by Marie Force
“I can’t seem to make it stop.”
“Are you so nervous to be alone with me?”
“I don’t want to be.”
“I want you to be entirely comfortable with me. We will only do what feels good to both of us. I promise.”
“I-I may not be ready to . . .” Her face burned with embarrassment, and she wished she could take back the words. A man like him wasn’t used to simpering virgins. He was far more accustomed to doxies who fell on their backs with their legs spread, ready to give him whatever he wanted.
“Shhh. Don’t fret. I only want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”
She nodded because she found that words escaped her when he looked at her with such tenderness and desire. And the last thing she wanted to do in that moment was think of him with other women.
“Could we remove this?” he asked, his fingers sliding over the shift that covered her.
Every part of her felt overly warm at the thought of being entirely naked before him, but she mustered her courage and managed a slight nod. Since she’d become a woman, only Evangeline had seen her unclothed. She hoped her new husband would be pleased by her.
As he raised the shift over her hips, his hazel eyes darkened and his lips parted.
“You are so incredibly lovely,” he whispered. “I still can’t believe you agreed to marry me.”
She ran her fingers through his blond hair, because she could now that they were legally wed, and learned the silky, soft texture as the strands slid between her fingers. “You saved me from a fate worse than death by marrying me.”
“And in return, you saved me from myself.”
“Did I?”
“You certainly did. My life had no meaning or purpose until I strolled into Lady Crenshaw’s ballroom and found my purpose.”
The shift slid up over her belly, and he pressed a warm kiss to her fevered skin.
“She was surrounded by fools dazzled by her exceptional beauty, but I saw her, the woman who would fidget if her mother allowed it, a woman who was unimpressed by the ritual taking place around her.”
Madeleine sucked in a sharp, deep breath, moved by his words as much as the slide of his lips over her skin. “I saw you across the room and wanted to know you.”
He looked up at her. “Did you?”
She nodded. “I hoped that you would find your way to me.”
“I was drawn to you by a power bigger than myself and stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced before.” He captured her lips in another of those kisses that made her feel weak and strong at the same time. When their lips finally parted, her shift cleared her head and he reached for her, bringing her bare chest into intimate contact with his. “Ah,” he gasped. “Sweet Jesus.”
Catherine had been right when she said that the feel of his skin against hers would be like heaven.
For the longest time he only held her close to him while she worked up the nerve to touch him, to run her hand over his lanky, muscular back. Every inch of him was tight with tension. Between them, a hard column of flesh throbbed against her belly.
“Touch me, Madeleine. Anywhere you wish to. I am all yours.”
Emboldened by his gruffly spoken words, her hand traveled down to his waist.
“Don’t stop there. Touch me everywhere.”
She slid her hand over the rounded globe of his buttock, drawing a deep, tortured groan from him. And when she squeezed it, he gazed down at her with an expression gone fierce.
“Did I do something wrong?”
A dimpled smile transformed his fierceness into tenderness. “You did it too right. You’re making me forget that you haven’t done this before.”
“Teach me, Simon. Show me what to do. I feel so . . .”
“What do you feel? Tell me.”
“Inept, inexperienced, foolish, unworthy—”
His kiss stopped her tirade and made her forget what else she’d been prepared to say. “Nothing about you is inept or foolish or unworthy. You are beautiful and sweet, and you will not speak poorly of my wife, do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” she said with a small smile.
“That’s better. Now close your eyes, and don’t worry about anything other than pleasure.”
Madeleine did as he requested, giving herself over to him and the sweet kisses that moved from her lips to throat to shoulder and below. With her eyes closed, she was utterly unprepared for him to take her tight nipple into his mouth and suck. Her hips lifted off the bed, seeking something.
“Easy, sweet love. Nice and easy.” He switched sides and did it again and again and again, until she was half out of her mind with need.
And then he moved lower, with kisses to her ribs and belly and . . .
“Simon.” She covered her most private area with her hands. He couldn’t possibly mean to—
Taking hold of her hands, he moved them to her sides and settled between her obscenely spread legs and blew a light stream of air against the hair that covered her.
Mortification spread through her in a fiery fever that converged in a tight throb between her legs. And then . . . Oh dear God, was that his tongue? There? That couldn’t be something people did in their marriage bed. Could it?
“Relax, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good.”
He expected her to relax when he had his tongue there and his fingers . . . oh, oh God, inside her . . .
Madeleine let out an inelegant squeak that was quickly followed by a moan when he sucked on the tight ball of nerves between her legs as he slid his fingers in and out of her. A quickening sensation had her breathing faster and gripping the sheets into tight fists as she held on for dear life.
“Let it happen, sweet,” he whispered before sucking on her flesh again and igniting a firestorm that blazed through her. “Yes, yes, like that. Just like that.”
Before she could process the shock of what had happened, an impossible feeling of pressure quickly usurped the pleasure. She twisted her hips, trying to get away.
Simon’s hands on her hips held her still as he pushed into her. “It’ll only hurt this one time, my love, and then after that it will feel divine. I promise.” With that, he pushed hard and drew a sharp cry from her.
He gathered her in close to him, holding her tight while his manhood throbbed inside her.
The longer he held her, the more difficult it became for her to remain still.
She squirmed, needing him to move or do something, anything to relieve the ache that seemed to intensify with every second he remained lodged inside her.
“What do you need, love?”
“I don’t know,” she said, feeling inept and foolish again.
“Do you trust me?”
She looked up at the face that had become so familiar and so dear to her and nodded. “I trust you, Simon.”
“Hold on to me.”
Madeleine wrapped her arms around him, and gasped when he pushed even farther into her before retreating and doing it again. It didn’t feel good, per se, but it didn’t hurt anymore. Rather, it burned as she struggled to accommodate the length and width of him.
“You feel so good,” he whispered, “so hot and tight and sweet. I’ve never felt anything better than this.”
Buoyed by his words and the intense expression on his face, Madeleine relaxed as much as she was able to and tried to move along with him.
Simon threw his head back and bit his lip. “Yes, like that.” Raising himself up so his arms bore most of his weight, he picked up the pace, seeming to lose himself in her before surging into her one last time and crying out. “Madeleine.” He came down on top of her, breathing hard and fast.
She caressed his back, hoping to bring him comfort.
“Sweet Madeleine.” After a long period of quiet, he raised his head and met her gaze. “Did I hurt you terribly?”
She shook her head.
“I never want to cause you another second of pain.” He kissed her sweetly before withdrawing from he
r.
Madeleine was horrified to see blood on his manhood.
He followed her gaze. “It’s perfectly normal for women to bleed the first time.” Rising from the bed, he went into the water closet.
She heard water running before he returned with a warm cloth that he held against her tender flesh. The heat felt divine, and Madeleine marveled at how quickly he’d brought her around to feeling comfortable with him in their unclothed state. Now that she had the chance, she took a closer look at his chest and noticed the light sprinkling of golden blond hair that arrowed into a darker shade around his manhood.
When her visual tour made its way back to his face, she found him watching her with amusement dancing in his eyes. “Do you see something you like?”
She nodded.
“As do I.” He leaned in to kiss her again, and she realized her lips were actually sore from their intense kisses. “I like everything about you.”
“Can we . . .” She swallowed the nervous lump that settled in her throat and forced herself to look him in the eyes. “Can we do that again?”
“You will be too sore.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Trust me, you will. For the rest of the day, we will take it easy, but tomorrow . . .” He placed a kiss between her breasts. “Tomorrow we will do it again.”
Madeleine couldn’t wait for tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Long after Simon and Madeleine retired upstairs, Catherine and Derek remained in the drawing room, where they were served a light tea per his request. After the day they’d had, neither of them was particularly hungry.
Mrs. Langingham came in with a fresh cloth and more ice for Derek’s bruised hand.
“Does it feel any better?” Catherine asked when they were alone again.
“It’s fine.”
“I want to thank you. For what you did for my father.”
“I didn’t do it for him,” he said, giving her a pointed look that let her know he’d done it for her.
“I’m sorry about the money. It was an obscene amount.”
“I don’t care about the money. I care about your safety—and Madeleine’s. And I am thankful that we have seen the last of Lindsey, if he knows what’s good for him.”
“I am thankful for that as well, but I’m sorry you were hurt in the process.”
“He was hurt worse,” Derek said with the small grin that had made her dizzy with desire before it had all gone so wrong between them.
Catherine returned his smile. “Yes, he was.” She glanced shyly at him. “The kick at the end was my favorite part.”
“You were watching?” he asked, astonished.
“Of course, we were watching. Our faces were pressed to the window.”
Derek winced. “I didn’t intend for you to see my baser instincts on full display.”
“I found your baser instincts rather stimulating.”
Shocked and thrilled, he said, “Is that right?”
She nodded and looked down at the floor, feeling embarrassed and oddly vulnerable.
He took her hand and brought it to his lips.
Catherine gasped with surprise at the tender gesture.
“This has been a long and emotional day. I would like to retire early with my wife, if my wife is amenable.”
“That would be nice, Your Grace.”
“Derek,” he said, tightly. “My name is Derek.”
The word he wanted so badly to hear sat on the tip of her tongue, but something kept her from saying it. She wanted to be certain that he would fulfill the promises he had made to her before she surrendered entirely to his wishes. What he’d done for her and her sister today had gone a long way toward softening her heart toward him once again, but she’d learned to be wary where he was concerned, knowing how badly he could hurt her.
He tucked her hand into his arm and escorted her upstairs, the path becoming somewhat familiar to her. But it would take far longer to acclimate to the opulence of his home with its priceless furnishings and gilded details. Even the modern water closets were a new but most welcome marvel.
“Would it be possible to have a bath, Your Grace?”
“You may have anything you want, Catherine,” he said, his jaw set with displeasure at her use of his title. “You need only to ask, and it shall be done.”
“I would like to meet the tenants and their families.”
“I will take you myself tomorrow.”
“Do you have the time for that?”
“I will make the time for you.”
“Would you be opposed to my working with the children to teach them to read? I very much enjoyed my work with the children in my former home and would like to continue it.”
“I would not be opposed as long as it doesn’t take you away from home too often as I would miss having you here with me.”
They went into her room where Julia flitted about, laying out nightclothes.
“That’ll be all, Julia,” Derek said in that regal tone Catherine was still getting used to hearing from him.
Julia curtsied. “Good evening, Your Graces.”
“Allow me to assist you,” Derek said when they were alone. He went into the bathing room and turned on the water to the tub, the pipes clanging loudly. Then he returned to unbutton her gown and untie her corset.
Catherine felt shy and undone by his attention. She’d fully expected him to become like other aristocratic husbands and leave the details of life to his staff. That he wanted to tend to her personally touched her and further thawed the wall of ice that had formed around her heart. She turned to him, holding her dress over her bosom.
“I want you to know . . .”
He caressed her cheek. “What do you want me to know?”
“I see the effort you are putting forth to make things right between us, and I am trying to come to terms with everything that has happened.” She looked up at him, feeling madly vulnerable. “I would just ask that you try to be patient with me.”
“I will give you all the time you need to come to terms with your new situation. I understand that what I did hurt you deeply, which was not my intention.”
“I know that, and I understand why you did it.” She shuddered at the thought of being shackled to Lindsey.
“And I understand that my deception cracked the foundation under us. It will take time to fix the damage. But you should know that I will give you all the time you need. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to fix it, to win back your love, to have you look at me the way you did during the blissful days we spent at the cottage.”
His heartfelt words brought tears to her eyes.
He kissed her forehead. “Enjoy your bath and join me in my room when you’re finished. I’ll be waiting for you.”
Catherine watched him walk away, standing in the middle of the opulent bedroom that had once belonged to his mother, thinking about the things he’d said and done to convince her of his sincerity. So far, he was nothing at all like the boorish aristocrats she’d known before him, and it was becoming clear to her that she couldn’t judge the man she’d married on the same scale as she judged the vile Lord Lindsey, her uncle or even her own father.
She finished undressing and went into the bathing room to sink into the delightfully warm water in the lavender-scented bath her husband had drawn for her.
Her husband.
The Duke of Westwood, a man who was well regarded according to her sister, and not at all like the upper-class men she’d known before him. No question, his deception had hurt her deeply, but his rationale couldn’t be faulted. She did believe that Derek loved her as much as Jack had. And until she had reason to believe otherwise, she would commit herself to making their marriage work.
It would take time for her to adjust to her new position and to fully absorb the expectations her husband—and the society she’d disdained—would have for her. But she would try her best to live up to those expectations, beginning with a visit tomorrow to the tenants and t
heir families.
If she could teach the children how to read and continue to cultivate the duke’s literary collection while helping him to care for the estate and his many obligations, she might be able to carve out a happy life for herself as a duchess, even if it was not a life she would’ve wanted for herself had she been given the choice.
As the water began to cool, she heard his voice telling her he’d be waiting for her, and her body tingled in anticipation of another night in his arms. She was still as attracted to him as she’d ever been, and after his actions that day to defend her and her sister, she wanted nothing more than to show him how indebted she was to him.
* * *
While he waited for Catherine, Derek sat in front of the fire in his room, drink in hand as he stared at the flickering flames and thought about the eventful day. His injured hand throbbed and ached, but he’d gladly put up with the pain if it meant that Lindsey was permanently removed from their lives. Derek was under no illusions that he’d seen the last of the earl, for he was, after all, Catherine and Madeleine’s father. At some point in the future, perhaps the sisters would find a way to make peace with their father, but Derek hoped it wouldn’t be any time soon. Men like him, who treated women as a commodity, disgusted Derek.
When the earl should’ve been protecting his precious daughters, he had been using them as pawns in a high-stakes game he was woefully unprepared to play. No wonder Catherine was so repulsed by the nobility. Men in his social strata could be a boorish, pampered, overly indulged bunch of slugs at times. Determined to prove to her that he was different, he would take her to the village tomorrow to meet the tenants. He would encourage her to pursue the things that interested her. He would show her the world and give her anything she desired.
All she had to do in return was love him. Memories from their first days together, the best days of his life, filled his heart and soul. They could have that again. He knew it without a doubt. If only he could convince her to give him another chance. In all his thirty years, he’d never known desperation like that which he’d experienced when she froze him out of her affections after his lies were revealed.
He could only hope that he would never again feel the way he had then. Today had been a good day. He’d been given the opportunity to show her how he intended to behave as her husband, from procuring the clothing she would need to continue the dig, to showing her the library, to paying off and disposing of the evil viscount. Would it be enough to win back her love?
