted under his caresses, and she moved closer to him, pressing her breasts against his chest. Her nipples tingled, that sensitivity almost unbearable.
He took his time, stroked her through the silk of her robe, and for the first time she marked the stages of her arousal. She’d never had the leisure to do that before. Every time he touched her, the sensitivity roused her slowly, easing her into the act of love. Tingles spread from her nipples and back when he touched every part of her body. And still he didn’t strip her robe from her. She wanted to shed it and like a creature of nature emerge as something completely different. Like the creature she had no idea what would happen next, but she wanted to find out. She had to move forward, or die in the attempt.
As if sensing the way her mind was going, Harry drew back and gazed at her. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, helpless to prevent her mind traveling along paths she didn’t want it to go. “I’ll try harder.”
“Don’t try,” he murmured, stroking back a lock of her hair. “Just feel.”
She forced a smile. “I’ll do my best.” When she tried to pull him back to her for another kiss, he resisted. It was like trying to pull a mountain.
“We will take this as slowly as you need,” he said. He just got to his lips to hers in a gesture so tender. It always brought tears to her eyes. She didn’t need slow, she needed fast and mindless. That might work to make her forget, to push her into her new life.
“Every step of the way you will know that it’s me.” Then he kissed her the way she wanted, hard and penetrating and deep, a precursor of the act to come. He brought his hands to the front of the robe and tugged the ribbons that held it closed. They slid undone and she watched him as he saw her naked body for the first time.
The maids who had seen her naked had called her goddess, divine, all the attributes that Virginie accepted as part of her other self, not the human heart of her.
Not her new husband. He murmured her name and then swallowed. “You undo me,” he said, wonder filling his voice. “You are so lovely.” He touched her with a fingertip that shook, trembling against the nipple.
She covered his hand and pressed firmly. “It’s yours now,” she said.
He shook his head. “It will always be yours.” He paused, his mouth partially open as if he wanted to say something else, but then he closed it and smiled instead. “It’s enough that you share it with me sometimes.”
She could do that, especially when he kissed her with such tender passion. She responded, shyly at first, holding herself back. As he continued to flick his tongue in and out of her mouth, running the tip around the inside of her lips, she flung her arm around his neck and responded with untutored enthusiasm.
She hardly noticed when he firmed his hands around her waist and lifted her. The sense of motion was over soon and she found herself with crisp, cool sheets at her back, lying on the soft pillows of her bed. Now their bed.
He lay next to her, pressing soft kisses to her mo
uth, touching his lips to the rim of her ear, letting his tongue flick over the tender skin. She had no idea she had so many sensitive areas on her face before he played with them. He nipped her earlobe before moving down the column of her throat, licking and sucking gently. The contact varied so she didn’t know if he was going to kiss her gently or more firmly.
She sighed and stroked his hair, which flicked up, the curls winding around her fingers, not long enough to tangle. She liked a man with hair, rather than the ones who shaved under their wigs, although she’d heard that bald men had their appeal for some.
For want of practical knowledge Virginie had listened avidly to gossip and read books when she could find them, so her book learning exceeded her instincts. That hampered her now. She had a real man under her hands, one she could experiment with, but she didn’t know where to start. Unexpected shyness held her back.
His actions encouraged her to try. His powerful hands moved over her curves so softly she sighed, and then squirmed, wanting firmer, harder contact. Intent on exploration, Harry smiled against her skin and then sucked the pulse point at the base of her throat gently. “Patience, wife.”
“No. Do it now!” How could she be any more aroused than she was already?
“Wait. I’m claiming you. Every part of you is mine, at least for tonight, and I intend to make sure of it.”
He’d rid her of the gown before he’d laid her on the bed, but he still wore his breeches. He must have removed his stockings before he came to her, and he’d kicked off his loose-fitting slippers. But his legs were under the covers, which were only shoved down as far as her thighs.
“I want you naked,” she murmured.
“In good time.” He continued his leisurely progress. Virginie was almost screaming by the time he reached her breasts. He shaped them with his hands and then tasted them, licking her nipples one after the other. “I think the right is sweeter.” He took another experimental taste. “No, the left.”
She’d never laughed in bed before. Her breasts quivered in his hands when she did so, and he growled his approval, deep in his throat, more like an animal purr. “Pretty.”
She liked that word.
Without warning he swooped and sucked a nipple hard. She jerked in reaction, her back bowing. If he hadn’t been so strong she might have bucked him off the bed. But as it was he sucked harder, intensifying the thrills coursing along her veins.
He smoothed his rough palm down her body. Over the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips. Down to her groin where he lingered, testing the soft skin of her belly. His sucks turned to kisses, and he placed a string of little touches around both nipples. Then glanced up at her, smiling. “You must tell me what you particularly like. But I think you like most things, do you not?”
“I—I don’t know.”
He didn’t remark on her surprising lack of knowledge, but merely said, “Then we’ll find out together. Tell me what you don’t like too. And I want you to touch me, Virginie. Wherever you like.”
Her attention flickered to his breeches, then back, and he gave her a knowing smile. “That too.”
Lifting up, he unfastened the fall and pushed down his breeches and underwear, kicking them away to be lost somewhere at the bottom of the bed. And she could see it all. Nearly all, that was, because the covers concealed him from mid-thigh down to his feet. He had a wonderful round backside, and his cock—did they make them that big?
Well, that was a stupid reaction that she kept to herself. Virginie had read enough “French” literature to know that they came in many different sizes. It was just that this one, proudly on display, was thicker than any she’d seen in the flesh before. She doubted she could get her fingers around it, although she had long digits. He was out of reach at the moment, lying, as he was, half way down her body.
He cocked his head to one side. “Satisfied?”
She shook her head. “Not nearly enough.”
As they laughed, he went back to work. He traced around her navel with his tongue before dipping in briefly and moving to her hip, then down further. He’d done this before. She braced herself for the wonderful sensation of his tongue on her clitoris, but he didn’t do it. Instead, he propped his head on his hand and opened her with his fingers, studying her intently.
“I could never fashion anything half this lovely,” he said. Virginie wasn’t sure how she felt about such close scrutiny. Inside, she heated and tingling, prickling ran up her spine. How could that be lovely?
He slid his finger down her crease, then pinched her clitoris lightly. His close scrutiny as much as his actions made her tense. “You’re wet, my wife,” he said. “Ready for me. But you might have noticed that I’m large, and I don’t want to hurt you. Besides, I’m enjoying this too much. I like to see where I’m going.”
Goodness! She had no idea what to say or how to react. She had no training, no response. The curse of godhead was that they could sense moods, and he sensed hers, for he said, “Only honesty in this. React exactly as you want to. I intend to.” He drew his finger down the other side and she shuddered. “That’s better. Keep it up.”
He pushed one finger inside her. He’d been there before, but he hadn’t watched her so carefully, and that made all the difference. He was studying her. She’d have no secrets once he’d done. Crooning her name, he pushed another finger beside the first. Then he rotated them.
“Oh!” Her shocked exclamation accompanied her startled jerk, but he held her steady and continued to explore her. “Soft, wet, completely tempting. You smell like spice and mulled wine, and a surprising note of roses.” He bent and took a deep, noisy sniff, and then touched his tongue to her. “You taste the same and I will enjoy you completely before we’re done here tonight. The more you give, the more I’ll take from you, so be warned, my lady.” His roguish smile was unlike anything else she’d seen in him before. She hadn’t thought him capable of teasing.
A third finger joined the two already deep inside her. He plunged in and out. The sounds of her juices came loud to her ears. She had never imagined such intimacy would excite her rather than embarrass her. He stroked her, tugged at her and added to the sensations rioting inside her, so strong she didn’t know what to do or how to react.
“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate. “Think of nothing. Then you’ll come.”
Yes, that was it. Stop her mind racing. What if he—
Her orgasm took her by surprise. Completely shocked, she twisted, crying out, then screaming.
He left her for a bare instance, pulled his fingers out of her and then came up the bed to lie over her. Pressure nudged her, then grew stronger, then with an internal pop he was inside her, seated firmly. Filled her up, crammed her full.
Blindly she reached out and clutched his bare back. His muscles flexed powerfully as he drove deeper, until he was fully embedded inside her.
Sucking in a breath, she revelled in him. His heat surrounded her, so no part of her didn’t come into contact with him.
He stopped, poised with his shaft just inside her. Her eyes shot open.
He had his elbows propped either side of her, and he stared down, his eyes gleaming with inner fire. “That’s better,” he said, and thrust into her again. “Remember? Watch me, goddess. Keep your eyes open. I want to see your eyes when I make you come.”
“But I’ve—”
He laughed, rough and low. “Once and finished, is that it? That’s not the way we do it, my lady. We keep going until we can’t do it any more.”
He was as good as his word, pumping into her and pulling out. She learned the rhythm of his body, the way his muscles tensed against her skin. First one pattern, hard, straight lines, and then horizontally as he used his hips to swivel and rotate.
When he caught her in a certain way, she flinched and cried out. Her body did that arching again, an instinctive reaction.
He chuckled. Sweat beaded his forehead and when she stroked his arms, marvelling at their width and stren
gth, he twisted again.
“That spot. Oh, don’t stop!”
“You’d have to kill me first.” He drove harder, reaching deep inside her with every stroke, holding her down by the sheer power of his body. As her body opened even more to accommodate him, he hammered into her, faster, harder, deeper. His white teeth clenched, he watched her face, never took his attention away from it.
Mewling his name, she exploded. Her passaged tightened, gripped him, and he closed his eyes. Then he forced them open and stared at her as she lost all semblance of civilisation and control.
The air hummed. Blue sparks and flashes zipped around them, interspersed with licks of fire as he bellowed her name. “Virginie!”
Her name.
At last, she closed her eyes.
Chapter Fourteen
Whether she fell asleep or just fainted for a minute, Virginie wasn’t sure. She opened her eyes to find herself cradled in Harry’s arms. Her head was pillowed on his shoulder, her leg draped across his. Her breasts were pressed against him. She had never felt more comfortable in all her life.
He grunted, a deeply masculine sound, when her eyes flickered open. “Welcome back.”
“How long was I—”
“About twenty minutes. I was dozing off myself.” He claimed a kiss, and he made it luscious, licking into her mouth. She lifted her head, stretching up to meet him, so she could meld her mouth to his. “You owed me that,” he said when their lips parted.
“I suppose I do.” She smiled lazily.
“Virginie—” He broke off, frowning, and then started again. “Why haven’t you done even the most basic intimate exploration?”
“Was it that obvious?” She felt languorous and relaxed. Why should she deny what was patently evident to him?
“Yes. You’re the goddess of love. Surely you can control the act?” He glanced away, then back at her. “I was terrified coming in here. Afraid I wouldn’t be enough for you. You are who you are.”
“I’m also Virginie.” Time to explain at least a little of her dilemma. “I’m a woman of thirty, who has only had intimate relations with two men. My husband is one. The other you know.”
Forged by Love: Even Gods Fall in Love, Book 4 Page 14
