"Oh no, it wasn't that," she assured him, her face aflame. "I, um, liked that part very much. It was that you shared some of your past with me, and I realized that what I wanted was not revenge. What I truly desired was honesty and trust between us—and I couldn't bring myself to reveal my deception. But at that moment, I vowed to myself that I would never lie to you again. That I would try to win your affection through honest means."
When he did not respond, her chin lowered. "Have I disgusted you, Nicholas, with my wanton and immoral behavior? Are you disappointed that I am not the virtuous wife you expected?"
A finger tilted her chin up. The look of fierce tenderness in Nicholas' dark eyes robbed her of breath. "You are far more than I could have ever expected. More than I deserve. The woman I love with everything that I am."
Tears welled in her eyes.
"Helena, do you think you could ever ... forgive me?" Now it was his turn to falter, an aching uncertainty in his tone. "I can make no excuses for my infidelity. I can only say that it was my foolish intention to spare you from my needs. After our wedding night, I could not bear the thought of hurting you again. The truth is ... in my fantasies, I was making love to you." Taking her hand, Nicholas placed it upon his chest. His heart thudded strong and steadfast beneath her palm. "Could you believe me? Forgive me? Here, in my heart, no other has ever existed but you."
Remembering the way he had uttered her name in the depths of his desire, she nodded and said, "And you could love me, knowing that I am a ... harlot?"
In answer, Nicholas caught her in his arms. She reveled in the familiar warmth of his embrace and the whispered words against her hair. "Helena, don't you know it is you, I love? Every part of you—my proper marchioness, brave, sweet wife, seductress of my body and soul."
Joy blossomed within her. "I do love you so, Nicholas. I—"
But the time for talk was clearly over, for his lips claimed hers in a kiss more passionate, more ravenous than she'd ever imagined. She responded with all her heart. With all the loving desire she no longer had to hide.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Nicholas set his wife on the carpet before the fire. Threading his fingers through her silky ringlets, he feasted on the sight of her beloved face. No masks between them. No ghosts. Her eyes glistened with tears. Edging away the beads of moisture with his thumbs, he thought to say something, to express in some eloquent fashion the soul-deep bliss he was feeling, but his throat constricted, and no words came.
So, being a man of action, he showed her. He worshiped the outer corner of her mouth with his lips, loving the way it seemed to naturally tilt up, even in kissing. He kissed the dip on her top lip, the luscious ledge of the lower, exploring the landscape with reverence before seeking the sweetness within. He coaxed tongue along the seam of her lips.
With a small sigh, Helena acquiesced, and Nicholas entered like a starved man, needing the sustenance of her taste, her honeyed flavor. When her tongue met his, his hands clenched in her hair. He went deeper, thrusting inside her mouth. He heard her excited purr, and he growled her name in answer. He plundered her mouth, giving her no purchase, no means of escape. She was his. He possessed her mouth with violent urgency and shuddered when her hands clutched at his shoulders, drawing him closer still.
Soon, the kissing wasn't enough. He had to have more of her. Looking down with wonderment at her kiss-plumped lips, the sultry swirl of gold in her eyes, he brought reverent fingers to her cheek.
"Helena, my love," he said unsteadily, "I want you to know from now on that things will be different between us. I would not hurt you for the world."
"Hurt me?" Helena's gaze appeared unfocused, her eyes soft and blurry with passion.
"I know our wedding night was not a pleasurable experience for you. And at the Nunnery—I did not make love as a gentleman ought." Nicholas ran a callused fingertip along the delicate skin, riveted by the contrast of bronze against white, hard against soft. "Not that it is any excuse, but I had not made love to a lady before you."
His wife blinked at him. "You were a virgin too?"
At that, he roared with laughter. He could not stop, even when his wife said in a none-too-pleased tone, "What is so amusing?"
When she began pushing on his shoulders, Nicholas caged her arms beneath his and looked tenderly into her flushed, annoyed face.
"I have been called many things, Helena, but never that," he said with a grin. He pressed a kiss onto her forehead. "I meant I had never had relations with a well-bred lady before. Of the other sort, I am acquainted."
"Oh."
Her nose wrinkled, and her small huff of feminine jealousy made him feel ridiculously proud. "That displeases you, madam wife?"
"Would you enjoy hearing about my dalliances with other men?"
"I would kill anyone who touched you." The words came out fiercely, from a dark primitive place inside him. "You are mine now, Helena, as I am yours. I will never give you cause to doubt me again."
He lowered his mouth to hers to seal the vow. Tonight, he was determined to properly pleasure a lady. His lady. As he continued to explore the sweetness of his wife's kiss, Nicholas ran light fingers over her shoulders and along the clothed side of her breasts. Feeling her tremble, he carefully cupped one of the full mounds, his groin tightening as the supple flesh overflowed his palm. He squeezed gently, and when he was rewarded by a sprouted bud beneath the thin cloth, he lowered his head, capturing the engorged nipple between his lips. He flicked his tongue back and forth, dampening the material until her nipple stood proudly visible.
Helena's moans grew louder and more insistent. Taking that as a positive sign, he drew down her bodice. Her breasts sprang free, so gorgeously full, the peaks so deliciously pink that he wasted no time in tasting the offered bounty. He trailed a hot, glistening trail from one nipple to the other. He felt a surge of delight when Helena panted his name, and her fingers speared into his hair, pulling his mouth closer, demanding more. He obliged her, her sounds of pleasure making his cock twitch inside his smalls.
Easing her onto her side, he rained kisses down her neck as his fingers worked on the column of buttons down her back. Damn, but there was an army of infernally small pearls, each one guarding the path to ecstasy. With a muffled curse, Nicholas yanked the last ones free, ignoring the dull scatter of beads across the carpet. He would buy her a new dress—a wardrobe of new dresses—just to get her out of this one. When he finally managed to divest her of her gown and undergarments, he lost all power of speech. He stared at his blushing wife as she laid there, her lush white curves juxtaposed against the dark green carpet, a pagan dance of firelight over her skin.
"By God, you take my breath away." Running a possessive hand over her hip, he let his eyes follow the creamy line of her legs all the way to the delicate curls at the top. "I shall never tire of seeing you thus, my love."
He watched in fascination as the blush moved all over her body. His wife ducked her head into the crook of his shoulder, and for a moment he wondered if he had offended her sensibilities with his ardent words.
Instead, she whispered against his ear, "Nicholas, I should like to see you, too. I didn't get the chance, not really, those other times."
Her request sent a quiver through his body. Rising, he stripped off his clothes. Not wanting to hide himself from her any longer, he stood there naked, his hands at his sides. He saw her eyes widen as they took in his arousal. It was so fierce that his cock curved upward, the bulging crown brushing his abdomen. His sac throbbed with a heartbeat of its own. With held breath, he awaited her response.
"Oh, Nicholas," she breathed, "you are so beautiful."
With a groan, he came to her, marveling at the perfect counterpoint between her velvety lushness and his own rigid strength. As he kissed her, he learned the delicate curve of her legs, the delightful dimples of her knees. His hands wandered upward, glorying in the lack of impediment and the feel of skin upon skin. God's blood, how long he had hungered to be with her thus, wi
th nothing between them.
Heady with triumph, he combed through the silky curls of her mound. He coated his fingers in the dew, rubbing it in small glistening circles over her swollen flesh. His wife's hands grabbed at his shoulders as her hips arched in pleading surrender. Obliging her silent demand, he carefully parted her and slipped a finger halfway into her hole.
"Oh!" Helena gasped.
Nicholas gritted his teeth as her muscles tugged at his finger, drawing him in deeper. He wanted to go slow, but her fiery throbbing was beginning to rob him of control. When her pussy pulled at him again, he fed a little more of his finger into her and then more until he was buried knuckle-deep in her wet heat. Watching her flushed face, her half-lidded gaze, he felt near delirious with lust. He began to move his finger.
Helena's reaction was immediate. "Oh, my," she sighed. Her eyes closed as her hips lunged helplessly against his touch. "That feels so very good ..."
The edges of his vision darkening, Nicholas watched his oh-so proper wife impale herself on his hand, her juices flowing into his palm. He answered the tight, desperate glide of her pussy by inserting another finger to join the first; her whimpered cries expanded him with satisfaction. Delving into her luscious folds, he found the little nub and circled it with his thumb. Helena stiffened, her eyes rolling back as she let out a squeak. It was almost too much to bear. The lust pounding through his veins fueled his head downward.
Her initial inhalation melted into a long moan as he tenderly tongued her. The salty sweet taste of her filled his senses as he fulfilled his long-held fantasy of feasting upon her. Overcome with ravenous hunger, he licked and sucked her sex, his breathing going raspy as she cried out his name. He could not get enough of the womanly cream coating his lips and tongue. Exposing the center of her pleasure, he lapped at the vulnerable bud, drawing circles that drew sounds of delight from his wife. Egged on by the sudden tautness of her legs, he suckled her, pulling with gentle suction.
Helena's climax rocked him with unutterable joy and voracious lust. When she shuddered, moaning as the spasms shook her body, he positioned himself over her and entered in a thick, breathless glide. He held himself in rigid check, wanting to allow her time to accustom to his invading thickness. The tight rim of her stretched over his erection, and he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the siren's call of silken muscles, the aftermath of her climax rippling around his shaft.
He felt something flutter against the bunched muscle of his forearm. His lids opened halfway to the sight of Helena looking languidly at him. He almost blew his seed at the erotic sight of her tongue moistening kiss-swollen lips.
"It is considered impolite to keep a lady waiting," his wife informed him in a sultry tone.
Nicholas made a sound, half laugh, half groan.
"I shall endeavor to please the rules of etiquette, of course," he said and began the torturous pleasure of withdrawing from her tight passage. He was determined to go slow, be gentle, and see to her pleasure before his own.
When he pressed in again, Helena arched to meet him, her eyes squeezing shut. Her cry of delight ripped at his self-control. "Oh my. Nicholas, you make me feel so ... oh ..."
"Yes, my sweet?" Sweat glazed his forehead as he slowly repeated the motion. Clenching his jaw, he drew in and out of her intoxicating cunny with ruthless self-mastery. "Do you like this?"
Her lashes lifted, and the lustful, loving gleam in her eyes destroyed him. "I love the feel of your big cock, monsieur," she whispered. "I've dreamt of you taking me, not holding back, giving me everything you've got—"
For him, the world went mad. With an inhuman roar, he drove himself home. All the way, nothing held back. He encountered no resistance—only sweet, snug heat. Bliss pulsed along his shaft, bubbling to the base of his spine.
"Like my cock, do you wench?" he growled.
She smiled at him, so radiantly that his heart skipped a beat. "Je t'aime. Your cock and all the rest of you, my husband. Now will you please make love to me?"
With a groaning laugh, he gave into her. Into himself. The sure, strong strokes made her sigh and him shudder with animal delight. Nothing had ever felt like this, had even come close. Restraint shed from him, and in this new skin he experienced a startling new vibrancy. He felt drunk with pleasure. Bathed in it, joy overflowing every cell of his being. With each plunge, he sank deeper into her loving heat, and still he needed to be closer. Could not get enough. Grasping her knees, he pushed them forward, angling her pussy so that it surrendered further to him, so that each pounding movement of his shaft grazed her sensitive peak.
By now, she was panting his name, her eyes dazed with ecstasy.
He ground his hips, penetrating her so fully that his stones slapped the lips of her sex. "Feel my cock." His head whirled at the sight of her pretty tits bouncing with each thrust. At the perfect squeeze of her creamy cunt. Shutting his eyes, he hissed, "Feel me inside you, loving you, a part of you."
"Love me," she gasped. "Please don't ever stop ..."
"Again." Another plunge and drag, and he was shaking with the effort to hold on. "Come again, love, and take me with you."
As if on command, her pussy began to flicker around him. The contractions grew stronger and stronger, milking him, wrenching a shout from his throat. With her cries of completion echoing in his ears, he slammed into her again and again. Fire sizzled up his spine. Melted the last vestiges of his control. He exploded with unending pleasure, his seed, his very being splintering inside her.
TWENTY-NINE
Helena burrowed into the sheets, resisting the initial tugs of wakefulness. She wanted to stay in her dream forever. She wanted Nicholas to continue kissing her, murmuring sweet words in her ear as he moved within her. Oh, how lovely that felt, the pressure of his thick cock gliding in and out. She nuzzled the sheets. They smelled of Nicholas, a musky male fragrance that aroused her senses. Come to think of it, they felt like him too, all warm and solid and scratchy with hair ...
Her eyes popped open. She blinked once in the pale morning light, but her vision did not change. A low fire burned in the grate. Her line of sight was partially obscured by a hairy chest. Last night returned to her in a flash, and joy flamed so brightly within her that she did not dare to move. She wanted to bask in the glory of waking in her husband's arms—literally, for she was sprawled atop his very muscular, very naked body. Sometime during the night he must have wrapped his jacket around her, for the velvet was the only cover to her nakedness.
"Good morning, my love." Nicholas' voice rumbled under her ear.
Startled, she raised her head to look at him. His hair was tousled with sleep, like a boy's. The lines on his face had eased, and his eyes were smiling. He had never looked more handsome. All at once, desire stirred again, syrupy warmth trickling over her insides. Color rose in her cheeks. She hadn't been awake more than a few minutes and already she ached for her husband's lovemaking. What a wanton she was.
"You're up?" She blurted.
"Most definitely." The smile spread to Nicholas' lips as he shifted his hip. Iron-hard flesh pressed into her thigh. "I've been up for quite a while watching you sleep."
"You were watching me sleep?"
Nodding, he reached to tuck away a lock that had fallen over her forehead. "When you sleep, you look like an angel." His fingers danced along the sensitive shell of her ear. She shivered when his fingers drifted over her eyelids and cheeks. "Your eyelashes flutter like wings. Your skin is as smooth as Devonshire cream." His voice deepened as he mixed his metaphors. "It makes me want to eat you up."
Her heart beat madly at his words, at the way he devoured her with his eyes.
"I confess I am rather hungry too," she dared to say.
His husky laugh rolled over her at the same time he did. Pinned beneath him, she could not help but marvel at his virile strength. She ran her fingers over his shoulders and down his arms. He had made love to her three times during the night, and each time he had aroused her to the point of madness
with his skillful fingers and devilish mouth. How she longed to return the favor.
"Nicholas," she murmured, "would you teach me how to please you?"
"You already please me, Helena," he said, his breath hot upon her neck. She sighed when he licked his way down. "You cannot imagine how much."
"You would find me an apt pupil," she managed. "One who practices her lessons most diligently."
At that, he raised his head. She loved the gleam in his normally somber eyes.
"Eager for a lesson, are you?" he intoned as sternly as any schoolmaster.
Helena swallowed a giggle.
"Yes, sir," she said, meek as a schoolgirl.
"Very well," he said. She could tell he was trying hard not to smile. He rolled onto his back. "Your first lesson, then, is to touch me."
Helena got to her knees, the jacket sliding to the carpet. She looked at the expanse of sinewy male flesh before her. Her hands twitched in her lap. There were so many places to touch, so many intriguing contrasts—the smooth, hard slope of his shoulders, the soft yet coarse hair on his chest. Her eyes moved downward, widened slightly as she appreciated his manhood in the morning light.
Oh my. He did have the satyr beat, didn't he?
By several inches at least.
"Perhaps this lesson is too advanced, hmm?" Nicholas had been watching her all the while, a half-smile on his face. Now he moved to sit up, his voice apologetic.
She placed both palms on his chest and pushed.
Flat on his back, he looked up at her with startled eyes.
She ran her fingers across his chest, noting his quick intake of breath when she brushed his flat nipples. She did it again, smiling now, as she saw that despite the differences between their bodies, there were similarities too. His flesh hardened under her touch.
Her Husband's Harlot Page 27
