Despite his own needs, he’d already decided to take their lovemaking slowly—or at least as slowly as he could stand—and ease her, hopefully without fear, toward the consummation of their union. Taking a breath, he turned the knob of the connecting door and stepped into the room.
He’d expected to find the bedchamber swathed in near darkness, with only one or two candles left to burn. Instead, there were half a dozen at least, their combined illumination providing enough brightness to drive off the heaviest night shadows and leave the entire chamber swathed in what he considered a rather seductive, golden glow.
In spite of the candlelight, he didn’t see her immediately, his gaze moving first to the sitting area before roving farther afield. His pulse gave a sharp kick when he did discover her—in bed, her long, raven hair spread across the pillows in a dark, luxurious cascade. Dear Lord, how exquisite she is!
Approaching, he barely noticed the soft texture of the thick, wool carpet beneath his bare feet. Moments later, he halted beside the bed, his gaze going to hers.
“Hallo,” she whispered, her gentle greeting trailing like a blaze of fire through his system.
“Hallo.” He drank in the sight of her, tracing the purely feminine shape of her delineated beneath the sheet. At the foot of the bed lay a length of white silk. He studied it for a moment, puzzled at first before understanding dawned. His pulse kicked again. “Are you naked under there?” he demanded, his voice low and rough as sand.
She nodded, her lashes lowering slightly in an unconscious display of seduction. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Mind! His arousal throbbed out his answer. “No,” he croaked. “I don’t mind.”
Her lush violet-hued eyes warmed with obvious pleasure.
A long moment elapsed, then she pulled back the sheet and revealed herself fully to him—her invitation clear.
Given his age and experience, he wouldn’t have thought there was anything left in this world that could shock him, but watching his young bride display herself in such a daring and unguarded way left him momentarily speechless. His body suffered no such difficulties, however, his shaft thrusting forward as if it hoped to reach her, nearly managing to part the folds of his robe in the effort.
When he said nothing, she hesitated, her shoulders suddenly curving inward as she reached to cover herself again.
“Don’t,” he ordered.
She froze and gave him an uncertain look.
“Just lie back,” he commanded in as gentle a voice as he could muster. “Just let me look.”
Visibly forcing herself to relax, she did as he asked, settling back against the mattress and feather pillows to let him gaze his fill. And he did, tracing over her alabaster skin, across her lovely shoulders and arms, then on to the ripe thrust of her generous breasts, their pink nipples drawn into tight little berries beneath his inspection. Gliding downward, he surveyed the convex dip of her flat belly and the gentle flare of her hips before moving to the shapely length of her legs and the dark triangle of curls between. Even her feet were fashioned as if wrought by a master hand. In all his life, he’d never seen anything so exquisite, nor wanted a woman with such raw hunger and unbridled lust.
“God, Gabriella,” he said in a harsh tone. “Not even in my dreams did I imagine how beautiful you are. I am humbled to know you are mine.”
The smile returned to her mouth—a mouth he was abruptly desperate to kiss. “Would you…”
He raised a brow. “Would I what, sweetheart?”
“Might I see, too?”
One of his eyebrows went up. So she’s curious about me, is she? About the way a man is fashioned. Well, I shall be more than happy to oblige. A grin spread across his face, suddenly realizing he was in store for what should prove to be an exciting night. After a brief pause, he reached for the tie on his robe.
Gabriella waited, her heart beating so hard and fast it was a wonder the organ didn’t explode from her chest. She couldn’t believe what she’d done, shocking herself, and at first, she thought, Tony as well. But he didn’t look shocked anymore—quite the contrary, the expression on his face was one of unrestrained delight.
Peeling off his robe, he tossed it to the foot of the bed where the black silk joined the white cloth of her nightgown, the two garments puddling together in a kind of intimate embrace. Yet she had only a second to consider such matters before her attention turned completely to him, her eyes riveted as saliva pooled against her tongue.
Like her, he hadn’t bothered with night attire, his body bare—gloriously, spectacularly bare! He stood before her without an ounce of modesty or shame, apparently content to let her inspect him at her leisure. And why should he not when he was so superbly formed?
She’d known he had broad shoulders and a long, strong frame, but she’d never before realized how powerfully built he was, his body taut, all bone and heavy muscle. He radiated vitality and strength, his skin carrying the same golden hue as his face so that he had an almost burnished glow in the mellow candlelight.
A swath of black hair curled over his magnificent chest, spreading outward before narrowing down into a line that ran across his lean, flat stomach. Dark hair dusted his extremities as well, over his arms and along the breadth of his solid thighs, then onto his firm, muscular calves and long, tapered feet.
Giving her an indulgent look, he made an easy turn, slowly revolving in place so she could see his back as well as his front. Her breath caught, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she took in the new view. From his sculpted shoulders down his lean spine her eyes roved, her gaze pausing for long, long moments on the firm, twin globes of his finely shaped buttocks. Then he finished his turn to face her once more, leaving her only one final part to inspect.
Jutting out from his body, his staff was thick and heavy and long, its shape angled at a high, almost arrogant tilt, as if it knew just how impressive a beast it was. She marveled, amazed by the sight, as well as by the realization that he was fashioned so very differently from her. Superlatively so, in her estimation.
Without knowing what she intended, she lifted a hand. “May I…touch?”
His flesh twitched, seeming to grow even larger, as impossible as that seemed, a shiny drop of fluid suddenly forming on its swollen, reddened tip. And abruptly his face darkened, all earlier displays of indulgence gone. He gave a tight nod, his eyelids growing heavy. “Yes. Touch me,” he agreed, his voice a near growl.
Her own body ablaze and trembling, she scooted closer, then wrapped her hand around him—or at least tried to, since he was too large for her fingers to meet. She gasped at the sensation, his staff hard and warm, yet soft at the same time. Unsure where she found the courage, she stroked him, gliding her hand upward in an untutored caress.
He stiffened more, hips arching forward subtly to slide her fingers higher. Her grip loosened in surprise, but before she could retreat, he grabbed her hand. “God, don’t stop. Here, like this,” he said, gently showing her exactly how he wanted to be touched.
After a minute, he released her hand, giving her the choice of whether or not to proceed. She did, each caress growing longer and firmer and more certain as her confidence built. She increased her grip just a fraction and stroked. As she did, a harsh moan escaped his lips, a full body shudder raking his frame. “Jesus, Gabriella,” he said, pulling slightly away. “Are you sure you’re really a virgin?”
She blinked and withdrew her hand. “Of course, I am! Why would you think otherwise?” She stared at him, scooting backward against the sheets as a terrible thought occurred. Is my behavior too brazen? Have I disgusted him before we’ve even consummated our marriage? “Are you saying I am immodest, indecent? If you don’t like it, I can—”
“Of course, I like it,” he told her, his midnight-dark eyes intensely blue. “A great deal, obviously, since you nearly made me lose control. The last time I did that was during my own first time when I was nothing but a randy, imprudent youth. And no, you’re not immodest. You are p
assionate. Uninhibited. Bold.”
Some of her unease faded. “And is that all right?”
“Of course, it’s all right. Better than all right. In fact, I wouldn’t want you any other way. Promise me you won’t change, Gabriella. Swear you’ll stay the same warm, spirited woman you are right now.”
A tremulous smile curved her lips. “I shall endeavor to do my best.” Lying back, she held out her arms. “I want you, Tony. Come and make me your wife.”
“You’re already my wife,” he said, planting a knee onto the mattress as he moved into her embrace. “After tonight, you’ll be my lover.”
With a ravishing passion, his mouth came down on hers, his fervor seeming to hold back nothing as he plundered her lips, his hands making skillful forays across her naked body that set her aquiver. She returned his kiss with equal ferocity, giving him as much as she knew how, his every caress broadening her experience, deepening her sensual awareness and understanding. Confident now that he enjoyed her touch, she gave herself permission to roam, letting her hands glide over his taut, muscular flesh, smiling when she felt tiny tremors vibrate beneath his skin.
He kissed her harder, longer, practically eating her up in his obvious need to give as much pleasure as possible. Desire burned deep, a now familiar ache forming between her legs. But tonight her hunger was heightened, her ardor stronger and more insistent, the slide of his bare flesh against hers creating a friction that was half bliss, half torment.
On a whimper, she clutched him tight, urging him on even though she didn’t know exactly what to expect. She understood enough of the basics, though, to worry that they might not fit together, especially after seeing proof of his impressive width and length. Tony, however, seemed to have no such qualms, and so she pushed aside her doubt and let him lead her wherever he willed.
His mouth captured her breast, scattering her thoughts as he drew the tip inside to suckle against his tongue and teeth. Moaning, she shifted, the ache within her growing sharper, keener. His hand covered her other breast to rub and caress. Her sensitive nipples tightened to hard points, a throaty groan rolling from her throat when he gently bit one delicate tip and pinched the other, moving quickly to soothe each with warm, wet swipes of his tongue.
Her hips bucked, moisture gathering low. His hand found her there, a finger sliding inside. Her hips rose again as he stroked her, her thighs parting in readiness for more.
“That’s right,” he murmured, kissing her ear and throat. “Let me in. Let me help you find your pleasure.” And he did, working within her until she thought she might shatter, until all she knew was craving and hunger and need.
Just when she thought she couldn’t stand any more, he pushed her onward, his mouth closing over one nipple again to draw hard, then harder still. The edge of his teeth raked her flesh as he eased a second finger inside her, stretching her full. Seconds later, he finessed her with his thumb, and she was lost.
She shook as an unstoppable tide of pleasure surged through her, her spine arching as rivers of delight pooled and eddied, her mind dulled to everything but Tony and the mesmerizing power of his touch.
He scattered kisses over her breasts and in between before trailing lower. Over the flat plain of her stomach he roamed, astonishing her when he paused to dip his tongue into the indentation of her belly button, swirling around the edge in a way that made her quake. With his fingers still lodged inside her, he continued to stroke, in and out in a compelling rhythm, as he leaned downward and used his free hand to caress the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Tenderly, he eased her legs even farther apart, then settled his large frame between, resting on his knees.
Peering upward across the length of her prone body, he met her gaze, his eyes glittering sharply with desire. “You’re still not as ready as I’d like.”
I’m not? she wondered in confusion. Though far from experienced, she didn’t know how she could possibly get any more ready, not with need sizzling through her bloodstream, her heart pumping as if consumed by fire. He’d brought her to a peak, but had never let her desire cool, reviving it instantly with his continued kisses and caresses. For a moment she thought to question him, but then he leaned down and sent her senses whirling skyward.
Her eyes flew wide at his first touch, his lips burying themselves in a place she had never imagined he might kiss. Or suckle, she marveled, his mouth and tongue drawing upon her with a suction that made her shift and whimper. A protest rose in her throat that died almost as quickly, his hand going to her hip to hold her steady for his delectation.
And he did seem to be enjoying himself, guttural masculine noises of satisfaction drifting to her ears as he feasted on her moist flesh. His tongue swirled and dipped and lapped, driving her instantly mad. Flames engulfed her body as the delicious torture continued, every pore growing damp with perspiration. No longer in control, she writhed in his embrace, a flood of wetness pouring from between her legs that might have embarrassed her were it not for the desperate state of her need.
As for Tony, he seemed to approve of her reaction, driving her ever upward with the relentless caress of his mouth and hands, his fingers continuing their sleek, internal massage in a way that left her helpless and panting for completion. Then, just when she thought she was on the brink, needing no more than a tiny push that would topple her over to the other side, he stopped.
She cried out a protest and reached down to his head in hopes of making him continue. Instead he eluded her, rising upward, his frame large and powerfully male as he leaned back on his haunches. Sliding her forward, he draped her spread legs over the hard musculature of his thighs, then with a careful, final positioning, clasped her hips between his hands and thrust inside.
She felt his entrance all the way to her toes and yet there was no discomfort, only a unique feeling of fullness and warmth. With a little smile, she relaxed, comforted by the fact that she had indeed been wrong about their ability to fit together. Her gaze went to his, surprised by the tension she saw in his jaw line, a faint tremor riding just beneath his skin as if he were holding himself under a very tight leash.
Then he moved again, pressing forward to gain more purchase. A glimmer of pain twinged within her inner muscles, her gaze flying to where he was joined with her. Only he wasn’t joined, she saw with a gulp, realizing that no more than the very tip of him was lodged inside her. Staring, she studied his length and felt her pulse trip with sudden fear.
“Tony, I—”
“Shh,” he hushed in a soothing tone. “You’ll be fine. Relax and trust me.”
Trust him? How could she, when the pain was increasing with every move he now made? Thrusting again, he gained what felt like yards but was probably only an inch or two. She bit the edge of her lip and closed her eyes, forcing herself to endure when all she wanted was for him to stop. Twice more he thrust, rocking against her in increments that seemed almost cruel. And yet the rational part of her knew he was trying to be gentle, to allow time for her body to adjust. Only she couldn’t adjust, his penetration stretching her so much she feared he might rend her before this was over.
A tear leaked from the corner of her eye.
With a whispered apology, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against her temple, kissing the drop away. As he did, his new position pushed him deeper, lodging him far more fully than before.
“Almost there, sweetheart,” he encouraged. “Here, wrap your legs around my back, high as they’ll go.” Reaching down a hand, he helped her reposition her hips. “There, you’ve got it.” And then, with one last push, he slid the rest of the way in, his possession complete.
Is that it? she wondered. Is that all?
He kissed her, taking her lips in a slow, tender mating that made her love him in spite of the pain. If this gives him pleasure, she thought, then I will bear it. Somehow, I will find the strength—for his sake. But as he continued to kiss her, as his wonderful hands glided again over her body, something changed, the pain fading away beneath a rising
surge of desire.
Moments later, he began to move, drawing nearly out, only to plunge back in again. His tongue met hers, tangling in a glorious slide as their bodies did the same. She arched, wrapping her arms over his shoulders to hold on tight as he increased his relentless pace.
Her breathing grew ragged, each stroke better than the last, deep then deeper still, as he buried himself in her time and time again. As if attuned to her very thoughts and wishes, he leaned up to palm one of her breasts, rolling her aching nipple between his fingers before taking it into his mouth. He drew upon her with a sweet, wet suction that left her completely enthralled—literally his to command.
And command her he did, encouraging her to meet his thrusts with tentative ones of her own, her enjoyment growing as a delight she’d never known ripened in her core. That’s when she felt it, an impossible rapture held just out of reach, driving her ever onward toward completion. He must have felt it too, plunging faster as their ardor increased to an almost frenzied pace.
And suddenly her world flew apart, a keening cry of ecstasy ripping from her throat as draught after draught of stunning pleasure shook her in its grip. She quaked, helpless beneath the onslaught, her mind going temporarily dark and blank.
As sense trickled back, she became aware of Tony moving within her still, his large hands clasped on her hips as he drove himself fast and deep. Perspiration dotted his skin, an expression of naked arousal on his face as he fought to claim his own satisfaction.
Abruptly he stiffened, a harsh shout leaving his lips as he took his release, one that shook him, long and fierce. When it was done, he sank downward and buried his face against hers.
On a groan, he gradually levered himself away. “I’m too heavy.”
“No,” she denied, loath to let him go.
But she need not have worried, as he rolled her with him to tuck her snuggly against his side. Brushing back her hair, he kissed her temple. “Sleep,” he urged.
Moments later, she did.
His Favorite Mistress Page 20
