To Wed A Viscount

by Adrienne Basso

  A silent tear crept down her cheek and splashed onto her wrist. Faith brushed her cheek, then wrapped her arms tightly around her knees.

  It was just a letdown from the party, she insisted to herself. It meant only that she was tired and a bit sad the evening had ended. Yet the temptation to release the tears and emotions inside remained strong. Faith fought it. No matter how depressed she was feeling, she would not sit here like a pathetic neglected wife, crying and bemoaning her fate. She would act.

  Biting her lower lip, Faith looked again to the door that separated their bedchambers. She wanted to resume marital relations. Not only for the hope of the child it might bring, but to establish a connection with Griffin.

  Things had improved between them since the disastrous morning after their wedding. At this exact moment, however, it seemed like they had made so very little progress for such a long period of time. Faith knew in her heart and mind they were miles from the point where Griffin would reach for her as a loving husband was wont to do.

  She had spent more hours than she liked to admit fantasizing about that moment happening, for deep inside she knew that was what she wanted most of all. Griffin’s love.

  To her mind, a physical relationship between them was the first real step toward achieving that all-important goal. Except for that moment in the garden a few weeks ago, when the viscount had decided he wanted to host the harvest ball, Griffin had avoided all but the most proper and polite physical contact with her.

  For the third time, Faith’s eyes strayed to the closed door. Her heart contracted painfully as she contemplated all that it implied.

  Distance. Separation. Exclusion.

  Summoning her courage, Faith flung herself off the window seat and padded to the connecting door. She pressed her ear against the solid wood, but heard nothing. In fact, the entire house seemed unusually quiet. She thought briefly about knocking, but discarded the idea. What if he didn’t answer? Would she then slink away in defeat?

  Her fingertips lightly touched the door handle and slowly turned it. For a moment she panicked, worrying that it might be locked. But the door swung open quietly.

  The draperies had been left open and Griffin’s bedchamber was bathed in moonlight. It was dark, but the edges of the larger pieces of furniture as well as the bed were visible. The night was pleasantly cool, there was no fire in the hearth. The window was also partially open, for a slight breeze skipped across the room and swirled around her nightgown.

  Tense and frightened, Faith waited to be noticed. A minute passed and all remained still. Was he sleeping? She strained to hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, but the familiar sounds of the night crept through the open window.

  She took a step forward, almost wishing the floorboard would creak and garner his attention. Her heart was hammering so hard she couldn’t understand how Griffin failed to hear it, and her, approaching his bed.

  “Faith?”

  The sound of that deep, husky voice startled her and she nearly screamed. Her mouth went dry. Answering was suddenly an impossible feat, for her tongue was twisted within her mouth. Instead, Faith heaved a heavy sigh and boldly stepped out of the shadows.

  She heard the bedcovers rustle, saw Griffin slowly sit up. The linen sheet rode low on his hips, covering his body from waist to toes. His chest was bare, and there seemed every reason to assume that the rest of him was in a similar state.

  Faith swallowed hard. She stared at the top of his dark head, broad shoulders, and powerful chest. The sight of his male beauty brought an unexpected tug of longing to her body, an ache of need between her thighs.

  Faith moved closer to the window, deliberately placing herself in the shaft of moonlight provided by the open drapes.

  “Faith?”

  His voice sounded strange, as if he could not believe what his eyes were telling him. Griffin turned, and she heard the sound of a match striking tinder. He lit the candle beside his bed, and in the illumination she saw his face clearly, bathed in the golden glow of candlelight.

  The stark beauty of his handsome face made her breath quicken, her heart flutter. He was all potent male—strong, virile, unvanquishable. Yet for the briefest of instants she thought she sensed in him a loneliness that was as great as her own.

  Griffin’s astonishment at her sudden, unexpected appearance was complete. Those silvery eyes opened wide, then narrowed. “Is something wrong?”

  Faith’s blush was so strong it had to be visible, even in the glittering candlelight. Her face burned as she suddenly realized how he must be seeing her, for the sheer nightrail offered little protection. She might as well have been naked.

  Faith forced her chin up and stared back at him, despite her total embarrassment. Her breathing was labored and shallow. He continued to stare at her, his gaze sweeping from her flowing hair all the way to her bare feet.

  Dizzily, Faith blinked but was unable to break the intensity of his burning stare. For a second she thought his eyes seemed to darken with sensual secrets. Oh, how she longed for him to share them. With her.

  “Is something wrong?” he repeated.

  Faith felt her skin flush. It was obvious to a blind man what she was doing there. If she had any pride at all, she would turn and walk away. Yet the emptiness inside her was so strong, the longing so deep that it gave her the courage to push herself forward. To dare to reach out to him, knowing there was a chance, a strong chance, he would slap her away.

  “I’m lonely, Griffin,” she whispered. “And tired of sleeping alone. May I sleep with you?”

  He didn’t answer, didn’t respond in any manner. She stepped closer to the bed. And still he did not speak a word. Her stomach fluttered with nerves, yet Faith never faltered in her movements. Her body seemed to be oddly separated from her mind, functioning automatically, in response to some deep-seated need she could not completely comprehend.

  As if someone else was orchestrating her movements, Faith’s arms reached toward him, wrapping themselves around his strong shoulders. Griffin made no move to return her embrace, nor did he pull away. He just stared down at her, his silvery eyes an unfathomable pool of mystery.

  Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against the rapidly beating pulse at his throat. Then she moved upward, kissing him softly on the ear, jaw, and cheek. When she reached his mouth, his lips parted in invitation. Faith nearly cried out with delight. There was no barrier to her tongue as it slid deeply into his mouth.

  She linked her fingers behind Griffin’s neck to steady herself. She pulled him closer. He came. She gave a little wiggle of pleasure as his naked chest brushed the tips of her breasts.

  Her fingers twined through his hair, and she lovingly traced the contours of his skull, the curves of his ear. Her knees had turned to water and her heart was pounding urgently. Her nightgown hung low on her shoulders, and Faith was dimly aware of her breasts pressing almost painfully against the solid wall of his chest.

  Vivid images flashed in her mind, explicit and erotic. Giving in to the temptations of her mind, she brought those images to life. Her fingers moved with boldness over his chest, her lips soon followed. She found his nipples through the whirl of crisp hair. Flicking her tongue, she laved them into hardness, then grazed them lightly with her teeth.

  She heard his moan of pleasure in the still night air. Following carnal instincts she’d never known she possessed, Faith inserted her hand between their bodies. She wanted him to feel the same pleasure that she did, burn with the same erotic thrill that stirred her very soul.

  Her hand skidded over his flat stomach and reached lower, to the nest of curls that covered his sex. Tentatively, her fingers closed over his pulsing erection, cradling it lovingly in her palm.

  It was hot and hard and smooth. She squeezed gently, then experimentally circled the sensitive tip, massaging the moisture she discovered into the heated shaft.

  Excitement flared in Griffin’s eyes. Swiftly, he moved off the bed and stood beside her. His hands reached out bli
ndly, drawing up the hem of her nightgown and then carelessly flinging it over her head. Gloriously naked, Faith twisted and turned in his arms as the heat rose to inflame her.

  Griffin kissed her lips fiercely, then positioned her so that she was leaning back against him. Trembling, she fell back against his strength. His arms encircled her in a protective embrace. Lowering his head, Griffin brushed a tender kiss on her shoulder. Then he slid his hands across her breasts, down her stomach, between her thighs, and parted her legs.

  “Oh, my,” she gasped.

  He chuckled low in his throat, and she could feel the rumble against her back. Griffin ran his other hand along her cheek and jawline, then began stroking her neck. She tipped her head back against his shoulder with each sensual caress, closing her eyes tightly when that hand moved down her neck to tease her aching breasts.

  He tugged gently on the nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb. His lips nipped at the sensitive nape of her neck, and she gasped at the sensations, pushing herself against his chest.

  Her thighs opened wider, and his hand naturally fell lower. Rotating the tips of his fingers in gentle circles, Griffin teased the bud of her femininity until ripples of pure sensation shuddered through her.

  “Do you really want me?” Griffin whispered in her ear.

  “Oh, yes,” Faith confessed with another shudder.

  She expected him to roll her onto the bed, press her thighs wide, and sheath himself tightly in her welcoming heat. Instead he shifted, pushing her forward onto the bed on her stomach.

  Her eyelids, which had languidly closed in passion, sprang open. Confused, Faith attempted to rise. Griffin slid one hand at her waist and the other against the nape of her neck and held her down.

  “Trust me,” he whispered against her ear. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “I-I don’t know what to do,” she stammered, tensing when his fingers slid over the tips of her breasts and down toward the damp curls between her legs.

  “Lean forward and hold on tightly to the bedpost,” he commanded hoarsely.

  Instead, Faith rose to her feet and turned to stare at her husband. There was just enough candlelight for her to see him clearly. The broad shoulders, tapering waist, lean, rippling muscles, that impressive chest covered with coarse, dark hair.

  He was breathing heavily, and she noted his fists were tightly clenched by his side. He was so powerfully male, so extraordinarily exciting, so completely hers. Faith’s throat constricted. He stood tall and proud, staring back intently at her as if he couldn’t look away.

  Then he smiled. A sexy, wicked grin that made her heart ache. Sinking her fingers into his thick, dark hair, Faith rose to the tips of her toes and kissed him fully, deeply on the mouth. Then she turned around.

  Burying the last of her inhibitions and embarrassment, she did as Griffin instructed, resting her cheek against one of the tall, carved posts. She felt his hands skim lightly over her bare thighs and buttocks, and a rush of fear engulfed her.

  “Don’t tense up,” Griffin said, bending his head to touch his lips to her ear. He grabbed the tender lobe between his front teeth and bit softly.

  Faith gasped and tried to do as he requested. The crisp hair on his chest brushed against her back and she shivered. Griffin’s skillful hands began once again to wander, lovingly caressing her torso, from neck to calves. The need built and coiled inside Faith, and she noticed with a sense of triumph that Griffin’s breathing had become as ragged as hers.

  The momentary trepidation was quickly replaced by sensations of longing and desire as Griffin slowly parted her swollen sex and thrust two fingers inside her.

  “See, my love, you are ready for me,” he whispered, placing the silken head of his shaft at her opening.

  Faith moaned loudly as she felt him slide into her throbbing body. All the way. He held her hips firmly in place, and she arched back sensuously to receive him.

  He withdrew and thrust again, stroking her masterfully. Faith pressed herself back against him, impaling herself on his hardness, instinctively seeking the exquisite gratification that only he could bring.

  It was as if a dark, primal fire had ignited all of her senses. And at the center of that exquisite maelstrom was her beloved Griffin. He, and he alone, possessed the power to control this spiraling madness, to satisfy the cravings that had been tormenting her soul for weeks.

  Griffin’s teeth grazed the back of her neck as he pulled her hips hard against him. With a shuddering moan Faith submitted to this forbidden pleasure, feeling nearly mindless with the pleasure of it, the rightness of being filled so completely by him.

  Within moments she began to quake as the frenzied sensation brought her to the edge of fulfillment. Spasms broke over and engulfed her entire body as he drove himself into her forcefully.

  Faith’s last thread of control splintered and broke. The desperate need inside her had been too long ignored, had gone too long unsatisfied. It overtook her now, a spiraling vortex of pleasure hurling her toward paradise.

  It made her forget everything that had happened between them. All that mattered now was this moment, this instance of perfect intimacy. She heard Griffin shout loudly, crying out with the strength of his own climax. A single tear slid down her cheek as she felt him throb and pulse inside her, his strong body shuddering with the strength of his release.

  Faith slumped forward, her body sated, her mind almost numb to sensation. Though his body had disengaged itself from hers, Griffin still held her tightly. Faith rested her head against the cool wood of the bedpost and pressed her sweat-slick back closer to Griffin’s chest. His hand reached out and pulled the damp tendrils of hair off her neck, allowing the night breeze to cool her body.

  Faith smiled when he buried his mouth against her now bare neck. The tips of his fingers trailed lightly down the column of her throat.

  He shifted, and she felt him put a strong arm under her knees and one under her naked back as he rolled her toward him. With grace and ease, Griffin swung her around and held her tightly against his chest.

  Instinctively, she placed her arm around his neck and nuzzled close to the warmth of his solid strength. She rocked gently as he moved around to the opposite side of the massive four-poster bed.

  “What are you doing? Where are we going?”

  “To my bed,” he whispered, kissing her softly on the forehead. “I give you fair warning, madame. I don’t plan on doing much sleeping this night.”

  The dawn crept up stealthily, like a thief stealing away the magic of the night. From the rumpled sheets of his bed Griffin stared out the window and watched it rise, wishing all the while he could hold it back.

  It had taken only one night, yet he felt as if his entire world had been turned upside down. The staid, formal marriage he had finally been able to bring himself to accept had been transformed into a sensual fantasy that would delight even the most jaded of men.

  The plain, unworldly female he had been deceived into taking for a wife was a lusty, giving woman, unafraid to explore the boundaries of her sensuality. And she trusted him enough to allow him to be her tutor.

  She lay in his arms, asleep, her cheek trustingly placed against his heart. Despite his exhaustion, Griffin found sleep unattainable.

  Instead, he cuddled his wife. And for some odd reason, he could not seem to still his fingers. They trailed along the edge of Faith’s shoulders, following the line of her arm to her elbow and wrist.

  This impossible need to touch her, caress her face, rub her arms, trace languid circular patterns on her hips, was an intoxicating mystery that the viscount was not at all eager to understand.

  Griffin’s hand came to rest at the small of her back. As if subconsciously seeking his attention, Faith sighed and stirred, burying her face deeper into his shoulder.

  Griffin felt a dangerous rush of tenderness. He fought it. A second wave hit, and he grudgingly conceded it was a useless fight. Earlier this evening he had tried to resist his beguiling wife. When
she’d appeared in the ballroom, all dewy-eyed and excited, he had tried to convince himself he was not attracted to her.

  She had smiled and flirted during their waltz, pressing their bodies together in a seemingly innocent manner that caused the heat to rush instantly to various parts of his anatomy. Yet still he had managed to hold on to his control. And a shred of his sanity, by telling himself he was not attracted to her.

  When she had boldly entered his bedchamber Griffin had repeated those words in his mind. Initially he had wanted to look away. To ignore the magnificent gift she so freely offered him. To pretend to himself he was not interested in physical satisfaction or an emotional connection with the woman who had tricked him into marriage.

  But he had been filled with longing. And hunger. A strong, powerful demanding hunger that would not go away simply because he wished it. So he had allowed himself to be seduced, enjoying every moment of the lustful encounter.

  Here in the stillness of the growing dawn Griffin was now forced to admit it had been far more than just a physical joining. Somehow a bond had been forged between them tonight that had nothing to do with marriage or even sex. In a very real way they now belonged to each other.

  In all honesty, Griffin did not know what to think about Faith’s actions tonight. He wasn’t even sure if he approved of them, which was a completely irrational and hypocritical feeling. He had benefitted handsomely from her boldness, had enjoyed most thoroughly her uninhibited response. But he would not fool himself into believing he understood all the reasons that brought her to his room this night.

  Griffin could not help but wonder how their relationship would change now that she had spent the night in his bed. It was a large, comfortable bed, but he had gathered Faith against him and could not seem to relinquish his tight hold. This unexpected need startled him.

  The viscount shifted slightly. Supporting his head on his propped-up elbow, he stared down at the woman in his arms. She must have sensed his scrutiny. Her eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened.