by Liana Lefey
She raised her chin a fraction and fixed him with a glare.
“I mean it, Victoria. No more solitary journeys out here. It’s too dangerous. You’re damned lucky nothing has happened to you.”
“You think to forbid me riding where I please on my own lands?”
“No, never that,” he said with a sardonic laugh. “I know better than to forbid you anything, unless I want to ensure it occurs. But I will request that you not go alone to any place I deem unsafe.”
“I’ve been taking care of myself since my mother died,” she retorted. “I’m a grown woman, and I’ve no need to be coddled and protected.”
“You may not think so, but I must beg you to indulge me,” he said sternly. “As your husband, it’ll be my duty—nay, my privilege—to see to your happiness and safety. You would not deny me the right to protect my greatest treasure?”
He took a step forward and raised a hand to caress her cheek, but Victoria took a quick step back. “You should know that I detest being patronized,” she said. “Greatest treasure indeed! What rubbish! Do you think me a fool?”
His expression changed from cajoling to stern. “Victoria, I’m deadly serious. You cannot run about the countryside alone and unprotected. If anything happened to you I’d—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I told you, these are my lands, I’ve a gun, and I’m not afraid—”
“And that’s the problem.” Her protest was cut off as he swept forward and crushed her in his arms, claiming her lips forcefully.
Victoria struggled, still angry, for a brief moment before the melting sensation turned her knees to water and the rest of her to fire. His kiss was harsh, demanding, and his arms were like bands of steel about her. Try as she might, she couldn’t budge, couldn’t push away. His strength was overwhelming. A thrill of fear mingled with the excitement running rampant through her.
He lifted her up off her feet and hauled her over to the blankets she’d so carefully laid out.
Again, Victoria fought for a moment, wanting to be released so that she could undress herself, but he was simply too strong.
Kneeling, he rolled her over onto her back, covering her with his huge body. While holding her down with one hand, he hitched up her skirt with the other.
His brief look of surprise upon encountering her breeches made Victoria giggle—until he took the flap in his fist and yanked down, rending the fabric. Her squawk of dismay was muffled by his mouth as he again kissed her hard. She tried to rise, but he held her down effortlessly.
“Those were my newest pair!” she scolded the instant her lips were released.
Grinning, he ignored her, jerking down on the breeches again. Growling, he ground his hardness into her pelvis until she gasped. His hand rose to her breasts, tightly constrained by her riding habit. His eyes gleamed mischievously as he took hold of her neckline.
She squealed in protest. “Julius, no! What on earth would everyone think if I returned looking as if I’d been ravished?”
“But I am ravishing you, Victoria. Right now. You can’t stop me. You haven’t a gun in your hand, and your strength is no match for mine. If I wanted to, I could take you by force with no effort at all.”
“But this isn’t by force,” she said, feeling wicked as she wriggled beneath him.
“Perhaps not,” he conceded, his eyes taking on a satisfyingly glazed look. “But what if I’d been a stranger who’d come upon you unawares while you were puttering about in here?”
She gave him her wickedest smile. “I’d have fought much harder.”
“And I’m telling you it wouldn’t have mattered!” he shouted. “You could have bitten, kicked, scratched, yelled, and screamed, and it wouldn’t have made any damn difference whatsoever to a man bent on rape. And God help you if there was more than one, Victoria. You’ve no idea the horror you’d endure before they killed you!”
She heard the fear in his voice, felt it in the trembling of his arms. “Your concern is appreciated, Julius, truly. But—”
“I don’t think it is,” he snapped. “I’ve seen such things abroad, during my travels in Africa. I’ve witnessed the aftermath of tribal wars, seen the atrocities committed against the women of the villages. Many of those who survived wished they hadn’t. I heard them crying out to their heathen gods in the night, begging to join those that had been given the ‘gift’ of death.”
His words were tinged with an echo of sadness so profound that it made her very soul ache in sympathy.
Julius tried to keep his emotions under tight control. He hadn’t told her, but this was the reason he’d come back home. He’d tried to escape by traveling the civilized world of Europe, abandoning the wild, untamed places, seeking to wash away the memories and banish the nightmares. But all the running, liquor, and light skirts in the world would never even begin to erase what he’d seen. Finally, he’d come home, seeking the solace of familiar surroundings in the hope of attaining some measure of peace.
“I had no idea,” Victoria whispered, staring at him.
“Thank God for that!” he murmured fervently, coming back to the present. “I beg you to heed my request: do not come here alone again. You’ve been fortunate thus far, but eventually your luck will run out. You must promise me never to return here alone.”
She nodded. “I won’t. Not without you.”
Julius made to rise, but before he could do so, she stretched up and kissed him softly, tenderly, cupping his cheeks between her palms. He paused, quivering with tension. “Victoria, I meant for us to pass the time here talking, getting to know one another better.”
She kissed him again, brushing his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. “I am getting to know you better, my lord.”
A tremor ran through his body. “Victoria, I will not—”
“Make the same mistake twice?” she cut in sharply. “You will not leave me in a state of torment this time, Julius! We’ll be married soon, anyway.”
Her smoky eyes burned into him, glittering from beneath heavy lids as she boldly ran her hand down between their bodies and stroked the aching stiffness there.
His breath caught as his midsection tightened. “It may matter a great deal to you when your acquaintances begin counting the months prior to the birth of our first child!”
She stroked him again.
“I cannot be held responsible for my actions if you continue thus,” he warned. “My restraint will only withstand so much, sweetheart.”
“Mmm. A challenge,” she mused, increasing the pressure below and massaging his thickening length. Arching up, she kissed him, drawing him back down.
He rolled to the side to avoid crushing her, and she again surprised him by carrying the motion through with him until she lay atop. He fought to keep his hands at his sides. “I would not dishonor you so,” he whispered, fighting the urge to do just that.
“What dishonor? I am to be your wife. What does it matter if we enjoy the pleasures of the marriage bed a little before the vows are spoken? We certainly wouldn’t be the first couple to do so,” she said with a chuckle.
“Because I wish to do this—” He saw her eyes take on a hard gleam as if she could read his mind as it shouted properly! “I wish to do this in a place of comfort and privacy. Not in some cold, run-down hovel in the middle of nowhere. You deserve better.”
“It’s quite warm and comfortable, and I can assure you that no one will disturb us here,” she insisted.
“That isn’t the point.”
“I want you,” she stated bluntly. Leaning down, she kissed him again.
He enfolded her in his arms, pulling her close. After only a moment, however, she pushed back off his chest and began to unlace her gown. Her fingers shook, making it difficult.
The hell with it. She’s right—we’ll be married soon anyway. He brushed her hands aside and took over.
The gown quickly fell away from her gleaming shoulders, revealing the tightly laced corset that held her breasts captive. Reverently,
he kissed the tops of those enticing swells before hauling her up and flipping her around. Plucking at the laces, he slowly released her from her sartorial confinement.
She wriggled, and he groaned at her change of position. He began yanking at the laces. Tossing aside the beastly contraption, he moved on to the ties of her skirt, working feverishly until it, too, sagged about her waist.
His hands now roamed freely from her shoulders to her hips. “You don’t need a corset to enhance your shape, love. You’re perfect the way God made you,” he murmured as he admired the deep curve of her waist with his hands. He reached around to cup warm, full breasts, his palms lightly grazing her rapidly hardening nipples.
He wanted to see those rosy gems.
Again, he wrapped his hands about her tiny waist and lifted, turning her about to face him. Her breasts were perfection, gleaming in the firelight, beckoning him. Closing his eyes against the sight, he tugged her down and nuzzled her neck, letting her sweet-scented hair tumble about his shoulders like a veil of midnight.
She shifted forward, presenting her breasts like a bounty.
He could take it no more. Flipping her onto her back, he took a ripe bud into his mouth, circling it with his tongue until she moaned and clutched at his hair.
Repeating his attentions on her other breast, he moved back and forth between the happy pair, teasing, flick-flicking with his tongue until she whimpered and her hips bucked beneath him. Withdrawing, he rocked back on his knees to stare at her.
“Victoria, are you absolutely certain? Once we do this, there is no going back.”
She looked at him and lifted one raven brow. “If you stop now, I will kill you.”
Surprise at her ragged threat made him chuckle. He’d thought she might tell him she loved him. “You’re a shameless wanton, that’s what you are. And soon you’ll be my shameless wife,” he teased, bending to kiss her once more. He shuddered as she ran her tongue across the corner of his mouth. Reaching down between them, he tugged at her skirts and petticoats until they slid off. Her stockings and garters he left intact, not wishing her to catch a chill. It was still frigid in the room, despite the fire, and he could see the faint dimpling of gooseflesh on her skin.
He had no complaints about the cold, himself, for his body fairly burned at the sight of the paradise laid out before him. Hair the shade of deepest night spilled about her perfect face like a dark, turbulent river, the firelight glinting in it like a thousand tiny embers caught in a net. Her skin glowed warmly in that same soft light. It became stained with a rosy blush as she followed his lingering gaze.
His gaze roved freely, memorizing her. When he came to the mysterious dark triangle nestled between her legs, he stopped. Hidden there, he knew, was the seat of her pleasure—and of his. Spreading her knees slowly, he smiled.
She turned her head away, clearly embarrassed.
“Sweetling, you have nothing to be ashamed of,” he murmured, stopping to reach up and caress her face until she again opened her eyes. He dropped little kisses on her cheeks, nose, chin, and mouth. “There is nothing about you that is not lovely, Victoria. Do not be afraid.”
She nodded, and after one more kiss, he moved back down to heaven’s gate. Slowly, he ran his hands up her thighs until at last he parted her. There lay the glistening jewel of her femininity, revealed in all its glory. Dipping into her swollen flesh, he marveled at the slickness there.
His soon-to-be-wife was an incredibly sensual woman.
Gently he massaged the swelling bud, watching as her lids fluttered and finally drifted shut. She lay quiescent, surrendering to his touch as he stroked her, until her hands clenched the blankets on either side.
He shifted, replacing his hands with his mouth and plunging his eager tongue into her fevered flesh. The salty sweet taste of her was like divine nectar, and he reveled in her gasp of pleasure as the stiffness in his breeches became almost unbearable.
Withdrawing, he stood and stripped off the offending barrier with such speed that Victoria had barely enough time to open her eyes and protest the deprivation of his warmth before he kicked his breeches away.
Her eyes widened as she gazed upon his jutting member, which was thick and heavy with desire.
Smiling, Julius pulled off his waistcoat and shirt with much less haste than he’d done his breeches, giving her time to appraise him before he knelt beside her. “If you wish to wait, I’ll understand.”
She shook her head, blushing. “No. If we do not—not…”
“Make love?” he supplied.
She nodded. “If we do not, they may not agree to let us marry. I wish to take no chances.”
“Very well,” he said softly, kneeling beside her.
She reached out a tentative hand, but then jerked it back as though burned. “I don’t know how to do this,” she said, her cheeks darkening.
“Just touch me as you would wish to be touched,” he answered. Gently, he guided her hand the rest of the way.
HIS COCK JUMPED to rigid attention at her touch, and Victoria squeaked, then laughed in embarrassment.
“It has a life of its own,” said Julius. “Which is why men often find themselves at the mercy of the opposite sex.”
“It’s so very…different from what I expected,” she said, running her hands up and down his shaft, fascinated to see it thicken yet further. “As a child, I once saw my cousins at play in the stream. They did not look like this.”
“Those were mere boys,” he said, his expression becoming somewhat pained as she ran a curious fingertip around the head of his manhood. “A grown man is very different from his childhood self, just as a woman is different from a girl. You did not always look thus.”
“No,” she admitted, smiling. “But the changes in me weren’t quite so…drastic.”
“Perhaps not to you, but to a man, there is an enormous difference. You are no girl, Victoria, but a young woman in the full bloom of her beauty.”
“You are beautiful, too,” she said, running light fingers over his chest. She paused to tangle them briefly in the sprinkle of russet curls there before journeying farther down. She molded his shape beneath her palms. Solid muscle and sinew lay just beneath the warm surface of his skin. How could he be so hot in this freezing room? It was as though a fire burned within him, radiating heat like yon hearth.
He stretched and she watched, mesmerized, as the cords of his calves and thighs stood out. Back at their country estate, she’d on occasion watched the blacksmith shaping iron, awed by his great strength. Julius was like that all over, only leaner, less bunchy.
Desire filled her again and, reaching out, she boldly guided his head to her breast.
He obliged her, drawing gently upon it, nipping and nibbling until she whimpered with pleasure. After only a moment of this exquisite torment, however, she pushed him away and down.
Grinning, he wedged himself between her thighs and dipped down to taste her again, teasing her most sensitive flesh with the lightest of touches.
At last, when she could take no more, she embedded her hands in his hair, demanding satisfaction.
He rose and guided himself to her slick entrance, but hesitated as the smooth, rounded tip of his cock pressed against her folds, parting her just a little.
The sensation was maddening.
“Victoria, there is still time to—”
She clutched him, wrapping her legs around his torso and pulling him down. With a sharp, lancing pain, her virgin’s barrier gave way before the force of his entry. She cried out, her entire body tensing.
He stilled, kissing away her tears, murmuring endearments into her ear. “It will never hurt like that again, my love. I promise you,” he swore. “If you wish to stop…”
She shook her head.
“Then I will move again only when you are ready.”
True to his word, he remained immobile, allowing her body to adjust to his invasion.
Such fullness. Victoria could feel every pulse of his throbbing shaf
t within her. As the discomfort slowly wore off, she experienced the urge to move.
Cautiously, she wriggled a little.
A stab of something like pleasant lightning flickered through her. She did it again, and another shock of warmth ran up her belly and down her legs, making her toes curl.
He let her take the reins, moving as she would. When she pulled him deeper, he growled with satisfaction as she fully embraced him.
Back and forth they rocked as one, the pace building, the tension mounting until, eyes wide, Victoria cried out as she climaxed for the first time in her life. Every nerve was flooded with ecstasy as pleasure radiated out from the place where they were joined.
He pressed harder, shifting slightly upward in time with each spasm and, incredibly, the convulsions within her intensified. Gasping, she closed her eyes and clutched at him, helpless against the tide. Her gasps as she peaked for a second time were drowned out by Julius’s shout of exultation as his seed burst into her in a hot rush.
Julius awoke with a groan but did not open his eyes. He didn’t wish to break the spell. He smiled, feeling the rise and fall of Victoria’s gentle breathing as she slept against his chest. Smiling softly, he stroked her hair.
She is mine. He would speak with her father immediately upon returning to Richmond Manor and obtain a special license tomorrow. He breathed deep, savoring the moment.
The soft settling of a log in the hearth roused him. There was a powerful chill in the air. He should get up and tend the fire. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and looked at the hearth to see no more than the barest embers aglow.
He glanced at the door. The light coming in around the edges was tinged with red.
Sunset.
“Victoria, wake up!”
She slowly stirred herself and sat up, blinking. “What? What is it?” she asked, pushing her hair out of her eyes.
“It’s nearly sundown. We should already be nearly back by now—we must hurry!” He wriggled out from beneath her and began gathering their scattered clothing, tossing articles to her from across the room and cursing the cold. “Hurry!” It was unpleasantly frigid in the little hut, a sure sign the weather outdoors was turning unfriendly.
