The startling revelation brought a watery smile to her lips. For a decade she had lived like an animal, reacting, hiding, trying to avoid being noticed. She had not lived, merely survived as best she could, but that was no longer necessary. I am not a mouse or a rabbit, I am a woman, and I have the potential to think, to observe, and to choose my actions, and behaviors. Self-awareness dawned like sunrise, bringing hope, a hope she had never expected. She could be more than a frightened animal. I can be Katerina, whoever that is, Mrs. Christopher Bennett…a whole new identity. She could tell her mother-in-law she didn't want a party, she could request something that suited her, or she could compromise. She could choose something uncomfortable to please others, but she didn't have to in order to avoid danger.
Her meandering thoughts turned to the source of her newfound freedom; Christopher. He had asked a little while ago for the intimacy of sharing a bath. In order to avoid conflict, she had been inclined just to let him make the decision, but he had begged her to be honest. And honestly, she had wanted to be alone. He hadn't been angry. He had been disappointed but had acquiesced to her wishes. He listened to me! He had listened in bed too, she remembered, taking her quickly to minimize the pain, just as she had asked.
Affection towards her husband stirred within her. She had been attracted to him because he was handsome and soothing and represented safety. But suddenly she liked him. I want his company because he's Christopher. He's safe and kind and he draws me in ways I don't fully understand. These are good thoughts, and I like them. I feel content. Perhaps someday she would understand happy. But for today contentment measured among the most pleasant things she had ever felt, like this warm soothing salted bath, like crying when one needed to, like the lovely pleasure she had felt earlier today when she had let Christopher touch her.
I should let him touch me again, she decided. He wants to, I'm sure of it. She also felt again the shy curiosity about the act. He said that once her soreness faded she would enjoy him putting… that inside her. It's hard to imagine, she thought, it stung and burned so badly the first time. Perhaps now, since she was open, the discomfort would not recur.
She had been sore all evening, a lingering embarrassing reminder that she had taken all her clothes off and been naked with a man who had touched her intimate parts and then thrust himself inside her. But the ache was fading in the warm water, and the man was her husband.
We pledged our bodies to each other, forsaking all others. That means I owe him access to my mine. The realization that he also owed her access to his made her smile as a confusion of images and sensations filled her mind; of eyes filled with flattering desire, lips kissing her, arms embracing and supporting, fingers eliciting naughty pleasure from her unmentionable places. Heat coiled in her belly.
She sat up taller, her breasts breaking the surface of the water, the nipples hardening in the cool air. I liked it when he touched me there, and he liked to do it. She hesitantly stroked one bud. Nice, but not really the same. And lower, am I ready to be touched there again? Her hand slid under the water, down her belly. The bruises hardly hurt anymore, but touching herself proved too daunting, and she stopped. I'll leave the intimate caressing to my husband. I suggested waiting until tomorrow, but right now I want to be touched. Am I brave enough to ask him? she wondered. Then she shook her head. Not really. However, her nightgown remained in the bedroom. I can emerge nude. That might be clue enough.
Finished bathing, she stood and picked up a towel, pleased to be able to bend over. Then she dried herself quickly. Leaving the tub, the chill in the room from the drafts of wintery air filtering around the windows stung her, and her nipples hardened further. Good. Before her nerves could stop her, she walked quickly through the front room to the bedroom. Christopher reclined on the bed, reading a novel. He glanced up, and she grinned to see his eyes widen and his jaw drop.
“Did you have a good bath, love?” His calm voice seemed at odds with his stunned expression. Clearly, he had not expected a move this bold.
She smiled sweetly at him. “Yes. I really needed that. Perhaps, some time, we can do… what you suggested.”
“Let me know when you're ready,” he told her eagerly.
“Is it normal for a husband to give his wife so much power over the choices?” she asked, surprised again by his generosity and consideration.
“How do I know?” He shrugged, his lips curling into a white-toothed grin. “I've never been married before. But I doubt it matters. Others have their marriages, but this is ours. I know what I want it to become, and I won't get there by being controlling.”
She climbed onto the bed beside him. “That's a significant mark,” she said, indicating the sheet.
“Yes.” He winked. “Someone was deflowered here.”
She put on a shy, innocent expression that was only half feigned. “I think it was me.”
“You think? Aren't you sure?” He raised one eyebrow, and something about the position of his lips suggested he was concealing a smile.
“You know, I'm not sure,” she teased.
Christopher grinned before adopting a playfully wounded air. “If you've forgotten, perhaps I should remind you.”
“Perhaps you should.” Did I really just say that? What a hussy. But she couldn't help beaming. An unknown sensation rose up in her. I don't know what this is…but it's powerfully good.
His wolfish expression turned concerned. “How's your back?” he asked.
She rolled her shoulders. “Better.”
“Let me see.”
Blushing, she turned reluctantly. I wish they would just go away. I'm no beauty, but at least, from the front, I look…normal.
“It does look better, I think,” he commented, trailing one finger along her skin. The deadened sensation told her he was touching scar tissue. “The bruises are all yellow. Nothing's purple anymore, and all the scabs are solid. Can you lie on it comfortably?”
She lowered herself to the cool sheets and positioned herself. “Not too bad.” And completely hidden. That's even better.
“Good. Your belly?” He trailed his fingers across the skin.
She squirmed at the tickling touch. “Much better. Really, that part wasn't as bad as it looked. His strength was about gone at that point, so those bruises were colorful but not very deep.”
His palm came to rest on her skin. “I'm glad to hear it. I was worried about you.”
“I was worried about me too,” she admitted. “I think the corset didn't help.”
“Likely not. No more of that. You're slender enough.” And then he leaned over her, lowering his mouth to hers and kissing her again.
She slid her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.
“Kat, are you feeling better here?” He slid his hand down to her mound.
“Yes,” she admitted through her blush. “It stopped aching in the bath.”
“Would you like to be close again?” Uncertainty chased across his features.
Steeling herself against her own discomfort, she hastened to reassure her husband. “I think… yes.” She colored prettily. It felt wanton to be asking for his intimate caresses, but she couldn't help herself. So many slaps and punches, so few hugs had left her deprived, and she was hungry to be touched.
He sat back, stripping off his clothing and shedding it wildly all over the floor. Then he joined her again, stretching out beside her. He cupped the delicate arch of her neck in one hand, turning her towards him for long arousing kisses.
“Are you feeling brave, love?” he asked at length.
“What did you have in mind?”
“I want your tongue in my mouth again. Can you do that?”
“Oh.” Recalling the deep kisses that had so wonderfully enhanced their last lovemaking, she smiled. Yes. I can do that. She leaned toward him for the kiss and did as he had requested, tasted him timidly, like the shy girl she was. She wasn't sure how to cope with her own desire but felt it nonetheless.
He let her explore, le
t her enjoy the taste, the growing sense of her own boldness, and then finally pulling away. “Well done, love. You're learning so fast. And now, let me turn my attention to these pretty little breasts of yours. They look… lonely. See how they reach for me? Do they want to be touched, Kat?”
“Please.” Her back arched in eager anticipation.
He cupped one in each hand and lowered his face, pressing his lips to the silky skin between. Her breath caught as he slid his mouth over the dainty globe, wetting it in a burning line. He snaked out his tongue and teased the nipple.
“Oooh,” she breathed, “how nice.”
“And this?” He sucked the sensitive peak into his mouth.
She had no words, but really, she didn't need them. Her soft sigh told him what he needed to know. He tugged and licked and teased her, and she responded eagerly, clutching the back of his head and pressing him closer. This touch had the intensity she had missed in the bath. A partner made all the difference. Christopher makes it different. She was not alone anymore. She was part of a family, a real family.
“That feels nice,” she murmured.
“Good.” His voice rumbled against her breast, “I want you to feel wonderful.”
His hand shaped and gently squeezed the other side. Finally, he released the wet, straining nub and turned to the other.
She sighed again as he pleasured her. Each tug on her breast created an answering sizzle low in her belly. Arousal grew, bringing wetness, making her ready for her husband.
Her hands left his hair and stroked down his back, feeling the bunched muscles under the smooth skin. He's a beautiful man. And astonishingly, he's mine. This tender lovemaking would be available for her to enjoy for the rest of her life. Perfect.
Suddenly he shifted. Leaving her nipples bereft he trailed his lips over her belly, kissing the partially healed bruises and teasing her navel before moving lower still, his hands parting her thighs.
What mischief is he up to now? “Christopher?”
“Trust me, love,” he replied. “I want to make you feel good.”
“Like this?” He can't be serious.
Their eyes met across the plain of her belly, and she noticed the hungry gleam in his silver gaze. “Yes. I can't wait to taste you. Open.”
She tensed, then made herself relax. His touches so far have been good. He wouldn't ask me to do anything that was wrong or bad. Trust is a choice, isn't it? She closed her eyes as his fingers opened her, baring her intimate parts to his gaze.
“You're very wet, little love,” he told her gravely.
Oh no! What have I done now? “You said that was good,” she reminded him, fighting down panic.
Christopher dropped his teasing air. “It is,” he reassured her. “Kat, do you… like… to be made love to?”
“I do. Am I a bad girl?” she asked, her voice hesitant as fear threatened to overwhelm her. She suddenly wanted not to be lying naked and vulnerable before this man, but to hide in the wardrobe.
“No. You're a good wife,” he replied firmly.
And then he lowered his lips, stopping her voice. He made love to her with his mouth, kissing and licking her in that tender spot he had caressed earlier, and it felt even sweeter than she remembered. Gradually fear gave way to pleasure, to trust. She recalled, at last, why she'd put faith in him to begin with. It wasn't desperation, it was instinct, one deeper than fear. Christopher will never harm me. Knowing again that she was safe, Katerina forced herself to relax and let him play.
* * *
“And now, let's see if you're really better.” Christopher slid a finger deep into his wife's body. Her back arched as he penetrated her. Very nice. She likes that. But could she handle a little stretching? He pulled out and returned, with two fingers this time, and he could see from the faint clenching of her teeth that it did sting a bit; after all, he'd removed her maidenhead earlier that day. But then she relaxed, arching into it, liking the pleasure more than she feared the discomfort. Satisfied she would be able to take him in when the time came, he returned his attention to loving her, working his fingers in and out to prepare her while he licked and suckled.
“Christopher?” she called out in a voice that had a hint of a wail to it.
“Love?”
“It's happening again.” She squirmed, shifting her hips, and he understood what she meant.
“It will be good again. Let it happen,” he urged, glad her moment of panic had passed.
Katerina tossed her head on the pillow, seemingly aching for release, and he worked diligently to get her there. She hovered on the edge, so he spread his fingers and sucked hard, and she orgasmed with a sweet cry. She arched her back, completely undone and unashamed at her response. And then he slid his fingers out.
She lay panting as he bent her knees, positioning them widely apart. He aligned himself, feeding the tip inside her again. He didn't want to risk reopening the wounds on her back by rubbing her body on the sheets, so he slid one arm under her shoulder blade to keep her stationary as he pressed slowly into her. If I do this correctly, there should be no pain.
Katerina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She still felt very tight, and his entry must have stung a bit, but she accepted it. He paused for a moment to let her catch her breath and then slid to the hilt inside her. She made a soft sound.
“Is that all right, love?” he asked, stilling his motion again.
“Yes. What an odd sensation.” Katerina rocked her hips to one side and then the other.
“You'll adjust.” He worked his other arm under her, pinning her completely so she lay captive to his passion. She looked delighted. She shifted, instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist.
He met her eyes, startled. She seemed to have a natural understanding of what was needed. Then he lowered his mouth to hers for a long kiss while he began to thrust inside her. The friction of his movement seemed to please her, if the way she whimpered and sighed each time he surged deep was any indication. She met each inward glide with a sideways shiver. The movements added spice to her enticing heat and wetness. Her flesh fluttered around him, ratcheting his own pleasure to greater heights until at last he moaned and emptied himself inside her.
“Was that good?” she asked him as his climax faded.
He had to take a moment to catch his breath. “I think… I'm going to like being married very much. What about you?”
“I'm starting to think there might be reason to hope.”
“Good. I'm so very glad you like to be touched.” He slid out of her, rolling to his side and pulling her into his arms. “Let's sleep, love. It's been a long day, and we have much to do tomorrow too.”
“Yes,” she agreed, snuggling into his embrace. “Our wedding day is over. Our marriage is beginning.”
“It is.” He kissed her lips and they dozed off together.
* * *
A few blocks away, Adrian Bennett stretched out in bed beside his wife and took her in his arms, stroking the fiery silk of her hair. “Julia?”
“Yes, my darling?”
“Why did you do this?” he asked, his face wreathed with concern.
“Do what?” she replied, feigning innocence.
Her attempt did not fool her husband. “You know what. You orchestrated the whole thing. Why was Christopher supposed to marry that woman?”
“She needed it,” Julia replied simply.
He raised one eyebrow. “And what about him? She's a ruin. How is this going to be good for him?”
Julia thought about her words carefully. “She's not a ruin, at least I don't think so. She's hurt, to be sure, but I think there's hope. I mean, I've been her friend for the last year. I know she was very shy tonight but was probably because you were there. When she's comfortable, she's quite charming and sweet. There's a real woman there, under the pain. Once she heals a bit, they'll be quite good together. If I didn't think so, I wouldn't have done this. Besides, Christopher has always been a little… self-centered. He knows how
handsome he is, how easily women fall into his arms. It will be good for him to focus on someone else's needs.”
“What?” he asked, concern hardening to a pointed, narrow-eyed stare.
Oh dear, I didn't suppress that feeling deeply enough. “It's nothing.”
“Tell me, Julia.” As though her husband would consent to being put off.
She attempted again to prevaricate, feeding out a partial truth. “Well, he's always been a bit of a rake, you know? The gossips say he had an… indiscretion with an opera singer a few months ago.”
Adrian shrugged. “And? He's young. These things happen.”
Julia compressed her lips and gave her husband a speaking look. “I don't like that they do. He doesn't need to cheapen what is best between a man and woman in such a way. It's time for him to grow up and understand how much better love can be. Katerina has many fine qualities. She'll be as good for him as he is for her.”
Adrian smiled. She knew that, like his son, he'd sown quite a few wild oats when he was young, but Julia wasn't backing down. The passion between a husband and wife was so much better than flings with loose women. He'd admitted as much more than once.
“Come now, love,” Adrian urged, “I won't believe you did this because of a months-old affair. Tell the truth, Julia.”
“Fine.” Her voice was suddenly fierce. “I want her for myself. I want to be her mother. I love her like a daughter and…”
“And you've missed having one all these years?” Finally, Adrian understood, if the look on his face was any indication.
“Yes,” Julia admitted, bitter grief twisting her lips and stinging her eyes. “She would have turned nineteen in March. It's only a few months difference.”
He gave a single, slow nod. “Julia, Katerina can't replace Andrea.”
Her voice wavered as she answered. “I know. But she's special too.”
“And now she can be yours?” he guessed.
“Yes.”
“Are you certain she's capable of becoming the kind of wife he needs?” he pressed, aiming straight at the heart of the matter.
“She already is,” Julia insisted, “and I'm sure she will get better as time goes on.”
Keeping Katerina (The Victorians Book 1) Page 11
