‘May I?’
Before she had realised his intention he had closed the gap between them and was relieving her nerveless hand of the hairbrush she had just picked up. It felt incredibly intimate as he softly ran the brush through her hair, taking his time, watching her image in the mirror as he did it.
‘You have lovely hair, Isabelle. I enjoy running my fingers through it when we are making love.’
His words sent a little shiver through her, and try as she might she could not dispel the images that leapt to mind as she remembered all that had passed between them.
She found herself holding her breath, waiting to see if he would take things further. And when he said nothing - merely continued to hold her gaze like that, she heard herself saying in a husky voice she barely recognised.
‘Are you in need of some comfort, Guy?’
She could scarce believe she had uttered the words.
‘Are you?’ he returned softly.
‘No, of course not. That is …’
The look in his eye unnerved her as he gently swept the hair on her shoulder to one side and lowered his mouth to her neck.
‘I think I should probably warn you, he murmured, grazing his lightly lips over her skin, ‘that any time you offer me comfort, I will find it very difficult to refuse.’
She trembled, her head dipping to one side to allow him fuller access. And when he gently nipped her, she gasped, her body’s needs firing into life.
He pulled her up from her chair and she turned to him willingly, but when he would have kissed her fully on the lips she averted her face so that his kiss instead landed on the side of her cheek.
‘Why will you not kiss me properly, Isabelle?’ he whispered huskily, his lips moving back to try and tease hers into acquiescence.
She stiffened. She didn’t understand herself her reluctance, except that maybe that was the one thing she still felt she had some control over. She seemed to be falling so swiftly and completely under Guy’s spell that it was alarming - and it went against everything she had previously considered so important.
‘I don’t know how to.’
‘Let me show you.’
His lips settled on hers once more but though she made no move to push him away, her own mouth remained passive beneath his. Her very coolness seemed to fire his passion all the more.
‘You cannot know how much I have been thinking of you,’ he muttered, pushing her up against the dressing table as his hand found its way beneath the hem of her night dress.
She bit her lip as his fingers settled on the tiny peak that was the centre of her being. She was already moist for him and found herself thrusting onto his palm eagerly, her arms encircling his neck as he circled the nub again and again.
‘Ah Guy,’ she gasped, her head rolling back.
‘What is it you want, Isabelle? For I know what it is I want.’
‘I want you to pleasure me,’ she breathed.
She gasped as he suddenly whipped the top of her gown over her head, exposing her body to his feasting eyes for a moment before he sank his head to roughly nip first one breast, then the other. She moaned, pushing them into his mouth all the more, reveling in the feel of his lips, his tongue, his teeth all devouring her as if he could not stop himself.
Heground against her and she felt him fumbling with the waistband of his breeches - felt the familiar panic at the thought of what might happen next.
‘No.’
‘Yes,’ he muttered, suddenly swooping her up into his arms and carrying her over to the bed. ‘I need to take you – need to be inside you.’
He lay her on the bed and was immediately atop of her, pinning her down with his body as his fingers reached swiftly down to continue their work. Her lips swelled and moistened as he circled them relentlessly, wringing more and more exquisite sensations from her. She moaned, barely aware of him removing his shirt until she felt his skin, hot and exciting on top of hers. And then it was as if a dam had burst. Everywhere hands and legs as he took his taste of her flat stomach, her breasts, the delicate line of her neck. And she too found herself touching back, hesitantly at first and then with increasing wonder as she explored his broad back, the tops of his legs, his taut, muscular buttocks.
He was everywhere, his mouth possessing every nook and cranny of her as it explored her body possessively. But when she felt him hard and hot pressing at her entrance, she froze again.
‘No, Guy.’
‘I need to,’ he breathed. ‘Don’t fight me, Isabelle.’
He was pushing against her, she felt the all too familiar sensation as her muscles seized and refused him entry. She braced herself for the pain. For his shaft was not like Richard’s. It was thick and solid and would tear her apart when he forced himself into her.
But there was no pain.
‘Relax,’ he soothed gently, easing the pressure and wiping a wisp of hair from her brow. ‘Know that I won’t force you. We have as much time as we need to overcome this little hurdle.’
‘But it is not a little hurdle,’ she whispered, mortified. She tried to reach for him. ’Let me finish you.’
In answer he stilled her hand and shook his head. His eyes were filled with passion but there was a tenderness there that took her breath away. He was lying on top of her, his cock pressed firmly at her entrance, nudging gently. He raised himself onto his elbows, raining light kisses on her mouth, her jaw line, her neck as he gently swirled the tip of it in her juicy wetness.
She moaned. It felt wondrous, better even than his fingers had done.
‘Relax your body, Isabelle. Relax your muscles.’
His voice was a deep, seductive whisper, as very gently he pressed his shaft against her entrance and then withdrew it. Then he repeated the action over and over again, until her heightening need for him began to outstrip all other emotions. She could feel her muscles relaxing even as her tension was building.
‘Aah, Guy,’ she gasped.
He rocked on top of her, the ridge of his shaft sending a thousand volts burning through her each time he nudged evocatively at her entrance. ‘What do you want, Isabelle?’ he whispered.
He bent his head to nip her breast. ‘This?’
And as he nipped it again, ‘This?’
She moaned, thrusting herself up to meet him. ‘Try,’ she muttered. ‘See if you can …’
The words were like nectar to Guy’s ears as he attempted to enter her. He almost groaned his frustration out loud when still he could not. He was in danger of erupting at any moment and had to resist the temptation to take his member and pump the seed from it with his own hand.
Restraining himself, he continued to rock gently on top of her, rolling his shaft in her slick wetness so that it slid back and forth between her lips. Her breathing quickened as she began to meet him. He could feel her softening, opening up to him again as he probed gently at her entrance.
The effort to control himself caused a bead of sweat to form on his brow. He must not ruin this.
Gradually he eased himself into her - sliding a little deeper as she started to accommodate him. But his need was getting the better of him, and when he came to another barrier, he could not prevent himself from jerking forward with a deep grunt.
‘Oh.’
She cried out and he stilled, vexed with himself for his impatience. But he was glorying in the feel of being buried deep within her at last, and could not contain his actions for long.
Gradually at first, and then with more vigour as he realised she was starting to move with him, he began to thrust.
And it was his undoing. For once he had started he found he could not stop. Again and again he pounded into her, his strokes deepening as at last his passion took over. Lust was consuming him, making him oblivious to everything except the feel of her body beneath him, her soft gasps as he rode her.
And she was keeping up with him, her mutterings in his ear becoming more feverish.
‘Oh, yes, Guy. Yes. Do not stop.’
/> His mind dimmed. He felt his seed rising. He wanted to hear her cries of pleasure, watch her as she came, but he was losing it.
He groaned as the first wave of orgasm submerged him, then the next. He was pumping into her as if his life depended on it, and as he thrust deeper he thrilled at Isabelle’s sudden sweet cry of ecstasy as her body arched up to meet his in shocked abandonment.
‘Guy,’ she cried, gripping him hard. ‘Oh, Guy …’
And he continued to pound into her until the very last of his seed had left him.
It was several minutes before he came down from the clouds - before he could make any sound at all. He was lying collapsed on top of her, his head buried deep in her hair, as he breathed her in sensuously. He had never felt so emotionally spent, so sated. And whilst he could not pretend that he understood why, he was simply inclined to enjoy the feeling while it lasted and ask questions of himself later.
‘Is all well with you, Isabelle?’ he murmured, raising himself onto his elbows and looking tenderly down at her.
Isabelle was having difficulty coming to terms with the enormity of what had just happened and she stared up at him in bewilderment. For while a part of her was elated at discovering she was as normal as any other woman, that elation was clouded by the realisation that she might possibly be developing feelings for her husband that were more than simply sexual. For how could anyone so lose them self in another who meant nothing to them? She struggled to sit up, feeling a panicked need to be alone, but it was difficult with Guy’s body still weighing her down like this. And dear God, the weight of him on her was stirring up those sensations again.
‘I am very well thank you, but I need the bathroom, Guy, if you wouldn’t mind?’
‘Of course.’ He was looking at her strangely and she found herself looking away from the intensity of that gaze.
But as she threw back the bedclothes, exiting the bed as quickly as she could, she gasped in shock at the red patch on the sheet.
‘Oh,what is that?’
Guy too was looking at the red stain, his expression incredulous as he turned slowly to look at her. ‘You were a virgin?’
She was mortified. But of course she was a virgin. And she had always expected to remain so. Richard had never penetrated her. He’d blamed that on her anatomy, had told her she was deformed in that region which was why they could not consummate their marriage. And she had believed him.
‘I’m sorry. I did not expect that you would … that we would-’
His face broke into a broad grin and it was the first time she had ever seen him look so pleased with himself.
‘Do not apologise, Isabelle. I am delighted to have something of you that my predecessor did not. I’m sorry however that I was not aware. I would have been more careful not to hurt you.’
She feared that he had rather a lot of her that Richard had not; but she wasn’t ready to analyse that quite yet.
She shook her head, a look of wonder on her face. ‘It wasn’t too painful at all. I can scarce believe that … that I am normal. I was so convinced that I was deformed.’
Before she realised his intention, Guy had risen from the bed and closed the gap between them, taking her into his arms. ‘I cannot listen to such nonsense. Your body is perfect - just the way God intended it to be. You have very good reason to be proud of it and enjoy it - and I for one will be more than happy to help you with the latter.’ He grinned. ‘Every night if you wish.’
Her body softened in his hold as he held her to him, but her mind was still tormented. Her feelings for her husband had suddenly become so complicated, so all-consuming. Could this be … love? Or was it as he had said, simply sex? Could sex alone provoke such intense feelings and need of a person? For the truth was she could not envisage her life without Guy now. She realised that for the first time she was experiencing true contentment, and the mere thought of losing him was enough to induce a stab of fear in her heart.
He patted her bottom playfully with his large hands, unaware of the complex emotions racing through her head. ‘Go see to your needs if that is your wish,’ he rumbled in her ear. ‘I will keep the bed warm for you, my love.’
His love? The endearment brought a glow of warmth to her heart even though she knew it was carelessly uttered. She needed to put a stop to this nonsense now, before it became her undoing.
She drew back from him and reached for her robe. ‘That was nice,’ she remarked coolly, nodding her head, ‘I own I am enjoying discovering the pleasures of sex with you. But I am hungry and ready for my breakfast now if you do not mind?’
The expression on Guy’s face was almost comical as he stared at her. He was clearly not used to having women reject him.
‘As you wish,’ he said, clearly piqued. Then his expression eased, becoming more mischievous. ‘For we have plenty of time ahead of us to enjoy the pleasures of sex, as you so accurately put it. And now that we have the main hurdle out of the way, I’m quite sure you will learn to enjoy it more and more.’
Dear God, she hoped not. It was already so consuming that she feared she had lost a part of herself to her new husband.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Isabelle sat on her bed, her mind in turmoil. At her dressing table, Charles was playing with her belongings - lining her jewellery up neatly in a row, using her ivory brush on his hair, exploring all her trinkets with the enthusiasm only a five year old child could muster. She smiled at his antics fondly before her face returned once again to its more sombre expression.
She and Guy had found a contentment in their marriage these last few months - an easy-going acceptance of each other that had brought her more pleasure than she could possibly have imagined. But she feared all that could be about to come to an end.
It was her maid who had told her, and though she had not wanted to believe it, she knew without doubt that it was the truth. And now that she knew, she had to confront Guy with her knowledge. As she had said to Ralph, secrets were not good for a relationship.
‘Isabelle?’
As always, her heart leapt at the sound of his voice and she frowned at her weakness.
She had known since that first time they’d properly consummated their relationship that she had fallen in love with her husband, and it was not a situation that brought her comfort. Indeed, had she known it was happening she would have tried more to resist it. But it had crept up on her so gradually that when it had finally struck her, it had been too late to do anything about it at all.
She had not told him of course, for as he did not feel the same way, she feared that by doing so it would upset the balance of their relationship, leaving her more vulnerable and exposed than she already felt. And now she feared that when she told him what she had found out …
‘Ah, here you are my dear, I was wondering where you had got to.’
Guy walked into her room, the deep smile he seemed to reserve for her, etched on his face.
‘I am just taking a little rest with Charles,’ she said lightly.
‘Papa, I have found a spider. Come and see.’
Guy moved over to his son and knelt carefully down beside him. ‘So you have,’ he said. ‘See how busily it is working at making its web. It seems a shame does it not that tomorrow Molly will dust this room and the poor thing will have to start all over again? Could you build your own home as quickly do you think, Charles?’
‘I could try,’ the little boy said gravely, and Isabelle smiled, thinking how alike they both were when they were side by side like that together.
‘You would not get very far I think,’ she said.
She looked at Guy with pride as he and Charles watched the spider. His clothes as always, fitted him to perfection, outlining the broad muscular frame of that wonderful physique, and his thick dark hair hung almost rakishly over his brow. Yet was there ever less of a rake than her husband? He was so moral and reliable … so loyal.
‘I came to tell you Charles, that Cook has your favourite biscuits lined up and re
ady for your morning snack, if you wish to go and sample them? She said you can take them in the kitchen today if you wish.’
‘Oh yes,’ the little boy exclaimed excitedly, jumping down from his chair. ‘It is always such fun in the kitchen.’ He turned and ran from the room, the spider forgotten, and Guy smiled as he sat down on the edge of Isabella’s bed.
‘He is like his father, he has simple needs,’ he said wickedly, stroking the line of her neck with his finger.
‘Your needs are not always so simple,’ Isabelle smiled, thinking of some of the pleasures they had shared over the last few months.
His hand dropped as he began to trace the backs of his fingers up and down her arm. ‘You are looking very serious, my love. Is something amiss?’
He had taken to calling her that, even if it wasn’t true - and she had come to like it. But he probably would not even talk to her after today.
‘Yes Guy. There is.’ She cleared her throat. It had to be said. ‘I am sorry. I know you will not be pleased. I have no idea how it could have happened indeed-’
‘Now you have me worried,’ he said, but his eyes were twinkling. She had come to like that twinkle - had seen a lot more of it over the last few months as gradually they’d come to relax in each other’s company. Now she would probably never see it again.
‘I am with child,’ she blurted out. ‘You will hate me for it, I know. Indeed, I do not understand how it could have happened.’
She waited for the scowl that would evidence his displeasure but to her surprise it did not happen.
Instead he flashed her a breathtaking smile and said, ‘I have a pretty good idea how it happened even if you do not, but has it really taken you so long to realise it, my love? For I guessed it more than two weeks ago.’
‘You did?’
He nodded - and then did the strangest of things. He placed his hand gently on her stomach, and leaned forward to kiss her there.
She looked down at his bent head, resisting an impulse to stroke it, as she stammered. ‘But I thought - that is, you said having another child was the last thing you would ever want.’
Desperate Measures (Regency Undone) Page 12
