Too Far to Whisper

by Arianna Eastland

  A few short moments later, Shadow abruptly broke away from her and sat up. Rosalind stared up at him, her eyes wide and bewildered as she prayed that a sudden attack of conscience – as had been the case in the past – had not caused him to change his mind. She was certain she would die of humiliation if Shadow refused her now, especially since their last intimate encounter had been such a disaster. Her cheeks still burned whenever she allowed herself to think back to that night at Adam’s brother’s house.

  Shadow witnessed Rosalind’s look of concern and knew she feared he might reject her again, but nothing was farther from his thoughts. She was so beautiful, so tempting, he could not wait to see, to caress, every inch of her silky skin. He reached down to lift up her nightdress and pull it off over her head. Rosalind assisted him, sitting up so the garment could more easily be removed. She then lay back, naked and unmoving, her eyes fixed on him as his hungry gaze traveled down the length of her, lingering on the triangle of golden curls at the base of her flat belly before sweeping back up to fasten on the full swells of her breasts. Hastily, he tugged off his breeches and kicked them aside, then once again moved to lie on top of her.

  Rosalind became keenly aware of Shadow’s nakedness as he slid up to capture her mouth in another searing kiss. Unlike that night at Adam’s brother’s house, there was no leather garment separating them now…only flesh against flesh. Rosalind knew that if she paused to consider…really consider… what she was about to do, she no doubt would panic. But just for tonight, she decided, she would allow herself only to feel, not to think.

  Shadow’s tongue darted between Rosalind’s lips, probing the depths of her sweet, warm mouth as his hand slowly slid down to massage her breast, his fingers paying particular attention to its firm pink nipple, which he gently rolled between his thumb and forefinger. Rosalind gasped into his mouth, her body unconsciously moving against him, silently urging his hand to continue its manipulation.

  Only when she felt the hardness of Shadow’s arousal against her thigh did she begin to have second thoughts about what she was doing. A frightening vision of Nathaniel mercilessly pounding into the red-haired wench flashed before her. She could not help but wonder, with a great deal of apprehension, if Shadow intended to take her in the same forceful manner. If he did, she held no doubt she would be torn apart.

  Shadow felt the sudden tensing of Rosalind’s body beneath him and instinctively sensed she was concerned about surrendering her maidenhead to him. Although he was growing almost desperate to enter her, he was determined to hold back. He vowed not to give in to his body’s demands until Rosalind’s desire for him was so intense, so all-consuming, she would beg him to take her.

  Breaking away from the sweetness of Rosalind’s mouth, he lowered his head to kiss the soft white column of her neck, his lips like small flames against her skin as they slowly kissed their way down to her breasts. Skillfully, Shadow drew her nipple into his mouth and flicked his tongue across it over and over again. Rosalind shivered as his actions caused one deliciously new and thrilling sensation after another to ripple through her – sensations that no one had seen fit to warn her about – sensations that rendered her incapable of thinking rationally. She wondered if anyone ever had died from the sheer pleasure of them.

  Shadow’s mouth continued down to Rosalind’s navel, his tongue dipping into it as his hand slid between her legs. He massaged the silky softness of her inner thighs, his deftly exploring fingers inching their way upward, where they continued to rub. Rosalind moaned in total abandon, unconsciously parting her legs to allow Shadow easier access. So great was her desire, he easily slid a finger into her, stopping when he reached the barrier of her maidenhead. He moved his finger in small circles inside her, causing Rosalind to rotate her hips beneath him, encouraging him to continue. He could feel her hot, wet, inner walls clasping around his finger as if attempting to pull it in more deeply.

  Instead, Shadow broke away from her and rose to his elbows. Gazing down at her, he paused to drink in every feature of her passion-flushed face.

  Rosalind cried out in protest. She did not want even one moment to pass when his body was not touching hers. Desperately, she reached up to grasp him around the neck. Then, with a strength born of her passion, she pulled him back down on top of her. Clinging to him, she feverishly covered his face and mouth with kisses.

  Shadow suppressed a smile as Rosalind, her breath coming in short, excited gasps, her hips moving in circles beneath him, whispered only one word – the word he had been waiting to hear…“Please.”

  There was absolutely no doubt in his mind. Rosalind was ready to be made a woman…his woman.

  Rosalind wondered how long Shadow would continue to torture her. Was he too blind, she wondered, to see how urgently she wanted to feel him inside her? Did he intend to prolong her suffering until she was forced to actually voice her desires? She felt certain that the “ache” of which her brother and Nathaniel so often had spoken, paled in comparison to what she now was feeling.

  Clearly reading Rosalind’s thoughts, Shadow at last positioned himself between her legs, his knees urging them farther apart as slowly, carefully, he entered her. Although every fiber of his being was urging him to swiftly take from her what he so urgently craved, his concern for Rosalind forced him to hold back. When he reached the barrier of her maidenhead, he paused.

  Rosalind was certain that Shadow’s unbearably slow penetration would drive her mad. She wanted him to sink his full length into her – to quickly rid her of her virginity. She could not help but consider the irony of her desires. For years, she had mourned the loss of her precious maidenhead, yet now that she knew she still possessed it, her only desire was to be rid of it in all possible haste.

  Shadow sensed Rosalind’s impatience, but still he held back. He could feel her internal muscles clenching and unclenching, urging him to break through the thin wall that separated girlhood and womanhood. Still, he fought against it. Rosalind was offering him a gift – one she could give only once – and he did not want her to ever regret choosing him for that honor.

  Rosalind bit back a cry of frustration. The time had come, she decided, to be bold – to no longer wait for what she wanted. With fierce determination, she thrust her hips up at Shadow with such force, he plunged into the very depths of her, brutally tearing her maidenhead asunder, his pelvis smacking against her.

  Rosalind’s eyes grew wide and her mouth flew open in a cry of pain, which Shadow swiftly silenced with a scorching kiss. She pressed her palms against his chest and made a frantic attempt to push him away, to remove the pain. Not wishing to cause her any additional discomfort, Shadow held his body rigid and unmoving, allowing her time to adjust to the feel of him inside her.

  At first, Rosalind felt helplessly impaled. She held her breath as the searing pain tore at her insides, and silently cursed herself for having so hastily brought such discomfort upon herself. The feeling was not at all what she had imagined it would be. She was certain she had been irreparably torn apart. What in God’s name, she wondered, had she done? Was this her punishment for committing a sin and compromising her morals? As tears of shame and pain spilled from her eyes, she willed the bed to open up and swallow her. Never would she be able to face Shadow again. Never.

  Undaunted, Shadow continued to kiss her, his tongue rubbing tantalizingly against hers, his breath hot against her lips. He remained deeply imbedded in her, but still he did not move his body, for which Rosalind was grateful. Slowly, Shadow’s hand slid down to her right breast, his fingers gently rubbing it as his tongue stroked the inside of her mouth.

  Gradually, and much to Rosalind’s surprise, her desire began to return. She could not comprehend the tiny chills that began to run along the length of her spine, nor the throbbing sensation she felt between her legs when Shadows fingers rubbed her breast. Cautiously, she moved her hips, fully expecting to experience another stab of pain, but was both relieved and pleased to discover that most of her initial discom
fort had subsided. She moved again, this time with less trepidation, and found herself actually deriving some pleasure from the feeling.

  Although Rosalind’s movement beneath him was slight, Shadow was encouraged by it. He tore his mouth from hers and searched her face expectantly. “Now?” he whispered.

  Rosalind’s nod was barely perceptible. She reached up with trembling fingers to brush his long, thick hair back over his shoulders, her blue eyes, glazed with a combination of fear and desire, caressing his face. He began to move then, his strokes long and slow. Rosalind held her breath as her body began to respond on its own, as if she no longer possessed control of its actions. Her hips rose to meet each of his thrusts, the pain of only minutes ago now but a distant memory. She clung to Shadow, her breasts rubbing against his chest, her legs moving up to clasp his hips. She closed her eyes, concentrating only of the feel of him inside her, swelling, throbbing, filling her, bridging them together as one. Never did she want it to end.

  All too soon, Shadow’s slow, sensual movements began to frustrate her. She craved more, much more. In a far corner of her mind she recalled Abigail’s words about women who enjoyed forceful men in bed, and she could not help but wonder if she might be one of those women.

  “Please,” Rosalind swallowed her pride to breathlessly whisper to Shadow, “do not hold back.”

  Shadow eagerly complied, increasing the speed and force of his thrusts. Rosalind cried out in undisguised pleasure as again and again he sank into the very depths of her. Greedily she met each thrust, arching her back high off the bed in an effort to more easily accommodate the full length of him.

  Rosalind did not understand the intense feelings that were building inside her. Everything that was occurring was so new, so unknown to her, her emotions leapt from exhilaration to sheer terror. She feared she might very well explode if the increasing sense of pressure within her was not soon relieved.

  Without warning, Rosalind’s body suddenly tensed and wave after wave of the most incredible sensations she had ever felt – ever could possibly have imagined – rippled through her. Her long, slender legs jerked, squeezing Shadow between them. Gasping for breath, her eyes glassy and unseeing, as her body spasmed, Rosalind raked her fingernails down the length of Shadow’s back. She dug her heels into the hollows of his buttocks and pulled him hard against her, determined to hold him there for as long as possible, not allowing him to withdraw from her again.

  Almost immediately, Shadow’s body stiffened and he groaned, a low, guttural moan, as he spilled his seed into her. Rosalind felt her inner walls still spasming, as if hungrily attempting to squeeze every last drop from him.

  Exhausted from the tension of having held back his release for so long, Shadow collapsed on top of Rosalind, his heart pounding wildly against her breast. The two of them lay there for several minutes, neither one speaking or moving, their breathing labored, until Shadow rolled onto his back, drawing Rosalind with him. She snuggled against him, her head resting on his chest.

  “I am sorry if I hurt you, little one,” he murmured, smoothing her damp hair from her face. “Believe me, it will be much better, much easier for you, after this.”

  Rosalind shook her head. “I have no one to blame for my pain but myself. You were wonderful, Shadow…it was wonderful.” Her hand traveled down the flat, solid plane of his stomach as she added in a somewhat awed whisper. “We are truly one now, in every sense of the word…and no one ever can take that away from us.”

  * * * * *

  Rosalind awoke early the next morn and for a moment, thought everything that had occurred the night before had been a dream. She turned her head and saw Shadow lying beside her, his arm flung across her waist, his thick ebony hair spread out across the pillow, his long lashes resting on his high cheekbones as he slept. He had not covered himself with the quilt, and Rosalind’s eyes swept over his naked body.

  “Dear Lord!” she whispered, pulling up the quilt to cover her naked breasts. “I did not dream it! It really did happen!” She clamped her eyes shut in attempt to blot out the memory of the intimacy she and Shadow had shared only a few hours before. How, she wondered, could she have behaved so wantonly with a man to whom she was not even wed? And how could she possibly bear to face him in the daylight after the shameless way she had encouraged him to bed her? I am no better than one of Nathaniel’s trollops!

  Shadow stirred, causing Rosalind to freeze in panic. She prayed he would not awaken – not yet. She was not prepared to face him…and perhaps never would be.

  Shadow’s eyelids flickered open and his sleepy gaze immediately settled on her. “Good morning, my love,” he whispered, rolling over onto his side so he could deliver a kiss to her bare shoulder. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Quite.” She tugged at the quilt until it was up to her chin. She wanted to prevent him from kissing her shoulder, or anything else, again.

  Shadow rose up onto one elbow and gazed down at her. “Rosalind, what is wrong? Have you pain this morning?”

  “I am fine,” she said. She turned her head away from him.

  Shadow’s hand reached over to grasp her chin and force her to look at him. “Tell me what troubles you,” he demanded.

  Rosalind closed her eyes so she would not have to look at him as she choked out, “I-I am ashamed of what occurred…of what we did together…in this bed last night. Please, grant me the favor of going downstairs posthaste, for I do not wish to face you now…perhaps not ever.”

  When Shadow neither moved nor responded, she hesitantly opened her eyes. The anger she witnessed in his expression startled her.

  He leaned close to her face, his hand still gripping her. “What we did last night was an act of love, not lust,” he said evenly. “And our love is nothing of which we should be ashamed.” His eyes narrowed. “Or is it?”

  “Of course not!” Rosalind responded. “I love you, Shadow, more than I ever believed was possible!” With trembling fingers, she gently touched the strong hand that held her chin. “But what we did last night was a sin…a sin that cannot be undone.”

  “It is only a sin if you make it so,” he said. “Please, do not attempt to turn something that was so right into something ugly. I know that deep in your heart you do not regret anything that occurred between us.”

  Rosalind stared at him with wide, uncertain eyes. He was right. She could not deny that what they had shared had been wonderful, nor could she deny that she had wanted Shadow as much as he had wanted her. The act had been tender and loving, and he had been patient, unlike her own brother, who had admitted he had leapt right onto poor Faith on their wedding night without allowing her any time to prepare for him to enter her. Rosalind winced at the thought. She had been more than prepared when Shadow tore her maidenhead, yet it still had been painful. Poor Faith, she thought. No wonder she had not been eager to be touched again the morning after the wedding.

  Rosalind spared Shadow a shaky smile. “You speak the truth,” she said. “Our love is so strong, how can anything we share…anything we both want, be wrong? Truth be told, what occurred between us last night was something I have longed for since our very first kiss.”

  Shadow’s serious expression transformed into a slight smile, his eyes suddenly teasing. “I suspected as much, Mistress Chandler, even before our first kiss…the day that Nathaniel first introduced us and you so boldly eyed my breeches!”

  Rosalind’s mouth fell open in feigned outrage. Chuckling, Shadow leaned to kiss her, but just as their lips were about to meet, Rosalind abruptly pulled away. “Ben!” she gasped. “He will be arriving home at any moment! He cannot find us up here together… like this!” She sat up, unintentionally allowing the quilt to fall to her waist. Shadow’s dark gaze instantly dropped to appreciatively eye her breasts.

  “If you insist upon tempting me with your naked charms,” he said huskily, his index finger moving up to trace a circle around her nipple, “I fear your brother shall be in for a shock when he arrives home.”

/>   Shadow’s taunting fingertip caused Rosalind to suck in her breath as her nipple hardened beneath his touch. Scowling at him, she threw back the quilt and climbed out of bed. Shadow lay back, his hands clasped behind his head, and watched her in amusement as she hastily donned her garments. She presented her back to him, allowing him an enticing view of her shapely backside. The mere sight of her smooth, flawless skin in the golden light of the early morn, caused his loins to ache with desire. If it were possible, he thought, he would be content to spend the entire day locked in this chamber with her – no food, no drink – only their lovemaking to sate him.

  After Rosalind had slipped into a shapeless blue dress, tied a white apron around her waist and tucked her hair beneath a white cap, she turned to face Shadow. “There! Now I look presentable!”

  “Not in my opinion.” He shook his head. “I much prefer you wearing nothing at all.”

  Unable to contain her smile, Rosalind moved toward the bed, fully intending to grab one of the pillows and playfully hit him with it. But as she leaned to reach for the pillow, she gasped, her eyes widening in horror.

  Shadow sat up. “What is it?”

  “There is blood on the bed!” she answered, pointing at the stain. “How on earth will I explain this to my brother? There is no time to wash the bedding and dry it ere his return!”

  Sighing with obvious relief, Shadow lay back against the pillow and smiled at her. “Now do you believe I did not have my way with you in the blizzard six years ago?”

  Rosalind frowned at him. ‘Why are you smiling? This is serious, Shadow! How do you propose I explain this to Ben?”

  Shadow folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “My sweet Rosalind,” he said, “are you not like other women?”

  She only stared at him.

  “Do you not bleed with each cycle of the moon?”

  Rosalind’s cheeks colored at his bold question. “Of course I do.” Her puzzled expression lingered only a moment before a look of sudden realization crossed her face. “Why did I not think of that? That is how I shall explain the blood!”