Goldie and the Three Behrs

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Goldie and the Three Behrs Page 3

by Goldie


  Joseph sprang to his feet and lifted her into his arms. “I want to kiss you now. Is that all right?”

  She wet her lips and smiled. “I think it’s customary.”

  Without further discussion, Joseph pressed his mouth to hers. His lips, though not as full and comfortable as his brothers, did manage to bring a fan of pleasant warmth centered from her core. Where the want of William had been fast and furious, Joseph’s kiss offered a small spiral of desire that, if nurtured, would fulfill her.

  He pulled away. “Tell me, dearest one. When do you want to marry?”

  “I don’t know. In a year? Two?”

  His smile faded to a frown. “Truly? You want to wait that long?”

  She nodded. “It takes time to plan a wedding, and it gives us time to learn more about one another. I’ve yet to meet your father…”

  “Why not a small affair?” he said, pushing back a lock of hair that rested against her cheek. “Frankly, Goldie, I’d like to wed as soon as possible.”

  “But—”

  “Why wait? It is what we both want.” His brows furrowed with obvious concern. “Isn’t it? Or are you putting it off because you are unsure?”

  From the open doorway, her father bustled in. God only knew how long he stood there, eavesdropping. Anger rankled her, and she bit her tongue, hard. “Of course she is sure. When do you want the wedding, sir?”

  “Saturday.”

  “One week?” Goldie could hardly believe her ears. Surely he hadn’t meant to change her life so drastically, so quickly. She felt as though the world around her had shifted. Her future had become a massive boulder tumbling down a steep hillside. It was both frightening and out of control.

  “All right,” Herbert said, offering Joseph an outstretched hand.

  The pair shook on the deal as if Goldie were a horse to be bought and sold. Her stomach roiled, and tears slid from her eyes. Only this time, there was no one present to offer her a handkerchief.

  Sitting on the settee, she buried her face in her hands. Neither man seemed to notice, both only too happy to congratulate the other.

  Chapter 3

  Goldie lay in her bed and stared up at the heavy oaken canopy. Her bed, Joseph’s bed, the innkeeper’s bed, whoever it belonged to, it pressed hard and unyielding beneath her. Even the pillows seemed leaden. Still she lay there, her focus fixated on the tapestry that adorned the bed’s ornate frame.

  The days leading up to the wedding had flown by in a blur of fittings, flowers, and tears. Not hers, but the tears of her mother. Deep-seated sorrow stole her tears and left behind bitter fury.

  “I so wanted a big wedding,” her mother had sobbed. Yes, well, she would have liked that, too, but the wedding day had not been her mother’s nor hers. It belonged to Joseph and her blasted father. The rapidity of the wedding, the sneaky feel of it, and no doubt most everyone in the village would be counting to nine. That was once they found out about the secret nuptials. But why did they need to be kept secret? Why couldn’t she at least been allowed to have Lottie and Mary stand beside her? And why hadn’t William or the other brother been in attendance?

  But what did she care? The deed was done, and now the only thing standing between her and being a proper wife was the consummation.

  Consummation. Even the word made her cringe. What did she know about pleasures of the flesh? She knew the basics of lovemaking. That the act would hurt the first time and that it was a wife’s duty to please her husband. But why couldn’t it be more? Why couldn’t it actually be a pleasure for her?

  She rolled onto her side and waited for Joseph’s arrival. He had deposited her in their room at the small inn on the outskirts of town and rushed off. Not, she realized, an illustrious start to a life together.

  And God but she wanted to get this part over with and get on with the business of being the mistress of their home, a home she longed to lay eyes on.

  At the sound of the door opening, Goldie sat up, dangling her feet off the edge of the bed. “Joseph?”

  “Aye, love, it’s me. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “No,” she admitted, her mouth suddenly dry, her hands trembling with nerves. “I was waiting for you.”

  “Glad to hear it. I had a bit of business to tend to, and I was needed back in town. Your father needed to speak with me. He is as excited about our nuptials as I.”

  She watched as Joseph crossed the room and began to undress. He started with his snowy-white necktie. He was a beautiful man, and bedecked as her groom, she grudgingly admitted that she felt a sense of pride standing at his side.

  “Yes, he is rather happy to be rid of me,” Goldie lamented.

  Joseph chuckled. “Don’t think that, dear. Think of it as he’s glad to be gaining a son, or perhaps a son’s purse?” The joviality left his tone and a seriousness took over. “Regardless of his motives, I’m glad to have you as my bride.”

  He unbuttoned the top button on his shirt and lifted his hand. “Come here, my sweet. Help me get ready for bed.”

  On quaking legs, Goldie made her way to her husband. Adrenaline coursed through her limbs and had her wondering if perhaps she should have insisted on a longer engagement. An engagement ought to include country walks, dinners together, more time to get to know what to expect from the man one would be married to for the rest of one’s life. Damn her father and his greed.

  Now, standing before him, she awaited some sort of instruction.

  “Give me your hand,” he whispered, and she obeyed, setting her trembling fingers into the warm fold of his grip. “Why are you shaking?” he asked, brushing a kiss across her knuckles.

  “I’m worried that I’ll do something wrong. That it’s going to hurt. That I won’t please you.”

  He lowered his face level with hers, his blue-eyed stare soft with pleasure. Inhaling deeply, she relaxed a little. Maybe Lottie had been right. His glorious orbs seemed true blue. Didn’t they?

  “You won’t do anything wrong,” he said. “I’ll take extra care, and you do please me, Goldie. So much.”

  He pressed his mouth to hers, and she allowed herself to take pleasure from his kiss. She allowed herself to overlook the hardness of his lips and allowed the warmth of her desire to flow freely as he slipped his tongue between her lips.

  She opened her mouth wider, her tongue shyly sliding across his. Never had she been kissed so fully. Not even William had ventured so far.

  Leaning against her husband, she forced back the thought of his brother. After all, Joseph was the man who respected her enough to give her his name. It was he who respected any children that the union would bring enough to give them his name. He was where she belonged, and, by God, she would make her marriage work. With renewed determination, she grabbed hold of his shirt.

  He pulled free and stared down into her face, his eyes alive with surprise. “You take me aback, Goldie.”

  “How so?” she whispered, unbuttoning the next button in line.

  “A bold virgin you are.”

  “Curious,” she said, coming to her tiptoes. “Kiss me like that again, Joseph.”

  “You liked that?”

  She nodded. “I felt it all the way to my toes.”

  At her urging, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, setting her down upon the unyielding mattress. Lying atop her, he did as she asked, but this time the kiss was hard and demanding. The need coming from him so strong she couldn’t help but respond.

  Weaving her fingers through his hair, she was glad to know the man possessed one bit of softness. His curls were as sleek and smooth and pleasant as a newborn kittens.

  Again, he pressed his tongue between her teeth, and again she greedily accepted the intrusion. A pleasured moan escaped her throat. The man could kiss, thank goodness.

  He removed his mouth from hers, and using that clever tongue, traced a steamy line down the length of her throat. Her flesh reacted to his attention. Every bit of her bloomed with heated curiosity. What part of her bo
dy would he grace next with his touch? Flares of desire and raw need exploded on the uncharted territory that was her body.

  “Joseph.” She whispered his name.

  “Aye, love.” With nimble fingers, he quickly unbuttoned her gown, and, pushing open the fabric, he rose to his knees. “Dear God, I have married Venus.”

  She smiled up at him, his face animated in the light cast from the many lamps that glowed about the room. “Is that a good thing?”

  “Damn it, woman, I’ll be the envy of every man in London.”

  “London?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He wrapped his long, hot fingers around her breast, swirling the nipple with the rough pad of his thumb until the crimson mound peaked. Taking the aroused bead into his mouth, he sucked the delicate skin as gentle ripples cascaded through to her core. Moisture flooded from her body, trickling from her womanhood and puddling on the bed beneath her.

  “Dear lord,” she muttered, lifting her pelvis and grinding her hips against his abdomen. “I want more,” she groaned. “More, Joseph.”

  “Oh,” he chuckled, “I did hit the marital jackpot.”

  She smiled up at him, and he kissed her, the pressure searing the deepest recesses of her body. Pulling his shirt apart, she longed to run her hands across the muscles of his chest. Oh, how she needed to curl her fingers in the warmth of his skin.

  He shrugged free of his shirt, and she pulled his steamy body to hers, her breasts pressed against his chest. Her eager hands traveled down the length of his back, solid muscle meeting her touch.

  “Tell me you want me, Goldie. Tell me,” Joseph whispered against her lips.

  “I do want you.”

  Taking hold of her hand, he set her fingers atop his cock. It felt rigid and massive beneath the confines of his breeches. “Do you see what you do to me?” He hissed. “Since seeing you that first day, I have longed to plunge myself deep inside your beautiful box.”

  Her breathing became labored as fear of the unknown and curiosity battled to take control. But no, it was too late to stop now, and the truth was, curiosity had won the moment he took her hand.

  She slowly slid her fingers down the length of his shaft. The groan that followed was deep and full of yearning as it echoed through the room. He sprang from the bed and unfastened his pants, kicking them to the floor. His features were wild with his passion. He stood before her, fully naked and fully aroused, his slender body glorious in the flickering light. “My darling, I will try to take it easy,” he vowed. “But I have never wanted a woman so much. Never.”

  She lifted her hand to him. “Do take care,” she said. “But do come back to bed.”

  Fascinated, she watched the muscles of his chest flex as he crawled across the mattress toward her like a stealthy panther on the prowl. Her desire for him spiraled to near manic levels.

  He pushed her legs apart, and with fervent fingers, he stroked the hair that covered her sex. Slipping his index finger along her slit, he slowly warmed her clitoris. The pleasure of his touch sent her closer to an edge she never knew existed before this night.

  She bit her lower lip. “What are you doing?”

  “Pleasing my wife,” he said.

  Small gasps popped from her lips as, slowly, his fingers grew closer to her sheath. She squirmed beneath him, wanting him to take her, near frantic for him to press himself inside her.

  He pushed her legs farther apart and rolled fully atop her. “Are you ready?” he asked. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his breathing had become labored.

  “Yes,” she panted. “Yes, I’m ready.”

  Slowly, he pressed his cock between the lips of her cunt. She braced herself, knowing that this was where the discomfort would happen. Despite his methodical pushing and controlled entry, pain shattered through the warm glow of his lovemaking. Tears burned her eyes, and she cried out. He stopped and brushed a kiss atop her forehead.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, the girth of his manhood filling her up and stretching her beyond comfort.

  “It hurts.”

  “I know,” he whispered. “You’re so very snug.” He slowly began to move, rocking gingerly back and forth, the heat of his motion easing her ache. Warmth seemed to rush to the area, and with each thrust, pleasure overtook pain.

  “Oh,” she whispered. “That’s better.”

  He smiled down on her, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “It’s wonderful.” Increasing his pace, she closed her eyes and focused on the spot that twinged with each insertion. It quivered and quaked, causing her breath to catch in her throat.

  “Joseph,” she cried out, lifting her hips to meet his rhythmic pounding.

  “Oh, God,” he called out, slamming harder and harder into her.

  She tilted her pelvis, and he hammered at the spot that promised a release she found she desperately needed and never knew existed. “Yes, there,” she whimpered, and with a renewed power, he ended her yearning and sent ripples of delight cascading across her body. Her moans echoed through the still night air.

  His pleasured moans quickly joined hers, his breathing ragged, every muscle in his body taut. “Dear, Goldie,” he cried out, his face contorted into a pained mask, his lower lip tight between his teeth. He groaned, and, with a shudder, she felt the release of his seed deep within her.

  A contented smile crossed his lips, and he lowered his head to her bosom. “Magnificent,” he muttered and eased himself from her body. Rolling off her and onto his back, she moved closer, her head on his shoulder.

  He wrapped his arm around her, holding her sweat-soaked body close to his. “Is it like that every time?” she asked breathlessly.

  “God, I hope so.”

  * * * *

  Goldie reached over and touched him. The night shrouded him in a dark cloak. His body was warm, and her skin chilled. The spring air that drifted in from the open window rested upon her like dew on morning grass.

  “Joseph, I’m cold,” she whispered, moving closer, the feel of her husband against her a pleasure she hadn’t expected. In fact, everything about Joseph was a surprise.

  He rolled over and faced her, his breath hot against her skin. “You want me to warm you up?” he asked, the seductive tone of his voice igniting desire into the lowest point of her body.

  “Please?” She smiled, and he rolled atop her.

  “With pleasure.” He pressed his mouth to hers in a kiss so powerful her pussy burst with moisture. Rising on his elbows, he brushed his lips across her forehead. “But first, I want to share something with you.”

  “What is it?” she asked, her body protesting his departure.

  He lit a candle and, going to his valise, returned with a black silk scarf and a velvet rope. Turning to face her, his expression took her breath away. The need in him was so strong that her body reacted without a single touch.

  He returned to the bed. His hard cock rested against his belly. The large head shone purple, and she flushed, readying herself for what was to come.

  “What are those for?”

  “A special treat,” he said, straddling her waist with his long, sinewy legs. “It will intensify our lovemaking.”

  She bit her lower lip and, despite the twinge of anxiety that warmed her veins, curiosity once again got the better of her. “I don’t see how. But you’re the master, and I, simply a novice.”

  He snorted. “You’re wonderful.” Taking her by the wrists, he secured her to the headboard.

  “Is this necessary?” She didn’t like feeling trapped.

  “It’s all part of the game,” he whispered in her ear, his steamy breath sending currents of desire rushing to her sex. Gone was the apprehension, in its stead the need to be fulfilled. He gently tied the scarf around her head, covering her eyes. With the world around her dark, she waited for what was next. Would he kiss her? Plunge his cock deep within her cunt? Fondle her breasts?

  She waited. “Joseph?”

  “Aye, love, I’m here.”

  “What are you
doing?” she asked, the cool air from the window sending a chill across her naked body.

  “Admiring my wife,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper.

  She yearned to feel his touch, to touch him in return.

  “Joseph,” she mumbled. “I feel out of sorts.”

  “Shh,” he whispered. “Just feel.”

  As if he sensed her need, she felt the mattress shift, felt the warmth of his body. His mouth hovered above hers. She knew by the hot breath that fanned across her face. She parted her lips to taste him, to welcome him. Finally, he kissed her, and the intensity of the kiss had her squirming beneath him. Her fingers itched to entwine in his silky curls.

  He moaned when she slid her legs apart to receive him. He pulled his lips free from hers. “Don’t stop, Joseph.”

  “I have no intention of stopping,” he said, cupping her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples until they tightened. Again she squirmed, and yet he continued his pursuit of pleasure. This time he took a nipple into his mouth, tantalizing the aroused peak, flicking it with his tongue. The ecstasy was so intense, she twisted in her bonds, and he chuckled.

  “Am I driving you mad?” he asked, his delight audible in his wicked tone.

  “Yes. Do hurry.”

  “No,” he said and traced a scorching line with his tongue down past her navel, stopping as he reached the top of her pussy.

  “Now what are you doing?” She gasped, the sensation sending fresh moisture to her already sopping womanhood.

  “Teaching you the pleasures of sex. I already told you, and maybe one day you’ll see fit to take me into your mouth.” Using his fingers, he spread her folds open and buried what could only be his face into her, his tongue now focused upon her clit. Rolling his tongue in small circles, he had her close to an orgasm within seconds. All her attention seemed focused on what he would do next, where he would touch, how he would please her.

 

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