by Jenna Jaxon
Could she still be sore from lying with Kersey? “Does this hurt?” He wiggled his finger inside her. She did seem awfully tight.
“A little. Not like before.”
Perhaps another try. He slid a second finger inside.
“Owww. Yes, yes, that hurts.” She stared accusingly at him.
Christ Almighty. Very gently, he removed his fingers and sat up. “Charlotte, do you remember anything about your encounter with Lord Kersey?’
She puckered her brow and bit her lip. “Not much. I was quite foxed.”
“Did you feel a hurt, just as now? Were you sore there the next morning?”
“I don’t remember feeling anything that night. And the next morning my head hurt so abominably I have no idea if anything else was sore.” She looked up at him, sudden hope in her eyes. “So you don’t think he . . .”
Nash shook his head and ran a finger down her luscious body, from neck to the silky curls where he had lately trespassed, and delighted in her shiver. “I don’t know for certain. But it’s beginning to seem doubtful. Was there blood on the sheets the next morning?”
She shook her head. “I have no idea. I was so ill, I didn’t think to look. Rose would know. We’ll have to ask her when we get to Lyttlefield.”
Never letting his gaze leave her face, he stretched out next to her again, running his fingers through those tantalizing curls. Slowly, he pushed her legs apart. “There’s another way to find out.”
Her eyes grew large before narrowing to slits. “So, if it hurts badly this time and there is blood, then he didn’t . . .”
“That’s right. He didn’t . . . and I’ll be your first.” God, he hoped that would be true. He cupped her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “Will you mind that very much?”
In answer, Charlotte growled in her throat, sending a primal shiver down his spine. She grabbed his shoulders and dragged him over top of her. She pulled his mouth down to hers, pressing her tongue inside. A kiss sweet beyond belief. Made more exciting because she had taken the lead.
His already stiff member swelled to more painful heights.
“Love me, Nash. Love me now.”
He’d wanted their first time together to be slow and pure pleasure; that, now, had changed. Perhaps best to provide some quick pleasure to distract from the pain. He slid his mouth over her nipple, teased it to a point, then nibbled at it.
She moaned and pressed his head against her. Her legs moved restlessly.
Good.
He eased off her and reached again for her opening. Slipping his finger inside, he sighed with relief to find her wet and ready. That would make it somewhat easier when the time came. Gathering some of her essence, he moved to the little button just above and began to massage it.
“Oh, Nash.” Charlotte began to moan and writhe the moment he touched that special spot. He smiled against her breast and began to draw on her nipple. She had always responded to his touch magnificently; this time he expected fireworks. As he sucked, he circled around her nub with his finger, coordinating the motions. It shouldn’t take her—
“Oh . . . no. Oh . . . Nash. What’s . . . what’s happening?” Her panted words rose to a high pitch. “Oh, oh, oh. Naaaash.” She grasped his head as her body shook with her first climax.
Nash rested against her now lax body, satisfaction akin to orgasm flooding him. He’d given her the ultimate pleasure, the first man to do so. It filled him with joy that he could do this for her after she’d endured so many empty, passionless years. He raised himself so he could see her happiness and found her cheeks wet with tears.
“Charlotte! My dear, did I hurt you?” Christ, that shouldn’t have been painful.
She shook her head, tears still streaming, and clutched him anew. “I . . . I never knew . . . that I could feel like this. I thought it must be w . . . wonderful because of what the others hinted at. But I couldn’t have imagined this.... I’m just so glad it happened with you.” She burrowed into his shoulder and his heart lurched so hard she must feel it.
“Shhhh, love. It’s all right. I am honored to have been the one to give you such pleasure.” He stroked the beautiful head and pulled the covers over them, lest she grow cold.
Charlotte had always overwhelmed him, never more so than now. How could he not be humbled by her confession? He desired nothing more than to love and cherish her for the rest of their lives. Yet now, bound by honor, he could not ask for the privilege. He sighed and held her closer.
“Charlotte.” Nash kissed her brow. He couldn’t seem to touch her enough.
“Hmmm?”
“There is more, love, if you wish it.”
She rolled away from him and ran her hand down his chest. “Yes, there is more.” Her hand continued down over his stomach.
He sucked in a breath when she rested it at last on his still-aching cock.
She stared into his eyes, hers two pools of dark desire. “Will you show me?”
* * *
She wanted more. Even though she still throbbed with the aftermath of that delightful explosion, yet the ultimate experience still awaited her. With Nash and no other.
A fool. She’d been as bird-witted as any woman seduced by a handsome face and a fast reputation. Only she’d been enticed by a promise of freedom that had ultimately fallen short. Had she a grain of sense, she’d have abandoned her independence and latched onto Nash after their first kiss. She should never have left the library until they were betrothed. Stubborn goose. She really didn’t deserve him.
At least her first lover would be one who truly cared for her. She couldn’t hope for another offer from him; he’d sworn not to ask. But she had him for now, and there was so much more of him she wanted to experience.
She ran her hand down his hard chest, loving the feel of his smooth skin. Best be bold. Faint heart never won fair gentleman. Continuing down over his taut stomach, she reached his member, jutting stiffly at attention. A stroke along that heated flesh and moisture pooled between her thighs. She gazed into Nash’s dark eyes, willing him to see her desire. “Please show me.”
He growled and pounced, covering her instantly. His mouth pressed against hers, his tongue driving inside, taking her breath away.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. He continued kissing her until her whole body throbbed with need and she pulled back to ask, “What should I do?”
“Hold on to me.”
She tightened her grip as he rose up, his knees between hers.
He spread her thighs and bent her knees, stretching her wide, then pressed his heat against her opening. He breathed deeply and said, “This will hurt.”
“I hope it does.”
His eyes widened, then softened. “I love you.”
Her breath stopped, her head reeled. She couldn’t take it in. The pressure between her thighs increased, his outer heat seeking her inner warmth.
He thrust his hips and pain shot through her body, twenty times worse than what she’d expected.
She tried to muffle her moans, but the hurt intensified as he continued forward.
“Charlotte? Is it that bad?” His concern endeared him to her even more.
She nodded, swallowing against a sudden ill feeling. “But that’s good, isn’t it? It wouldn’t feel like this if—”
“No, it wouldn’t. Until a moment ago, you were untouched.” He kissed her forehead.
So sweet.
“I’m glad.” It came out through gritted teeth. She didn’t truly feel glad at the moment. It still ached.
“So am I.” He smiled and brushed her hair back. “Try to relax, love.”
Much easier to give that advice when your insides weren’t burning. She let out the breath she’d been holding and the tension eased a trifle. “Nothing has been easy for us, has it?”
“It hasn’t at that.” He pushed forward a little more.
She tensed, but the hurt didn’t increase. When she relaxed, he slid deeper, filling her completely. Without the pain,
the fullness inside her and the closeness of their bodies overwhelmed her.
“Is it better yet?”
“Oh, yes.”
He gave a little groan and began to move, slowly at first.
The sliding sensation started heat building inside her.
His thrusts picked up speed.
“Push against me, love.” The husky tone of his voice sent tingles through her as she lifted her bottom and dug her heels into the mattress. His rhythm steadied as he drove in and out, now deep, now shallow. New tensions began to build within, like the ones before that had given her so much pleasure. She moaned with delight.
“Now that’s a sound I love to hear.” He seized her mouth again, plunging his tongue into her, even as he did the same below. The movements coincided and the tension rose higher and higher until she exploded once more, moaning into his mouth, squeezing him as she released her pent-up passion.
He continued to stroke into her, pounding so hard she cried out when yet another climax swept through her. Nash gave one final thrust and a cry as he spilled himself within her. His heart hammered against her chest as he slumped onto her, then rolled away, panting like her team after a long run.
Her own heart gradually slowed to normal. A delicious lethargy stole over her. She rolled toward Nash, a smile on her lips.
He stared back at her, a deep frown over pensive blue eyes.
“What’s wrong, Nash?” She must have done something she shouldn’t have. But what? Everything he’d told her to do she’d done. Perhaps she should have done something else but hadn’t. Because she didn’t know to do it. Why hadn’t he told her?
“Charlotte.” He turned toward her, the distress in his eyes still evident. “I am about to do something dishonorable.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Please, forgive me.”
She began to tremble all over, as with an ague or illness. What could he do that would dishonor him? Did he intend to abandon her now? A sick dread twisted her stomach and she pushed the thought away. Perhaps he would tell her some confidence now that they were lovers. But what revelation would compromise his honor? Nothing that concerned her, surely. Still, an icy foreboding filled her, so devastating her vision wavered. At long last she had found the love and passion she sought, only to lose it within a span of minutes. She took a deep breath, summoning courage, and tried to smile at him. “What is it, Nash?”
Chapter 31
“Iswore I would not do this, but to my mind, circumstances have changed.” Nash rolled up onto his side to stare fiercely into her eyes. His jaw firmed and his mouth tensed. “I had no idea until you told me, Charlotte, that you were a virgin. And while it should not make a difference, somehow it does. I swore to you I would not repeat my offer of marriage, but having been the first man in your bed, I would ask to remain the only one.”
Her heart hiccupped, then took off like a racehorse.
“I love you, Charlotte.” His gaze softened, the blue of his eyes becoming an intense azure. “I want to wake up next to you each morning in this bed. I want to eat breakfast across from your beautiful face every morning. I want to fill this house with the sounds of our children. But I can’t do that if you will not marry me.” He glanced down and took her hand. “I know you crave your independence, but I will give you as much leave to decide things as is possible given England’s laws. We will arrange for you to keep the rights to Lyttlefield to run as you see fit.”
Of all the revelations today, that one may have been the most touching.
He looked into her eyes and hung his head. “I know you have been disappointed before and lost a dear love.”
She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think of Edward now. She only wanted to think of Nash.
He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb.
Even that small touch set her on fire.
“I know that I could never take the place of that love, but I do think you have a particular regard for me.” He gestured to their naked bodies. “I hope it goes beyond this physical expression, although I do find that an excellent argument for marriage.” He grinned wickedly. “Think of all the pleasant afternoons we could pass as charmingly employed as we have today.”
Her whole body heated. She wanted him so much.
He gathered her into his arms, pressing himself against her once more, stirring her passion in an instant. His body betrayed his interest too as his hard member pushed against her belly. He nuzzled the hollow of her neck, his lips enflaming her as moisture flooded between her legs.
A moan rumbled from within her chest.
“I will break my word of honor, Charlotte, and ask you again, will you make me the happiest man alive and say you will marry me?” He sunk his lips onto her mouth, filling her with his strong essence, pinning her to the bed for what seemed like forever.
At last she shook off his mouth. “I can’t, Nash . . .”
The devastation in his eyes twisted her heart.
She hurried on. “If you will not give me the chance to say yes.”
He lay stunned, as if flummoxed by her words. “Yes?” A bare whisper.
“Yes.” She nodded, her life seeming to click into place as she pulled him toward her. “Freedom means something else entirely to me now. I want the freedom to make decisions, but I also want the security of knowing you will always be there, whenever I need you. I want the right to claim you as mine,” she tightened her grip, “and no other woman’s for as long as we both shall live.”
“Then marry me and never worry about that again.”
She hugged him close. “When?”
He laughed. “Tomorrow? Tonight? We’ve already started the wedding night.”
“Wretch.” She burrowed further into his chest, loving the clean scent of him. “I would like to have a wedding—a real wedding that I can look forward to. Not a mad dash to Gretna Green, nor a cold ceremony that I dread with all my heart.” But there was a fly in the ointment still. “The only thing I regret is giving my father his way once more. He will be smug for the rest of his life over this.”
“Would you let him ruin your happiness—our happiness—because of that?” Nash peered into her face.
“No.” She tightened her grip on him. “Now that I have you, it will take an act of Parliament to rid you of me.” She risked a peek at his face and thrilled to see his tender smile. “I would like to have all our friends and family, and I mean our whole family here at Wrotham.”
“The tenants?” His brows rose, but his smile firmed. “I think that’s a glorious idea. They would love to be a part of the joining of our two estates.”
Charlotte slid her hands down his muscular back and rubbed herself against his shaft. “I believe we should reenact that joining right now, my lord.” She seized his lips, thrusting her tongue into him.
After a few moments he eased himself away. “Much as I would love to continue, my love, I fear we have been far too long away from the festival.” He nodded toward the window, which showed shadows lengthening where earlier there had been none. “We must hurry back to Lyttlefield so you can change before the supper and the final festivities.”
“And what are they, pray tell?” She ran her hand across his taut stomach, trying to tempt him back to their private festivity.
“The crowning of the corn maiden and her joining with the lord of the harvest.”
Charlotte sat up, startled by the image of big Michael Thorne coupled with any of the young girls who were vying for the title of corn maiden. “Joining? They don’t really . . . join or marry, so they?”
Nash sat up on the side of the bed, and Charlotte reluctantly did the same. No more fun for now.
“A hundred or more years ago I hear they did more than the current symbolic kiss to insure the fields’ fertility.” He grabbed his breeches from the floor and looked at her over his shoulder. “If the corn maiden got with child, the lord of the harvest married her in the spring to encourage the fields at spring planting.”
Charlotte shuddered. Traditio
ns were one thing, but such pagan rituals sat ill with her.
About to don his breeches, Nash glanced down and grunted. “Wait a moment, love.” He disappeared behind the screen and she heard water splashing into the bowl. She cocked her head. She supposed she should wash as well. An unpleasant stickiness between her thighs reminded her of their recent lovemaking.
Nash reappeared and she hopped down from the bed. “Do you mind if I . . .” A sudden embarrassment stopped her words.
“By all means, my dear. And I suppose that puts paid to the question of your virginity.” He nodded toward the bed, where a dark stain smeared the white sheet.
Her face heated and she sped behind the screen. Thank goodness she had been with Nash and not that weasel Kersey. From now on she’d count her blessings every day, the biggest among them being Nash.
She finished quickly, then stuck her head around the screen, suddenly too aware of her naked state. “Can you hand me my clothes, please?”
Fully dressed, he chuckled as he gave them to her. “You must not become shy now, Charlotte. You are glorious au naturel. I will enjoy seeing you thus every night. And devilishly glad we won’t have to wait until spring to marry.”
She ducked back around the screen. This would really happen. She had agreed to marry him. The misgivings she should have felt didn’t materialize. Instead, a calmness spread through her until she could answer back, “So am I. The sooner the better.”
“Then name the day, my dear. I will agree to any date that is not too far off.”
“Perhaps during the Christmas season? Everyone will be festive already and our joy will compound it.” She came around the side of the screen to stand at the end of the bed—their bed soon enough—with her back to him for him to do up her stays.
“It is not yet the middle of October. Don’t you think that’s too distant?” Instead of taking up the laces, he slipped his arms around her, cupping her breasts, rolling the nipples until they ached with fullness. Charlotte leaned back against him, moaning with new need. “Nash . . .”
He gave her breasts another squeeze, then withdrew and began to tighten her stays.
