Embracing Ashberry

by Serenity Everton

  “What happened?” Ellie asked, truly wondering. “I thought that you, that ... “

  Her voice died away as Ashberry’s chest rumbled. “I am. I will. We’re not even half way there, darling.”

  She looked at him then. “Not even?” Her blush was pink in the light as he lifted her and stood, carrying her to the bed. He set her gently on it, but then turned her.

  “On your stomach, Ella love,” he whispered, lifting one knee to the bed beside her. When she settled comfortably, her head resting on her arms and facing away from him, he pulled the nightgown up at the back, uncovering her thighs, then her rump. It gleamed in the candlelight, shaped in gently sloping spheres and hopelessly irresistible. Ellie nearly fainted when his palms rested against it and stroked downward over the curve to her upper thighs.

  Wildly, she uttered a mental sentence of gratitude to her mate, who had the foresight to lay her down; Ellie was certain that she couldn’t have supported herself.

  Ashberry took his time in learning the roundness, stroking first up and down, then running a nail down the dark crevice between her lower cheeks until she shivered. “I have to know all of you, here, too,” he murmured, his fingers pinching her gently, his mouth loving the shapely curves.

  Without more words, he bunched the sheer gold silk in one hand and lifted it still higher while his other fingers meandered up her spine. When she gasped quietly, he unfastened his robe and let it fall to the floor before quickly moving behind her, kneeling with a knee on each side of her hips. In this position, she was less capable of intense pleasure without the help of his hands, he knew, but he would find it difficult to penetrate her too deeply either. More than anything, even more than their pleasure, he was unwavering in his commitment not to hurt her. Reaching beneath her, he eased the silk over her stomach. She lifted herself to help, sighing deeply when his thumbs passed over her nipples.

  When the gown had been pulled from her, when she was finally nude beneath him, he slid his hands around her and cupped her breasts in his hands, trapping her nipples between two fingers on each hand. Leaning down, Ashberry laid a kiss on the back of her neck.

  Beneath him, Ellie couldn’t help herself. She could feel his heat behind her, needed to know desperately how his skin would feel against her. Her body lifted up, pressing her back to his chest. The movement had unexpected consequences, causing Ellie to realize almost immediately that his skin against her fired her insides as much as one of their passionate kisses. The surprise was against her bottom, hot and heavy and probing. Ashberry’s voice was hot and heavy too, the words hoarse with shock. “Ellie, dear lord, why did you do that?”

  He lowered her to the bed, his hands brooking no resistance from her. Still, her bottom squirmed, and Ashberry’s control was rapidly slipping. He rubbed himself helplessly against the curve of it, not assuaging the ache but focusing it, feeding it.

  “I want to feel you,” she objected, pushing her bottom up to him.

  He took her firmly by the hips, holding her down as he trailed kisses from her neck to her bottom. The need in him was too uncontrolled, too wild. “Tomorrow,” he muttered, flattening one palm against her rear.

  With the other, he reached around her, sliding his hands into her curls, into her flesh. He held her there beneath him, stroking and rubbing, while she rocked, until she begged, “Stephen, please, do something.”

  What he did was probe her, slide into her just slightly, one hand still locked against her throbbing pubis. She was flaming hot, tighter than he thought he could bear but he didn’t back away. He waited until her astonished gasp faded into a moan, courtesy of his fingers rubbing against her, then eased an inch deeper. He couldn’t prevent himself from sliding out and pushing back in, just once, as his free hand rode up her side and beneath her. When her body pushed against his hands, forcing her nipple through his fingers and her clitoris against his thumb, he thrust again, then again, each time riding her frame a bit harder against his fingers, pushing a bit more deeply inside her.

  At least until her cry, muffled by the pillows, indicated that she had once again entered the whirlpool and her body fractured beneath him. He thrust deeply as his own currents carried him away, until his eyes glassed over and his body drained.

  Ellie was still dazed when Ashberry lifted himself from her and eased her legs beneath the blankets. He took his time dousing the candles in the room, except for the one by the bed, where Ellie finally set up and began to watch him, drawing only the sheet over her. When he came back, he started to don the robe, but then dropped it as their eyes met, climbing onto the bed just as he was.

  Quite seriously, he asked her, “How are you, Ellie?”

  Her smile was sleepy, and she yawned even before she managed to answer. “I didn’t know humans were capable of that,” she whispered, blinking.

  He was amused. “Go to sleep, darling,” he whispered, helping her climb down under the sheet. “I’ll be here with you.”

  Ellie’s answer, simple as it was, delighted him. “I know,” she murmured. “You won’t leave me.”

  “Never,” he promised, watching as she settled into the pillow, her head cradled by the soft bolsters.

  Only after he was sure she slept, only after the quiet murmurs of her dream left her curled against him did he pull back the sheet.

  He held the candle in hand, taking in his first sight of her scarred stomach and ribcage. Anger, so violent and black that he tasted its waters as it flooded him, overtook the dam he had built up over the last weeks against its simmering threat. He remained there, contemplating first her and then himself until the candle began to sputter in the black room. Eventually, though, he drew the blankets up over her form, sliding down beside her in the bed and pulling her against him, kissing her forehead and closing his eyes. It was only the tears that leaked through his eyelids and onto his cheeks that gave away his grief, but in his arms Ellie slept safe and dreamless, until at last Ashberry joined her in the void.

  * * * *

  “I would like to know,” Ashberry said, clearly amused, “Why you locked the doors to our suite.” Griffin, he reflected, had been gleeful when Ashberry had finally answered his rapping, still shrugging on his robe and clearly half-aroused. “Did you think to slow me down if I tried to run away from you?”

  Ellie flushed, still flustered by the new awareness between them, by Ashberry’s passionate familiarity during the morning. “I, I’m not sure. It’s just that I guess I was, was a little nervous, I guess.”

  Ashberry couldn’t help himself. He kissed her forehead and rocked her closer against him, his hands rubbing her side and spine. The marquess delighted in having her on his lap, despite the demure, heavy gown she wore for warmth. Ellie had woken early, and her stirring as she tried to leave the bed had roused Ashberry. Instead of letting her crawl out of bed, he had cupped his hands behind her thighs and pressed her beneath him until her hands had wrapped around his head and her mouth pressed fervently in return. Griffin’s timing, Ashberry reflected, had been abominably bad.

  “Are you sore?” he had questioned as the noise persisted, not surprised when she grimaced.

  “I’ll ask for a bath, my dear,” he told her, an amused twist to his lips. His finger had rubbed her lip while he added, “I can enjoy you later.”

  He did enjoy her later, though the intimacy between them had been unfamiliar and uncertain for Ellie. Ashberry smiled as he remembered her blushes when he had come to the dressing room, dismissing the housekeeper with a nod of his head. Ellie had already risen from the bath, but it was Ashberry who finished drying her in front of the large dressing room mirror, Ashberry who had insisted she arrange her curls in a manner easy to release later. He had watched her dress, stopping her from donning the corset, taking it from her physically when she frowned.

  “You’ll be more comfortable,” he insisted. When Ellie didn’t appear convinced, he had drawn her close to him, his palms flat against her sides. “I’ll be able to touch you more easily,” he m
urmured, kissing her until she softened against him, until her hands clutched his shoulders. She had said nothing else when he tucked the stiff whalebone in her bag, as he helped her fasten the high-necked navy blue gown from the base of her neck to her waist. “This one isn’t nearly as accessible,” he had teased, tucking two fingers inside the buttons and touching the inside of one breast through her chemise.

  Ellie laid her head on his shoulder, just resting against him. It was true, she acknowledged, that she had blushed constantly since she woke. Ashberry had hardly taken his eyes from her, hardly been farther away from her than he could reach with his hands. And he had reached. Often. In fact, since he had lifted her into the carriage over an hour ago, he had done nothing but cuddle her close to him, stroking her hair, rubbing her cheek. She had no objections, though, and on the thought, she slid a hand inside his coat, pressing it against his shirt.

  The warmth there reminded her. “Why,” she asked, “did you tell me I could touch you today? Why not last night?”

  The question made him chuckle. She looked up, her face serious and he sobered, understanding quickly that she truly didn’t understand. “Ellie, I was trying desperately to control my basest urges so that I wouldn’t overwhelm you, so that you would feel the same pleasure I knew I would. Your, your luscious behavior nearly ruined all my intentions and it would have made the thing not nearly as memorable for you.” His hand stroked down to her hip while he loosened her hair, stroking it while it flowed over her shoulders and down her back. “Tonight,” he promised, “You can touch me before I’m nearly out of my head.”

  Ellie nodded against him, sighing again. “It’s so much warmer like this,” she murmured. “Warmer than just sharing the blankets, I mean.”

  “Mmmmm ...” he agreed. “Did you see the messenger arrive after breakfast?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “You didn’t say anything so I assumed you didn’t want to discuss it just then.” She bit her lip. “Truth be told, I didn’t want to ruin a beautiful morning.”

  “It won’t,” he assured her. “The magistrate went to Ashberry House yesterday afternoon after he left us on the road but declined to search the house, though Winters invited him in. He simply wished to question the servants, none of whom have managed to see your mother since the morning before we left.”

  Ellie inhaled slowly and deeply. “We must reward them nicely, Ashberry.”

  He laughed deeply, kissing the top of her head. “I will, Ellie dear, you have my word. Edward sent word, as well, that the magistrate had searched his house from top to bottom, including the closets and cellars. Charlotte was quite honest with him—Lady Whitney had been there two nights ago but had left in a hired cab the next day. My sister told him she presumed the woman would go home to her husband. Edward was quite honest, too. He told the man that his mother should not have to risk her life to satisfy Lord Whitney’s rages and that Edward would quite understand if she ran away, especially as she would soon lose the protecting presence of her children. He also reminded the magistrate that your mother had made some dear friends in Austria and Germany, particularly in Hanover. I wish I had seen it.”

  “Richard?” Ellie asked breathlessly.

  “He is under John and Fields’ eyes and with his tutor, though at your father’s. He does not know where she is now but it would not matter if he did—he told Fields that no woman should be reduced to a mere possession, especially his mother.”

  Ellie smiled into her husband’s chest. “That’s my Richard,” she murmured. “Straight from Edward’s mouth to his brain, God bless the boy.” His chest rumbled with laughter at her words. “I’m afraid we all have a touch of Mama in us, Ashberry.”

  He rocked her against him, stretching her words. After a few minutes, he spoke with measured, sober words. “You are not a piece of property to me, Ellie Trinity, as a horse is,” he reassured her. “However,” he warned, his hands tightening, “You are mine and only mine, for as long as God gives us.”

  “Yes, my lord,” she murmured demurely, then lifted her chin and met his eyes evenly. “Because I chose to be.”

  He nodded, the light of male satisfaction on his face. “Yes, you did.” His mouth met hers firmly, a kiss that soon deepened until he nearly laid her back on the seat as he savored her flavor, her astonishing willingness. He found it difficult to set her from him, sliding away across the seat while his eyes remained fixed on her. “Ellie, dear, I think it’s time you found your needlework or a book or, or something to occupy your time.”

  The words surprised her, shocked him. “I’ve already found you, Stephen.”

  He closed his eyes, cursing the clock. It was not yet noon and they had at least six more hours before the next possible bed. Ashberry swallowed hard, rapping on the coachman’s seat. “Ellie, you are going to drive me to madness. We cannot in the carriage, unless you wish to share the absolutely gorgeous noises you made last night with our three attendants, not to mention risking damage from the cold to your delectable body.”

  She took a deep breath. “You’re going to ride?”

  “Yes,” Ashberry answered roughly, “Until lunchtime at least.” He put a hand on the latch as the carriage rolled to a halt. “Not because I don’t want to be with you, Ellie. Because I want you too damn much.”

  “All right,” she accepted after a moment. “I’ll read, until lunchtime.” She grimaced. “I don’t think I could ride today, you know, but I don’t suppose you have a sidesaddle for those mares?”

  “You have a riding clothes? And boots?”

  “Yes,” she said, satisfied. “It is the type of thing that one sometimes finds useful when traveling.”

  Ashberry nodded, wondering if she had enjoyed the constant travel, moving from place to place. “I will do my best to find a sidesaddle then, my lady, for tomorrow.”

  Ellie nodded, watching him hop from the coach, unassuming and unflappable with the trusted men he kept at his side. She paused, wondering, for it occurred to her that the only times she had seen him disturbed were around her, because of her. The young woman wondered about it, but had no answers for herself and she turned to her needlework to occupy her thoughts.

  Lunch was quiet, with Ashberry eating quickly and then speaking with a number of the locals. He was obviously known in the village and she watched, fascinated, as even the mayor came to greet him. The marquess spoke easily, listened carefully to all he was told, until finally Ellie rose from her seat. Alexander was beside her immediately.

  “Yes, my lady?” he asked courteously.

  Her question was quiet. “Mr. Alexander, why does the marquess know everyone here?”

  The butler showed no signs of surprise, a trait, she mused, that was required for the job. “The lordship’s agents travel through here regularly, my lady. He has found it useful to make and keep the friendship of the locals along our route. We patronize the tavern, the stables.”

  “That’s all?” she asked suspiciously.

  The butler admitted, “Well, my lady, Ashberry Stable supplies nearly all the stops between London and Ashberry Park with coach horses. The marquess’ business is well known and liked here.”

  Ashberry said farewell to the man, then returned to Ellie’s side. He kissed her glove, taking her arm and guiding her through the room. “My dearest lady,” he murmured, “Do you feel refreshed?”

  “Not particularly,” Ellie smiled. “I don’t suppose we could walk around for a bit?” Her eyes pleaded a bit and Ashberry couldn’t resist. Without speaking, he led her up the street, past several small shops. She stopped before one that seemed especially well kept, stepping inside the low doorway. Inside was a plethora of small fineries and Ellie moved from treasure to treasure, exclaiming.

  The shopkeeper would have been delighted to show her trinkets and ribbon until the sunset, but Ashberry couldn’t wait quite that long. “My lady,” he murmured just once, his eyes reminding her of their journey.

  She acquiesced immediately, choosing several yards of
ribbon trim and several threads that would complement her needlework. She started to use her own coin but Ashberry shook his head, paying the man himself. When they returned to the coach, he helped her inside, clearly intending to take to the horse again. Ellie smiled, understanding the tightness around his mouth now when he looked at her, when his hands slid a bit too slowly over her legs as she settled into the seat. She did not object, but instead asked, “You’ll come sit with me later?”

  “Later,” Ashberry promised. And later he did come. They stopped two hours further along the road to rest the horses and he came inside the carriage, amused to find her asleep, head down against the seat. She slept even as the horses pulled forward, until Ashberry wondered at how soundly she rested when she wasn’t disturbed by dreams. He watched her, just watched her, until her eyes began to flutter.

  She yawned, covering her mouth and sitting on the bench, blinking at him. “Hello,” he smiled.

  Her cheeks flushed. “Hello,” she whispered back.

  Immediately, he could see the direction of her thoughts. It was late afternoon and would be dark soon. She must know that they would not go much further. “A half hour, perhaps,” he told her. “You slept a long time.” A wicked smile crossed his face. “It’s likely you didn’t get as much sleep last night as you might have otherwise.”

  “I suppose it was early when we left,” she murmured, deliberately ignoring his provocative remark though she couldn’t prevent the flush that stained her cheeks. His face severe, Ashberry beckoned a hand to her and she went instantly, for beside him was exactly where she wished to be. He fitted her against his side, breathing his own sigh of relief as his arm tightened around her so that his hand was able to flatten against her stomach. Again, almost impatiently, he tumbled her hair from its knot, his fingers exploring the locks, tracing them. After some minutes had passed, his hand gently smoothed up over her stomach, brushing her breasts lightly until she squirmed just a bit. His second hand left her hair to fondle her as well through the fabric and Ellie gasped softly.