It was pure pleasure to have the weight of it off her neck. As she did every night when she took her hair down, she rotated her shoulders—and then stopped. Her breasts were at his eye level and they had his attention.
A warmth roiled deep in her lower belly and a curiosity in her mind.
His eyes had darkened with interest. He rested his hand on her waist. He raised his gaze to her. It was almost a sin for a man to have such dark lashes or such sparkling blue eyes.
“I want you, Willa. Do you understand exactly what that means?”
In this moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the world.
“I’m told to do what you tell me.” Her mother’s instruction didn’t seem daunting at all right now. “And I will, although I don’t know how good I will be at counting backward from a hundred.”
If she had popped him in the nose, he couldn’t appear more startled. “Count backward?”
Willa nodded, sinking down on the bed. She removed her kid slippers. It had bothered her to stand on the coverlet in them. “Mother suggested it. She said that way it will be all over before I know it.”
Matt burst out laughing. He sat on the bed beside her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Count backward?”
Willa wasn’t certain what was so funny. Should she not have told him? She nodded warily.
He caught her mood. “Please, I’m not laughing at you. I’m just . . .” He paused as if looking for a word and found it. “Charmed. I’m charmed to hear you say that. Your honesty, Willa, is a gift.” He leaned back, resting on one arm, and gently pulled her with him. “You were told to count to a hundred?”
“Backward,” Willa added. She caught her hair and pulled it over one shoulder so it wasn’t beneath her.
His gaze met hers. He sobered. “My hope is that you are enjoying yourself so much, you can’t remember how to count.”
Her mother had not said anything about enjoyment. However, Cassandra had. “Is that why everyone claims you are a good lover?” An hour earlier she wouldn’t have dared to say such a thing. However, being with him—like this—seemed completely right. Why, they both were still dressed.
“Now the pressure is on,” he said in mock dismay followed by a self-deprecating smile. “That ‘lover’ gossip is stuff and nonsense. They prattle on like that because they have nothing else to talk about. The only opinion I am interested in is yours and, together, we’ll find what please us both.”
That was a very nice promise. Especially the word “together.”
He stroked her hair, watching it flow through his fingers. “So lovely,” he murmured before lifting his gaze to meet hers. “Willa, kiss me the way you did in the coach.”
How could she refuse such a simple request?
Willa leaned toward him. Their lips met.
And she was kissing him.
It was a perfect kiss, or so she thought—until his lips parted and she felt his tongue trace the closed line of hers.
That tickled. Her startled lips parted and then he taught her something about kissing. Pressed lips had nothing over being able to drink the breath of her partner.
He didn’t force. He waited until she moved toward him. The kiss took on a new life. Their mouths fit in a way she’d never imagined. With a soft sigh, Willa gave herself over to him because he knew more than she did, and she was liking the lesson. He drew her down to the bed, his arms gathering her close.
As if from a distance, she heard him slip off his shoes and let them drop to the hardwood floor. He eased her on her back so the kiss could deepen. She liked what he was doing with his tongue. She tried to copy his movements, catching his tongue and lightly stroking it with her own. He reacted by making their kiss fiercer, and Willa felt everything inside her rise toward him.
She tingled .
Every inch of her.
Just as Annie predicted.
It was Matt who broke it off. He was practically on top of her, but the weight of his body didn’t bother her. In fact, like his kiss, it felt good.
He smiled down at her. His breathing had gotten heavy and she was conscious of their legs tangled together, their feet dangling off the edge of the bed. “I want to make love to you, Willa.”
Love. There was that word again.
“But I will not do anything you don’t like,” he said.
She reached back and lifted her hair so that she wasn’t lying on it. “I know you won’t. I also believe you are right.”
“About what?”
“The counting. I’m not going to bother because I don’t want to be distracted. Not right now.”
Camberly was handsome, that was true. But when he laughed, he was impossible to resist.
Before she knew what he was about, Matt rolled to his back, bringing her with him. She found herself astride his body, her bum on his abdomen. His hands pushed her skirts up to her thighs. She liked the feeling of him beneath her. He pulled the ribbons on her stockings, loosening them.
“The dress is beautiful on you, Willa. But I’d like to see you without it.”
She’d known that husbands and wives were naked in bed together. However, she’d actually imagined that everything happened under covers and in the cloak of night.
Instead, the late day’s sun came in through the room’s many windows. She could hear the sounds in the house and on the street. No one knew what was happening in here save she and Matt . . . her husband.
Willa shook her hair back and dragged it forward out of her way. She reached behind her for the dress’s lacing. His hands ran up and down her thighs. They were warm and knowledgeable. He began to unroll her stocking down her legs.
Where he touched, she grew heated.
She gathered her skirts, lifted them, and pulled her dress over her head. Of course, her hair caught in the material. Willa struggled until Matt rose to sit, moving her into his lap. He easily freed her.
Her thighs now cradled his hips. His lips pressed a kiss on her neck.
Willa didn’t know what he did with the dress. She didn’t care because he’d begun nibbling her skin, working his way up to her ear. She placed her hands on her shoulders. Her breasts were full and tight against her lawn chemise. She wore it and a thin petticoat tied at her waist and nothing more.
All the blood in her body, all the sensation, was flowing to a few key spots, including the juncture where she was snug against him.
She knew he was hard. No one could have missed that. Her body took his measure. Everyone’s prediction was correct: he was not small.
But she was not afraid. Willa might not be certain of the mechanics, however she had a strong idea about what he was going to do—and she had never wanted something more in her life.
Her body began moving with an accord of its own as if anxious to be closer to him. She slid along his breeches, so sensitive she could feel every button and fold of clothing.
Matt bit her ear. The nip was a pleasure. She pressed herself down harder on him. He groaned, meeting her eye.
“You are perfect,” he whispered. “The things you are doing to me.”
He sounded as if she had power, as if she had control. “I think you are perfect, too.”
His smile turned seductive. His hand hooked under the strap of her chemise. Her nipples were like hard buds. Usually she was embarrassed when they tightened, but not now. She let her shoulder slip out of the strap. He pulled it down, revealing her breast. He weighed it, stroked it, and then put his hot mouth against her, and Willa was undone.
Her hand pulled on the tapes of her petticoat, loosening it. She wanted him to touch all of her. Every inch of her body seemed to weep for his hand upon her.
Matt undressed her until she was sitting on his lap naked. He kissed her in places she’d not thought to be kissed. His hands ran over the indent of her waist and the curve of her hips.
She wanted him to never stop. But he did. He rested his palm against her belly, his fingers lowering to the most intimate part of
her.
He touched her.
Willa gave a small cry at the exquisite, keen sensation.
He drew back and she followed him. “Is this it, Matt? Is this making love?” She felt as if drugged, as if only he knew what she needed.
“I didn’t hurt you?”
“Lord, no.”
“Shall I go on?”
He was still dressed, and yet, she did not mind. She rather liked it. She felt no shame even as she nuzzled his neck and whispered, “Please.”
Matt touched her again, this time circling the tight nub. She leaned into him, savoring the smell of him, his strength, and the magic of his fingers. Her body was prepared for him. She opened herself wider, letting him have all he wanted, and he took full advantage by slipping two fingers inside her.
Willa paused. She wasn’t certain. His lips brushed her ear. “It is all right.” She believed him, and relaxed.
The strangeness of it left her. Her body eased around him. He began teasing her again, rubbing his thumb against that sensitive flesh while leaving his fingers right where they were. “Is that all right, Willa?” he’d asked in between kissing her forehead, her nose, her cheek, and then her mouth.
Oh, yes, it was.
Heat built inside her. She caught her breath. Her hands slid around his shoulders and then she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He grounded her even as he drove her in a direction she didn’t quite comprehend—until she was there .
Her body understood. There was a tightening and then the most remarkable sense of well-being rippled through her in waves. It was as if she’d been holding herself as tight as a bowstring, only to discover the true pleasure was in letting go. She marveled at how agreeably pleasing it was.
Willa rested her head on his shoulder, savoring the enjoyment.
Matt captured her face, cupping it with both of his hands and turning her up to him. “You are amazing,” he whispered. “Incredible.”
He’d liked it as well .
Her hand ran over his shirt. “No, you are amazing.” She sounded tipsy. She also realized why his smile was so devilish. He had a dimple. It was only on one side of his mouth and didn’t appear often, but when it did, she had no defense against it.
Especially when he followed it with a kiss that curled her toes.
“I told you we’d be good together,” he said. He moved her from his lap and pulled back the bedclothes. “Here, love.”
She moved her unwieldy hair again to one side and slid under the sheets as he unbuttoned his waistcoat. She felt peaceful and drowsy. It had been a full day. A glass of wine would have been nice.
However, her senses perked up as Matt unbuttoned and took off the vest. He placed it on a chair close to the bed. He tugged his shirt over his head.
Willa couldn’t help but stare. He’d seen all of her and she was most anxious to see all of him. Her observation that he had never needed padding in his jackets was quickly confirmed. His chest was hard lean lines. He wasn’t a beefy man but sleek and smooth.
“You are staring,” Matt said.
“Of course,” she answered, and blushed at her own audacity.
“It is all right, Willa. Admire me all you will.” With those words, he began unbuttoning his breeches.
Willa should look away.
She didn’t.
Of course, she’d seen men’s parts when she’d visited museums with Cassandra—but this was different. In marble or oil, the men’s parts in art appeared to look like oysters without the shell. Their bits hadn’t been appealing to her at all. She’d once said as much to Leonie and Cassandra and they had agreed.
Matt didn’t look anything like an oyster. Rodney, Kate had said. His did look like a rod -ney. It was a staff with a knobbed head. A large one.
He folded his breeches and put them on the chair with his other clothes before climbing into the bed with her. He pulled the sheet over them.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Willa wondered if she looked pale. She nodded. Then she had to ask, “Are they all that big?”
Matt knew exactly what she was asking about. “Yes,” he answered. “Mine is actually quite normal.”
However, it was bigger than two fingers. It was also very unattractive. Not as ugly as oysters, but not visually appealing, either.
“They are all like that?”
“Yes, Willa.” He propped his head on one hand and said, “Are you all right?”
“You keep asking me that.”
“I don’t want you to feel as if I will overrun your wishes. Or that I am pushing you.”
Understanding dawned on her. “We haven’t coupled yet.”
“No, we haven’t. We were just enjoying each other.”
She considered a moment. “Do I need to start counting now?”
He laughed and pulled her close to him. “I prefer you to kiss me instead.”
That she could do.
It did not take many kisses before a deep yearning started building inside her again. It was as if he’d discovered what she liked best and this time, he’d set right to it.
She, too, had explored and learned a few things. Matt responded every time she kissed his ear. He adored her breasts and they felt very much the same way toward him in return.
And what she truly liked was his weight upon her.
His kisses became more purposeful. She began to realize how much he’d held himself back earlier. Now, it was as if he was being driven. As if she had unharnessed a force within him. His hands cupped her buttocks and curved her to him. The hair of his legs tickled her thighs as she cradled him. She pressed her breasts against his hard chest, her abdomen alongside his. In bed, their difference in height did not matter and she was soon willing to do whatever he wanted—
The tip of him pushed against her intimately. He stroked her with that very hard staff, mimicking the earlier strokes of his fingers. She flinched at the touch. He gentled her with soft words in her ear.
“Precious,” he whispered. “So precious.”
He meant her. She was what was “precious” to him.
Her legs opened to him. He felt good as he slid himself up and back. Very good.
Matt raised his weight up. He looked down at her, his eyes dark with concern, or was it lust? “This may hurt.”
She had no fear. There had been some discomfort the last time, but pleasure had quickly replaced pain.
“I’ll do this quick. You are so ready, but, Willa, I don’t know if I can hold back once I start. Do you understand?”
She cupped his face in her hands. Looking into his eyes, she promised, “I will be fine.”
His lips found hers. He kissed her, deep and hard. She curved toward him. She knew he would never hurt her.
The tip of the shaft was right where his fingers had been.
And then he thrust forward, and it was as if she was being rendered in two. A sheering pain cut through her.
Chapter 8
Matt felt her tear.
He wanted to pause, to take a moment, but Willa had him. She was tight and closed around him. He’d never experienced anything that felt this good, this right.
His mind was not his own.
He registered her distress. His kiss swallowed her cry. Her hands moved from around his neck to pressing her palms against his shoulders. She tried to buck against him, to free herself, and that was not helping matters. It just drove him deeper—which was where he wanted to be, embedded in her.
Matt used his weight to try and hold her still. What had started as exciting and lusty had turned dark and punitive. He also knew he couldn’t let Willa go, not at this moment. She needed to understand what lay beyond the pain. That this joining was more than an animal act. There was beauty to it and deep satisfaction.
But first came pain.
It took all his stamina to hold himself steady. “Willa, Willa.”
“Let me go .”
“I can’t.” That was an understatement. “If I
do, you’ll never know.” However, the truth was, he’d reached that point of no return. He didn’t want her hurt, and yet, his base nature would not release her.
He held her his arms, even as he started moving again. His lips to her ear, he promised repeatedly, “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t.” And yet, he knew he was.
This was not a joyful experience for her. There was blood. He could feel it. He tried to hasten his coming. His body fought him. It liked the feel of her.
Seconds seemed like hours until, at last, he buried himself to the hilt; the desire was overwhelming, his release all the more powerful.
The life force drained from him. He felt it flow into her. It was done. They were complete.
Willa had gone limp. She would not thank him for his. She was done with him.
Moving to one side, he fell upon the bed, one arm across her chest. He could not move. She’d claimed all of him.
And then she coldly shoved his arm away.
With energy he did not have, he made himself rise up. “Willa—”
She gave her back to him. He reached for her but she swatted him away, drawing her knees up. “You hurt me.”
“I’m sorry. It won’t be like that next time.”
“There won’t be a next time.” She pulled the covers around her. “I hated that.” Her shoulders shook, and he realized she was crying.
“Willa, please. You tore. It had to have been painful—”
She shot him a wild look as if he was a murderer. “The whole thing is disgusting. I feel dirty and used. It is foul .”
Her voice had risen, and Matt feared she was in danger of growing hysterical. How was it that he, a man who enjoyed sex, who worked to be a good lover and please his companions, had botched the whole matter with his wife?
And it was his fault. He should have pulled out but he couldn’t. For the first time, he’d lost control.
He looked at his spent sex. The bastard had a mind of its own.
Matt reached to put his hand on her shoulder but then thought differently. She cried silently and it broke his heart. This was a woman who was accomplished at protecting her feelings. If she’d been one of his sisters, she would be tearing the room apart. Or him.
The Duke That I Marry: A Spinster Heiresses Novel Page 10
