She shrugged. “Because for him that is the most troubling aspect of their behavior.”
“Did he know your plight?”
“We have never spoken of it, but I imagine he knew.”
Thomas gazed at the wall. “Perhaps I should have spoken to him prior to our marriage. I suppose I might have at least sent a note.”
“What if he had disapproved?” Dory inched back toward the head of the bed.
Grabbing her calves, he hauled her forward until their knees touched again. “I am not saying I would have done anything different, Dory. Only that I should have informed my friend of my intentions toward his sister.”
His erection drew her attention. She longed to explore his body, but fisted her hands around the pillow instead. “I…I am glad of that.”
He followed her gaze. “You are free to touch me, Dory. I am yours as much as you are mine.” His eyes branded her with his passion.
Putting the pillow aside gave the heat in her cheeks time to ease. Wanting to be worldly and brave and being so were two different things. She touched the corded muscles along the side of his neck and ran her fingers over his shoulders. His arms bulged and indented like a diamond cut along his flesh. She traced the pattern before continuing to the soft hair smattering his forearm. Long, graceful fingers and strong hands, it was no wonder he was a musician.
His intense gaze captured her.
She slid her hands down along his chest and her thumbs slid over the taut nipples.
He drew a sharp breath.
“How do you stay so fit? I thought all gentlemen were soft and flabby.”
His smile lit his sapphire eyes. “I ride and fence to stay fit.”
“You look as if you lift trees for a living.”
“Sometimes I go to the docks and help load my ships. It keeps me strong and gives me a chance to know the men who work there.”
She trailed her fingers down his ribs, each one like a key on the pianoforte. Desire burned inside her and she longed for more of his touches. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “You are a strange man. I have never heard of a gentleman doing manual labor.”
“Perhaps more should.”
She couldn’t argue with that. The men of the ton were often soft and spoiled. “Perhaps.”
Without breaking eye contact she let her touch drift to his shaft.
An intensity built in his gaze. It was at once terrifying and powerful.
She didn’t know what she’d expected, but the soft skin in contrast to the rigidity of him surprised her. Lightly, she caressed the length of him from tip to base.
His chest rose and fell faster and his Adam’s apple bounced up and down.
Her courage bolstered, she took him in her hand and massaged his shaft.
He closed his eyes and groaned low. “Dory, you are amazing, but I cannot take any more of that.”
She stilled.
Taking her hand from his rod, he stared into her eyes.
Blood rushed through her pounding heart and every touch of his skin to hers was pure delight.
He leaned forward until he was on his knees and she back on the pillows. His weight pressed her to the mattress and she braced for the pain to come.
With his shaft perched at her opening, he kissed her lips. His hand slid along her thigh, and as he eased to one side, his fingers dipped between her legs.
Intense delight shot through her. Sounds spilled from her lips, but she only knew she wanted more.
He rubbed a circle around between her nether-lips until she bucked against his hand. His fingers stretched her then slid out and teased the bud.
She tried to regain her senses but his fingers drove her to the brink of madness. “Tom.”
He pressed her thighs apart, took his fingers away, and placed his shaft at her entrance. “Dory, look at me.”
Strain pulled his face taut. His eyes shone with the sun’s intensity. She braced herself.
“Sweet, you have to relax. I promise the pain will subside quickly and will never return.” He eased forward and pulled back.
Trying to control her breathing, she sucked in a deep breath.
He thrust forward.
Tearing, burning pain shot through her. He’d ripped her in half. Tears streamed down her face.
Thomas didn’t move. With his weight supported on his elbow he wiped her cheeks and cooed, “I am sorry. I promise there will never be pain in our bed again. Just this once it is necessary to make you mine.”
The agony eased to a dull ache. She wiggled back to remove herself, but he stayed with her. Her treacherous body responded to him despite the dwindling pain. The next time she pulled back, he let her, but the delight forced her hips forward again.
“Are you all right?” His voice was strained and tight.
Amazingly, the pain had gone, leaving behind longing, desire, and pleasure. “I think so.”
He slid out to the tip of his shaft and then eased forward again.
Her body clutched at him and she grabbed his shoulders. “That feels good, Tom.”
Still straining, he smiled. “For me it is heaven.”
Pulling out and thrusting in caused his pelvis to rub her in the most amazing way. Wanting more, she lifted her legs and gripped around his waist. It was just enough and more delight followed. Nothing existed beyond him and her and the bed. Her world collapsed into that small space and the pleasure he delivered. Clinging to him she played counterpoint, her hips to his, until the dam broke and rapture engulfed her.
He stilled, holding her tight. As soon as her body relaxed he pumped into her fast and hard, spilling his seed inside her. His body jerked and took her through another pop of pleasure.
Dory collapsed on the mattress, legs and arms spread with Tom on top of her still intimately linked. She caught her breath. “That was…”
“What?”
“Unexpected.”
He burst out laughing and rolled to the side taking her with him until she lay on top of him. “You are amazing, and if I did not know it would hurt you I would wait five minutes and make love to you again.”
She tingled at the notion. “Is that possible?”
“Not tonight. You will be too sore.” He rolled again and gentled her onto the mattress as if she were the most delicate crystal.
In spite of the pleasure he’d shown her, there was an ache between her legs and exhaustion blanketed her.
The bed dipped as he got up. Maybe to sleep in another room. Wishing she could convince him to stay, but even too tired for that, she closed her eyes.
Warm and wet, she woke to someone bathing her. Thomas had a cloth and he cleaned between her legs and her inner thighs. Nothing could have been sweeter. She wanted to tell him so, but again she dozed.
His arms enveloped her and she snuggled against his hard chest. Whatever he was saying, her brain only processed a low hum and the steady cadence of his breathing.
Chapter 9
In his entire life, nothing had been as wonderful as waking up with Dorothea in his arms. She slept soundly and the steady rise and fall of her chest was better than any lullaby. He pulled her in closer and she nestled against him.
The sun peeked through the curtains.
Dory stretched long, her legs brushing his, and her arm pushed up along his face. “Good morning.”
He caressed her silken skin from just under her breast to the curve of her hip. Mine. “Did you sleep well?”
“Mm. Too well. Usually, I wake several times and must play to relax enough to find rest again.” She snuggled back against him.
“I glad you slept, but I have to admit I would have loved to hear you play in the middle of the night.”
“Shall I play for you now?”
There was something off about her tone. He kissed her shoulder. “Dory, you sho
uld always play for yourself. I may reap the benefits, but I would hate to think of you playing simply to entertain.”
She rolled to face him. Her hair was a mass of waves, which had come loose of their braid. Those stunning green eyes of hers were wide. “Why would you say such a thing? Everyone wants me to play for them.”
He longed to pull her plump bottom lip between his and then kiss every square inch of her luscious body, but he forced it aside because he longed more for her to be happy. He took a deep breath and pushed several stray strands of hair out of her eyes. “The times I have enjoyed you play the most have been when you did not know anyone was listening. You are free with your emotion and it shows in the music. I hope someday you will play thusly when an audience is present.”
With unfocused eyes, she stared at someplace on his face below his eyes. She brought her gaze up to meet his. “Elinor has told me something similar.”
“I am in good company then.”
“Indeed.”
Perhaps it was time to change the subject and lighten the mood.
“What would you like to do today? Shall we get up and find something to break our fast, walk in the garden, or would you prefer to stay in bed all day?” He lifted his eyebrows several times.
Her stomach grumbled and she giggled.
He peeked under the sheet toward her complaining belly. He meant to be silly, but her breasts were delectable as was the rest of her naked form. A growl rumbled up from his chest. “I know you are hungry and as a good husband I should whisk you down for whatever the cook has prepared, but I cannot look at your stunning body and be unaffected.”
Slipping her hand under the covers, she ran her fingers along his ribs.
Her touch sent his blood rushing to his shaft. Another growl followed.
Continuing her path down his body, she tickled her way to his growing erection. “Perhaps your wife is hungry for more than just food.”
“That would make me quite happy.”
She gripped him and worked her hand up and down.
When he could take no more of her gentle ministrations, he pulled her hand away and rolled on his back, taking her with him. His rod perched at the entrance to heaven.
Wide-eyed, she stared down at him. “This is…unexpected.”
“There are a great many ways we can make love together, Dory. I hope you will find pleasure in many of them and always tell me what you like and most certainly what you do not.” Hands on her hips he edged her up until the tip of him entered her. The rest, he left up to her.
She pressed her hands against his chest, closed her eyes, and slid down until he was deep inside her. Her mouth opened on a cry and she lifted her hips and settled again.
Wanting her to find power in their lovemaking and being able to resist the need for a faster pace warred within him. He grasped her hips and quickened the pace.
She leaned forward and a sharp cry filled the room.
His body tightened like a bow pulled back to fire. Slipping his hand between them, he found her bud and rubbed the wet folds.
Her orgasm flowed around him pulling at his own until he erupted.
Gasping, she collapsed on his chest. “My word, Tom. That was wonderful.”
Joy that would last a lifetime bubbled inside him. “Yes, it was.”
Her stomach growled.
He ran his hand from the rise of her buttocks along her spine and up the supple curves of her shoulder blades. Every inch of her was exquisite and unmarred. His body was as tarnished as the stars in the sky yet she didn’t seem bothered by his imperfections. “Shall I ring for our breakfast or would you like to go downstairs?”
She propped her head on her hands where they rested on his chest. “That was not what you were thinking.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“You were very far away, and then you asked about my desires.”
“You are very astute.” He should hide his feelings better. Practiced enough at the game, he could keep the darkness away from his innocent bride. Yet, something rang true in her seeing through his disguise.
“Will you tell me where you went? What were you thinking about?” Dory watched him, her face a mask of concern and curiosity.
He kissed her nose. “I wondered what you thought when you look at my scarred and beaten body.”
Cocking her head, she smiled. “Mind you, I have no other male forms to compare yours to, but you look very nice to me.”
“You are being kind.” His chest burned with years of regret for service he had always accepted.
“No.” She touched a puckered scar on his shoulder. “Each one of these wounds shaped you and made you the man you are, Thomas Wheel. It occurs to me that I am an extremely lucky woman to have married you.”
“What makes you think so?”
There was just the hint of a smile in her eyes. “What do you want most out of our marriage?”
“To make you happy.” The response was immediate.
“There, you see? How could any woman want more than that? I will never be able to thank you enough for marrying me.” She pressed her forehead to his chest and the first cool tear dripped on him.
Keeping one hand around her back, he threaded his other through her hair and forced her to look at him. “You must never thank me for that, Dorothea. I am yours as much as you are mine and believe me when I tell you I have bartered a far better deal than you have. All of England will think I stole myself a treasure and they will be right, even if they are wrong about where your value lies.”
“I do not care what anyone thinks. You saved me from a horrible life with a troll of a man. How am I not to be grateful?”
“Because I would not have married you if I did not want you for my own reasons. If I did not care for you, I would have left you to your fate.”
She dashed away her tears. “It is a good thing you love music and I can play. At least for my sake.”
Sighing, he closed his eyes. “One day you will know your own value, sweetheart.”
Her stomach growled so loud he felt the rumble against his own belly. Her eyes widened and her cheeks pinked.
God, she was stunning.
With a laugh, he rolled her to the bed. “I’d better get you fed or you will wither away. Shall I ring for food?”
“Let’s go down, if you don’t mind.”
He sat up with a touch of regret because he wouldn’t be able to keep her to himself. “As you wish.”
* * * *
The midday sun helped to warm the garden. It was more chaotic than an English garden. Paths wound through the wilderness with no obvious sense. Yet in its madness, there was order and Thomas admired the juxtaposition.
Dory’s shawl slipped from her shoulder.
He caught the silk and replaced it before taking her hand.
“Thank you.”
Children’s laughter tinkled in the distance and they walked on toward the sound. They reached a small grassy clearing and found the source.
Jimmie and Sarah played with two other children. They kicked a ball around the grass while the nanny watched and held John in her arms.
“Be mindful of Sarah, Jimmie. She’s just a wee one.” The nanny called to the oldest Kerburghe child.
Jimmie peered through a wave of chestnut hair and gave her a nod.
Dory dropped his hand and crossed the grass to the nanny and John. “May I hold him?”
“Of course, madam.” She passed the bundle of arms and legs over.
Dory sat and took John in her arms. She pressed her lips to his head and closed her eyes as if breathing him in. “There is nothing like the scent of a baby.”
“Yer right about that, madam.” The nanny grinned.
“What is your name?”
“Gertie.”
Thomas strolled over keepi
ng an eye on the boisterous play and Dory at the same time. “You look quite natural with that baby in your arms.”
Her eyes lit with delight. “Do you think so?”
“I do.” His heart clenched longing to fill his house with babies for her to hug. He’d never seen anyone or anything more beautiful. Everything about Dorothea lured him in and held him captive. If they had not been in the company of the children and Gertie, he would have taken her right there in the soft grass. Would she like adventure in their lovemaking or was their bedroom the only place she would allow him liberties? Not that it was something to complain about, but he longed to make love to her in every room in all of his houses.
“Oh aye, madam. You look stunning holding a bairn. You’ll be a fine mother to your own babes in no time.” Gertie smiled but kept her gaze on the four children tumbling across the grass.
So caught up in his fantasy of Dory giving him children, he was late noticing her bright red cheeks.
She cooed to John.
If he watched her much longer, he would embarrass himself. He turned to the play. The ball forgotten, all four were going head over heels like little balls of cloth and flesh. “What’s the game?” Thomas called across to the children.
Jimmie stood at the far edge of the clearing. A lanky, sturdy fellow, he had eyes much older than his years. “Tumbling and I win.”
The other three groaned and ran to stand near Jimmie.
“It’s a race then?”
Jimmie cocked his head. “You want to play with us, sir?”
“I have tumbled a time or two in my life. There’s no need to look skeptical.”
With a shrug of his thin shoulders, Jimmie arranged everyone in a line at one end of the field.
Thomas removed his jacket and cravat and tossed them to the grass before lining up next to the children.
“Too big.” Sarah pointed, her lips in a puffy frown.
“Maybe so.” Thomas crouched next to her. A quick glance at Dory confirmed her rapt attention.
“Go!”
All four children tumble-salted in drunken lines toward the finish.
Thomas put his head to the ground and pushed off. He came down on his back with a thwack but rolled to his feet.
Desperate Bride Page 10
