Dare To Love

by Trisha Fuentes

  ~~~~~

  “You’re mine now, and as your husband, you have to do what I say…”

  I recalled gasping at his rapid strictness. I had never heard his voice so severe. His tone set off a counter attack but was immediately doused by the odd transformation of his face. His expression altered… which was so bizarre, I was already well acquainted with every feature on his mug but I was suddenly so attracted to this stern air. In fact, his whole demeanor changed, his attitude… that look of his, it made me want to know the texture of his lips, allow him to come across the surface of mine. No longer my equal, no more my comrade, Tommy transformed into someone very interesting.

  “Now, I’m going to kiss you.”

  “You are?” I asked in disbelief. Amazing how forgetful a peck on the lips could be, like the one he gave to me when we were pronounced man and wife. But now, as my heart pounded in my ears like drums, I gazed into his interest and promptly found myself looking forward to our first real kiss.

  He hesitated, and then ran his thumb across my mouth. I stared at him for a moment wondering what the heck he was thinking. I could not wait for him to kiss me…and then he did.

  His lips were nice, soft, and gently pressed against mine. Tender, then deep, then tender again, shooting weird darts directly into my stomach, awakening feelings felt deep within. I didn’t even know those sensations existed, but there they were, and my body wanted more. The ambiance felt amazing; did it feel the same for him? I kept thinking why we hadn’t tried this before. We had been alone countless of times, not chaperoned, we were best friends bursting at the seams with curiosity. We could have easily stole scores of kisses and I scolded myself then and there why I never insisted we at least try.

  Kissing him felt incredible though, unleashing my inhibitions to finally touch his naked body. I reached for his neck, wrapping my arms around his back and shoulders and the physical contact was all it took. There was no going back; I liked how his skin felt underneath my fingertips…I liked it too much. His male skin was rigid, and I was surprised to find so many muscles I hadn’t noticed before. He kept kissing me however, each connection different than the first, increasingly eager and when his tongue suddenly pushed through my lips, a gratifying moan escaped both our throats. I met his ardent exploration in a delicious, languid impatience like we had been kissing for years. It felt so natural…it felt like heaven. Too much heat passed between us now as the tastes of him unlocked my desire to touch, sample and be aware of every gift he had to offer. I felt him tugging at my nightgown, and with the aid of my own hands, I was instantly released from my gown and undergarments, and, Oh God, I did not want the vibrations to end! His hands roamed far and wide, alongside my neck, down my arms, to my lower back, around my buttocks until they reached up and cupped my breast. It only startled me, his heat on my skin; I even anticipated his fondle which made me flinch. He instantly withdrew his hand, but I quickly grabbed it back and led it back down to my breast.

  He looked into my eyes and I got lost again in the deep green of them. “Oh God,” he continued, brushing his lips hotly across my lips in tiny little kisses, “…You are so beautiful Gwendolyn, so sweet, my sweet, sweet girl.”

  Those words…his enunciation… the exhilaration from his expressions produced such a thick fog of passion, my reservations suddenly vanished and something wonderful fell into its place. I watched with round eyes as he kneads the small mound then bent down and leisurely suckled. With his searing mouth, the wet gratification surprised and delighted me, I wanted to offer him something else, but what else could I give him? I watched in awe as Tommy swiftly shifted to the other, licking and filling his mouth, looking every bit as wonderful as it felt. I did not know how to make him feel as good, so I grabbed his head and ran my fingers through his thick black mane. I had never felt his hair before, coarse on the ends from the sea wind, silky-soft by his scalp…and, oh God, the smell of him? Unexpectedly sensing some new essence; my nostrils wide and greedy, sopping up the heavenly scent of soap and masculinity. He quickly brought me to a blistering temperature, an inferno of sensations that needed to be extinguished. My body burned; oh God, it felt like fire, so much heat flared amid my junction when Tommy suddenly covered my body with his, adding pressure where I ached for it the most. I was so ready for him, for it, for whatever he was about to do and felt the bulk of his weight bear down on me with something hard and foreign entering in one lively swoop. I did not know what to expect, but I felt instant pain. My slight yelp buried beneath his lips confirmed my discomfort.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered now, “So sorry.”

  He should apologize; I remembered thinking—that definitely hurt, and then we laid very still…our chests moving up and down soaking in some kind of anticipation. And that’s when I realized what was really happening. Tommy was… inside of me? I felt it move and adjusted to the fullness and all I kept thinking was how mind-blowing it felt…how utterly fantastic to be able to receive the mystery of him in the place where I kept secret.

  I pushed against the breadth and tried to meet his rhythm experiencing tingling convulsions spread through from my stomach up my spine and down my back. When I arched up to welcome the wondrous sensation, Tommy impelled one last time then collapsed into my chest nearly out of breath.

  He remained on top of me heaving, and I did not mind in the least. His body was wet with perspiration, but I did not seem to mind that either. He was suddenly closer than ever, and my heart cried out to get virtually aligned. My mother was right, our wedding night was memorable, and for the first time in my life, I was elated to be a girl, happy to be his and glad to be married. He smelled wonderful that night, and my future didn’t seem so bleak. He was mine forever, and, without a doubt; I found a fresh diversion to share with a cherished friend.

  “Did it continue to hurt?” He whispered against my lips, continuing to kiss me.

  “No,” I blushed, caressing the sides of his cheeks. I wondered if he would want to try it once more?

  He gave me another devastating smile, “Want to do it again?”

  I laughed, and then closed my eyes. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  I remembered thinking how much I loved him and how much I wanted to tell him so. I brushed back hair that mottled his face and, oh God, I loved him with all my heart! Loved how his body felt naked, inside…kissing, on top of me. But then I instantly recalled him not wanting to marry me and right away tears began to swarm my eyes…

  ~~~~~

  Gwendolyn sighed heavily after recalling that wonderful memorable night, and sadness as well as tears quickly approached. Recollecting her wedding night brought forth agonizing deliberations. Was she really in love with Charles? She was incredibly fond of him…always looked forward to conversing with him, but good God, why wasn’t she in love with him? She should be in love with him; she agreed to be his wife! Charles had never brought forth that kind of passion. Not once had he looked upon her with the same sort of eagerness. Was she simply marrying him for companionship? Would their marriage be one-tenth of what her first short-lived union was? Would Charles ever be able to spark fervor in her with one simple glance? A grin…Or just him standing there? No, and Gwendolyn felt troubled realizing the awful truth, and in the same breath, she felt like a fool knowing she once loved Tommy Hollinger so deeply and he never returned her love. It took her years to get over him…and now he was alive? Looking every bit as dashing, even more so, beyond handsome, stealing all her thoughts, she was utterly confused. This titter-totter of emotions had engulfed her so fast; it was driving her crazy. She doesn’t know which way to turn, or move, one moment she wanted to run and hide, the next she wanted to curl up into his arms and stay there forever. His mesmerizing spell was choking her to death, at any given moment, poke her in the arm and she would positively scream!

  And what was this ridiculous notion of thinking Thomas would eventually pop up unannounced behind her? She kept turning her head in anticipation of his sudden emergence
. What stupidity to think he would really want to continue to spend time with her! Resume their past childhood friendship? He was not the same boy, he was a man and everything had changed. What could they possibly have in common now? Memories? Swimming? Frogs? Mary? Oh, God, Mary…he was still in the dark about his daughter and Gwendolyn felt bad swallowing the surprise.

  There…she did it again; turning her head around in hopes of seeing him coming near. But to no purpose, no one was around, it was just she and the darn horse…she, alone with her wandering perplexed stupid optimism. Which was worse? Having him actually standing there unannounced, or her continually wishing she were where he was?

  But Gwendolyn had to remember that they both accepted a pledge, an oath of marriage. She knew Thomas was extremely principled and would never break his commitment. Huh, and that’s a laugh, would he even want to? Would she ever be able to break hers? She hated to know she would be hurting a friend, but, oh God, she would walk away from Charles in a heartbeat if she ever found out that Thomas felt the same. But Gwendolyn knew in her heart that he may not. He never loved her before, so why do so now? He was probably head over heels in love with Katrina nonetheless. Oh, how she envied Katrina at this point! What did she hold to actually earn a voluntarily proposal from an amazing man like the Duke of Norwin?

  CHAPTER NINE

  A carriage arrived at the manor early in the morning. Every day, Thomas would get up at dawn and head out the door and remain absent till evening. Gwendolyn studied his routine daily and decided to sabotage him on his way outdoors.

  Gwendolyn stood centered in the foyer waiting for Thomas to come downstairs. The sun had just peeked over the hillside and a chill had been in the air. Appropriately dressed in her seaside coat, gloves and bonnet, Gwendolyn waited patiently when she heard the sound of a door being shut and quick footsteps stride alongside the stairwell to descend the long staircase.

  “Gwendolyn!” Thomas asked surprised to see her, “What are you doing up so early?”

  “I could ask the same of you. Where do you go?” She asked, judging his buff pantaloons tucked into brown riding boots, his beige Carrick, loose with large sleeves overlapping both hands. God, he looked absolutely tempting…she had never seen clothes look so categorically accurate on an athletic physique.

  Thomas grinned and put his hat atop his head, “Gwendolyn, I am the owner of transoceanic cargo. My vessels are some of the finest in all of England. Someone has to make sure everything is in working order,” he remarked, opening up the door to find Devin about to knock.

  “Good morning friend how was breakfast?”

  “Fine Devin, ready to go?”

  Gwendolyn stood upright and proceeded on with them. “Thomas, can I come along? I won’t be in the way, I promise. There is something I would like to speak to you about.”

  Thomas then bowed to her and led the way. He helped her into the carriage, and to Gwendolyn’s amazement, Katrina was already inside.

  “What a pleasant surprise,” Gwendolyn voiced, feeling a bit surrounded.

  “I ride along with him every morning,” Katrina voiced, eyeing Gwendolyn and then gazing out the window.

  Thomas noted his fiancée’s anger. “By the by Gwendolyn, what is it that you wish to speak to me about?”

  Gwendolyn gulped and shut her mouth tight. There was no way in hell she was going to tell him about his daughter with an audience. “I would like to visit a tailor I heard so much about.”

  Thomas looked at her curiously, “A tailor?” He quipped, crossing his arms about his chest. “Does this tailor have a name?”

  “Madame LeFleur…I hear she is the best seamstress in all of London.”

  Katrina arched a brow and snickered, “Why, she is. I need to visit her myself, why don’t I accompany you with an introduction?”

  “That is not necessary,” Gwendolyn voiced, eyeing Thomas seated next to her, his hands between his thighs, casual and unaffected by the altercation that was about to awaken.

  Gwendolyn then gazed over at Devin; he too was busy admiring his fingernails, biting and clipping them with his teeth. “I insist, Gwendolyn, Thomas has an account there, don’t you dear?”

  Gwendolyn quickly eyed Thomas and caught his deliberate distraction.

  “Madame LeFleur? Why yes, I do have an account there.”

  “Then it is settled. We will drop my brother off at the shipyard, while Thomas escorts us both to Madame LeFleur’s.”

  When they arrived at the shipyard, Gwendolyn got out of the carriage a bit overwhelmed. Not only was being enclosed with Katrina uncomforting, the shipyard took her by surprise; it was a massive, giant productive seafaring industry.

  “I haven’t been here since I was a child,” Gwendolyn recalled, walking around the construction.

  “Still pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Thomas stated proudly, suddenly feeling Katrina’s gloved hand wrap around his forearm.

  Gwendolyn turned away from the assembly and focused on Katrina’s hand binding Thomas’ arm. A rage of protectiveness entered her heart as her eyes met his. “And what exactly is being built here?”

  Thomas cleared his throat, “I generally build commercial vessels built for merchants, three-mast, square-rigged carriers. But, as of late, built for merchants, three-mast, square-rigged carriers. But, as of late, footer. A well-trained crew could load her heavily with armed cannons, easily taking out any pirate ship. My team has constructed one hundred, thus far.”

  “And all this, used to be my father’s?”

  Thomas began following Gwendolyn unconsciously; she began walking around farther into the construction which concerned him. “Gwendolyn, watch yourself, you never know when a plank might come loose and conk you on your head.”

  Gwendolyn laughed, but did not bother to look his way. “I know where to walk, thank you,” she said, holding her skirts and continuing to walk the grounds.

  “You know Gwendolyn, I was thinking,” he carefully verbalized with Katrina still at his heel, “That since your station has made my life most comfortable, I would be willing to pay you clearing with the divorce. How does fifty thousand pounds sound?”

  Katrina pulled back on his arm and choked on the implausibility that he would offer her that much money. Thomas turned around and scowled at her.

  Gwendolyn now looked his way as he turned around to meet her cynical eyes. He seemed serious…too sincere for some reason. “Fifty thousand pounds? Are you really all that prosperous?”

  Thomas stood mesmerized by her uncertainty. Why would she even think that he was not? Or would not be? “I forgot to mention, a year. The figure is based on an amount that would be offered annually.”

  Gwendolyn’s heart escalated. Annually? Was he insane? Did a plank conk him on his head? “I will have to decline Thomas,” she revealed modestly, “I do not need anything from you—we have all that we need.”

  Thomas stared at Gwendolyn like she had three eyes in the center of her forehead. Almost immediately, he was inundated with questions from his manager and had to leave Gwendolyn momentarily. Katrina did not dare leave him alone and accompanied him back to the office on the wharf where he generally did business.

  Gwendolyn stood idle and surveyed the vastness of the great shipyard. Timber was scattered amongst the ground like modest sticks. Woods of every variation: rock maple, white oak, cedar and pine. Fifty thousand pounds indeed…Gwendolyn next ambled over to one man centered amid the chaos giving orders. “Excuse me, sir? May I have a word?”

  The man’s eyes lit up and quickly walked over to her. “Yes mum, watch yer step, what is it that ya need?”

  “May I ask you a question?”

  The man kept staring at her; women have been to the shipyard before, but none as radiant as she. “Yes mum.”

  “Have you worked here long?”

  “Yes mum, all m’life.”

  Gwendolyn’s eyes grew round, “Really? Then you must have been under the employ of the Earl of Suffolkshire.”

  He lo
wered his gaze, “Yes mum.”

  Gwendolyn noted his dismal response. “Why the look of dejection?”