Читать книгу Christmas Wishes Part 1 - Линн Грэхем, Elizabeth Rolls - Страница 35

Chapter Six

Maddy had never realised that Bets had a romantic streak at all, let alone one a mile wide. She was tenderly arraying Maddy in her very prettiest lace-edged nightgown, despite her protests that it was nowhere near warm enough for a winter’s night.

Bets smirked as she twitched the linen sleeve of the nightgown just so. ‘Never you mind that, Miss Maddy—m’lady, I should say, I reckon his lordship’ll keep you warm enough and to spare.’

She twisted her hands together in her lap while Bets brushed out her hair, long sweeps of the brush. It wasn’t like that at all. Was it?

He had believed Edward!

As if Bets had read her mind, she said, ‘Not many men who’d have married you after what Lord Montfort said. Not without they waited to see if you was breeding.’

Maddy’s hands stilled. If he’d thought Edward had... Her stomach churned. If Ash had thought that, then he must have considered the possibility that she was carrying a child. Edward’s child. She’d been too hurt by his apparent mistrust to think that through clearly.

And he still married you...why?

Shame flooded her. He’d answered that in the carriage—to protect you, of course!

Straight after she’d accused him of marrying her because he’d wanted Haydon.

He did trust you, you ninnyhammer! Trusted you enough to know that you wouldn’t have gone to Edward willingly. And he cared enough to marry you despite the possibility you might be pregnant. To protect you.

The little bronze horse caught her gaze in the mirror. She’d set it on the shelf over the fireplace. He cared enough to give you that.

Bets was still speaking. ‘Someone ought to warn you.’

Warn her?

She looked at Bets in the mirror. The old woman had her mouth primmed. ‘Been a long time, it has. I’ve been a widow longer than I was married. But you don’t forget, and seeing as how your own mam, God bless her, ain’t here to tell you what’s what—’

Maddy’s cheeks scorched. ‘Um, I do know what happens, Bets,’ she got out. Far better than she was going to confess.

Bets snorted. ‘That’s as may be, Miss Maddy. I know you’d know what goes where. Thing is, it might hurt a bit at first.’

‘Oh.’ Her cheeks were probably going to ignite. ‘I see.’

Bets brushed harder. ‘Yes. But only the first time, usually.’ A very womanly smile softened the old lips. ‘And ’specially with a man like his lordship. You can see he’s the gentle sort, for all his strength.’

‘Only the first time?’ asked Maddy, trying to ignore the ache in her breasts at the thought of just how gentle Ash could be.

‘Aye. After that—’ Bets laid down the brush and cleared her throat. ‘Well, you’ll see soon enough, judging by the way his lordship can’t take his eyes off you.’

Maddy realised in disbelief that Bets was blushing. Their eyes met in the mirror.

‘It ain’t every man who can set a girl’s knees wobbling and toss her wits out the window with one kiss under the mistletoe!’ Bets set her hands on Maddy’s shoulders. Gave them a squeeze. ‘Well. That’s that. I’ll be off to me bed.’

Maddy blinked and flapped a hand at her hair. ‘You aren’t going to braid it?’

Bets shook her head. ‘Waste of time.’ She twitched the neckline of the nightgown just so. ‘Mind you, so’s this.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘But at least he’ll have the fun of taking it off.’

Maddy’s jaw dropped. Naked? They were going to do what they’d done in the carriage naked?

* * *

When she heard his knock on the door, Maddy was behind the screen, washing her face and hands. ‘Come in!’ She set the ewer down with trembling hands.

The door opened. Closed.

‘Maddy?’

She hauled in a breath. ‘Here. Behind the screen.’

‘Ah.’

She leaned against the washstand, breathing carefully, shocked to realise that she was trembling. Nerves, she told herself. Perhaps he wouldn’t want to do it again? A very faint hope. Most bulls and rams after a suitable rest, say half an hour or so, were more than happy to perform their duty again.

She stiffened her spine. She couldn’t hide here all night, even if she had made a fool of herself. With a deep breath, she walked out from behind the screen to face her husband.

Her mouth dried at the sight. Oh, Lord! He had already dispensed with coat and waistcoat, and the lacings of his shirt hung loose, revealing the merest glimpse of a powerfully muscled chest. She swallowed, watching helplessly as he prepared to pull it off over his head, feeling again that dizziness, the aching emptiness that he had caused—and filled—in the carriage.

His gaze caught hers and he stopped.

‘Would you rather I undressed somewhere else, sweetheart?’ he asked. ‘Behind that screen?’

The idiotish, cowardly part of her shrieked, Yes! Then she could dive into the bed and shut her eyes. ‘No. Unless...unless you would rather?’ Perhaps he thought it was immodest for her to be here? To watch.

He shook his head, a very wicked smile curving his lips. ‘Not at all. I’m more than happy to strip for your pleasure.’ The smile became even more wicked. ‘Perhaps tomorrow night you’ll return the favour.’

She was conscious of the heat, the wetness between her legs. Knew what it meant. Did he mean that he would find it arousing, watching her undress? Her knees shook at the thought, and prudently she backed up to lean against the high, old-fashioned bed.

‘I...um...’ He was unlacing his shirt fully, one hole at a time. ‘I have to apologise.’

He looked at her. ‘For what?’

‘For...for the things I said. In the carriage.’ She swallowed. ‘I know that you trusted me. There’s no excuse for what I said about you marrying me for Haydon because that was exactly what I offered you. I’m sorry.’

‘And will you accept my apology?’ he asked quietly. ‘Not just for thinking you might not have told me everything, but for rushing you in the carriage? My excuse is pathetic—I wanted you too much.’

‘You wanted me?’

‘Oh, yes.’ His gaze caressed her as he finished unlacing his shirt. Stole her breath. ‘And I want you now.’

‘Oh.’ Her voice failed her. So they were going to...

Thought failed as well, but his smile told her he knew exactly what she would have thought if her mind hadn’t melted. Still wearing the smile, he hauled his shirt off over his head and dropped it.

She had seen statues of the nude male body. Of course she had. Secretly she had doubted that the real thing could be quite as godlike as the sculptors seemed to suggest.... The sculptors, she realised, had indeed not got it quite right. For one thing they had not the advantage of working with living flesh and gleaming supple skin. With swells of muscle that bunched as a man bent to remove stockings and shoes. With firelight that shadowed every angle and danced lovingly on every hard plane. And nor could blind marble eyes possibly blaze with heat as his did as she gazed, riveted, while he unbuttoned the fall of his breeches....

Her eyes widened as he slid off the breeches and his drawers. Apparently the sculptors had got something else wrong, too. No statue she had ever seen had looked remotely like that. There wasn’t a fig leaf in the world big enough.

He had gone very still. ‘It won’t hurt again, Maddy,’ he said quietly. ‘My word on it.’

Was the man a mind reader? ‘It wasn’t that,’ she lied. Or not entirely that.

‘No? What, then?’

Oh, Lord! ‘Well, I haven’t seen a real one before,’ she said, desperately. ‘Only statues.’ She thought about it. Not quite true. ‘At least, not a man’s pizzle,’ she said, feeling her cheeks heat.

They heated even more as his eyes widened and an unholy amusement curved his mouth.

‘Pizzle?’ he repeated in a very neutral voice, and she knew, just knew, she’d said the wrong thing.

Gritting her teeth, she said, ‘I take it you don’t call it that?’

He shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, in the sort of voice that suggested he was trying very hard not to laugh. ‘That’s a little...agricultural.’

‘Well, what is it called, then?’ she demanded.

He grinned outright. ‘We’ll get to that. Right now—’ his gaze heated ‘—I’m much more interested in making love again. And this time we’re going to do it properly.’

Properly? ‘Didn’t we do it properly before?’ she asked. ‘I mean, I didn’t know what—’

‘You did it properly,’ he assured her. ‘I didn’t.’

She blinked. She’d brought enough bulls, rams and the occasional horse to tup to know that it was perfectly possible she was already carrying his child. Surely that constituted doing it properly?

‘But—’

‘Properly, Maddy.’

His voice was a promise. Or a threat, depending on how you viewed the blaze in his eyes.

‘Or perhaps,’ he murmured, coming towards her, ‘I should say we’re going to do it improperly. Extremely improperly.’

Definitely a threat. Her breath lodged in her throat as he set his fingers to the buttons of her nightgown and began to undo them. Button by button, he undid the nightgown, undid her, until the gown hung open and her heart beat a frantic tattoo against her ribs.

* * *

Ash’s mouth dried at the sight as he reached for control. For the strength not to simply rip the gown from her, throw her on the bed and ravish her. That prim, demure, lace-edged linen gown was possibly the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. He steadied his breathing. Light and shadow played over her, over the half-revealed sweetness of delicately curved breasts, the slender sweep of her waist and the swell of her hips. Hands shaking, he pushed the gown from her shoulders.

She gave a startled gasp as it pooled on the bed, leaving her naked to the waist. In a defensive gesture, her arms came up to shield her breasts.

He smiled and encircled her wrists gently. ‘Are you going to be shy with me?’

She flushed and bit her lip so that he immediately wanted to nip at it just there himself. Nip it and soothe it with his tongue. He leaned forward and kissed her.

He was lost in wonder as he kissed his way down her throat, heard the gasps and moans she tried to hold back. She lost the battle as his mouth closed gently over her breast and he sucked. She arched on a moan and he bit with exquisite care.

His control nearly broke at the soft scream, but he hung on. This time she was going to have everything he could give her before he took her. Every pleasure, every delight. Slowly, he released her breast, eased back, straightened.

Her eyes opened, and she looked down at his hand, tanned against the cream silk of her breast, his fingers gentle on the damp pink nipple.

‘May I touch you?’ she asked softly.

His lungs locked at the husky tone in her voice. ‘Please.’

One small hand reached out, and she traced the curve of his shoulder, trailed her fingertips along his biceps, igniting fires in their wake. He gritted his teeth and hung on to his sanity while she discovered his chest. One finger circled a nipple, and he groaned as it tightened.

‘Ash?’ Uncertainty quivered in her voice and the fingertip slowed.

‘Don’t stop,’ he told her. He didn’t care if it killed him.

‘Oh.’ The fingertip took up its travels again. ‘You kissed me. There.’

His mind blanked. That probably would kill him. ‘I’d like that, too.’ And he took a death grip on his control as her wet, warm mouth closed over his nipple. She bit very gently and he groaned at the fierce pleasure.

‘Is there anything else you’d like?’ she whispered against his hungry flesh.

Aching, he grasped her hand, led it lower.

‘There?’ she whispered.

‘Oh, yes,’ he breathed. And then stopped breathing as she stroked his straining length, explored him with a shy curiosity that nearly unmanned him.

Shaking, he closed her fingers around him, showed her how to reduce him to burning, savage need.

‘Enough,’ he said at last, and eased her hand away, clamping down on the urge to tumble her back and simply take her.

Instead, he slid to his knees before her and tugged gently at the nightgown still caught under her bottom, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘Lift up for me, Maddy.’

She obeyed, and he slipped the nightgown from beneath her. It fell to the floor, God knew where. He had eyes and thought only for the delight before him.

He set his hands to her knees and, ignoring her gasp, pressed them gently apart, exposing her fully to his gaze.

‘You’re looking at me,’ she said in a high, shocked voice.

‘Yes.’ His whole body was an aching mass of need, but he reined it back. ‘And I’m going to do a great deal more than look.’

Not giving her time to think, let alone ask questions, he leaned forward and kissed her belly. The soft skin flickered and bunched under his caress, and he slid a finger into the dimple of her navel, probing gently.

* * *

Maddy couldn’t think, only feel, as that finger played in her navel, the movement matching the pulsing ache between her legs so that her body shifted in restless need. His hand shifted away, lower, and was replaced by his mouth, his tongue, swirling wet, hot circles on her quivering flesh. Fire danced and burned along each nerve at the wet probe of his tongue as his fingers slid over her inner thighs, teasing, seeking. All strength fell from her and she collapsed back onto the bed as his tongue left her navel, as he bit gently at her shivering belly and his coaxing fingers found the damp secrets between her thighs. His fingers stroked, teased and seduced.

Shock seared every nerve, every fibre, as his warm breath drifted along her thigh. His breath, the nip of his teeth and the sweep of his tongue, traced the path his teasing fingers had blazed, and where they stroked now...

He wasn’t... He couldn’t... He did, and her mind fractured as his mouth closed over her in the most shockingly intimate kiss. Heat speared her—dark, demanding heat—as his mouth and tongue ripped the world away. One arm lay in heavy possession across her waist, holding her there helpless while he pleasured her.

Slowly, carefully, he penetrated her with one finger, and she tightened around him, frantic, urgent. Another finger and her body bucked against the searing delight. He pressed up and found something inside her, something that exploded fireworks behind her eyelids, drove pleasure through her body, forcing her close to a beckoning, terrifying edge.

His mouth left her and he surged up her body, his hand still buried between her thighs. She cried out as his mouth closed over her breast once more and he suckled fiercely in wicked concert with the rhythm between her legs.

She broke, simply broke apart, her world consumed in fire as she fell, sobbing, from the precipice, felt his arms close about her and hold her safe, heard his voice soothing her as the firestorm ebbed.

* * *

Ash drew back, looked down at Maddy, his bride, his innocent bride, spread before him in delectably wanton abandon, her body still trembling in the aftermath of pleasure, her legs hanging limply over the edge of the bed. He caressed the slick, sensitive flesh and she gasped, shuddering, so sweetly responsive. And his. All his.

‘Ash?’

‘Yes, love?’ Lord, when had he ever said that to a woman? Called her that?

Her eyes opened, dazed and vulnerable. ‘Was that what you meant by improperly?’

Despite the savage need ripping at his guts, a chuckle shook him. ‘Oh, we’re getting there.’

He set his hands to the tantalising swell of her hips and murmured, ‘Roll over for me.’ She didn’t resist, but her body was so limp with pleasure that he ended up doing it for her. His hands tightened, curving over firm, smooth globes.

‘Ash...?’

The nervousness in her voice, the uncertainty, had him hardening even more with the need to take her. Make sure she knew she was his. Always. And that there was nothing at all ‘convenient’ about it.

‘Yes?’ Very gently he opened her thighs, stepped between them and pressed against the pale curves of her bottom, caressing her hips, the suppleness of her waist.

‘What...what are you doing?’

Leaving one hand on her hip to steady her, he reached between her thighs from behind, found the soft, wet heat and stroked, holding her still, leaning over her until his mouth was close to her ear. He licked, nipped gently, and felt her body shudder, heard the little moan as he teased the damp, sweet secrets.

‘I’m going to tup you, Maddy.’ He wrapped one hand around his erection, guiding it to where she was so tight and hot, and rocked, barely penetrating her. She was all eager, wet, quivering silk. Ready for him, but he wanted her more than ready. He wanted her frantic, desperate, begging for him.

* * *

Maddy’s lungs seized as he pressed in, no more than an inch, and rocked there. I’m going to tup you... Understanding sent a bolt of need flashing through her. She wanted more, needed more, but he held back.

‘Ash! Please.’

He leaned forward, covering her, until his mouth was by her ear again, his breath hot. Her body trembled, bucking against his weight. ‘What do you want, Maddy, love? Tell me.’ And he pressed a little deeper so that she cried out, aching for more.

‘Touch me!’

‘Where, little one? Here?’ He nipped at her throat, at the scrambling pulse beneath her ear.

‘Inside me,’ she got out, her voice breaking.

His strength held her effortlessly, one hand playing at her breast, the other arm hooked under her belly, his fingers teasing the sensitive nub just above where his shaft promised heaven.

‘How do you want me inside you, Maddy?’ he whispered. His fingers slid closer to the empty ache he was teasing. ‘Like this again?’

‘Your—’ Her voice broke as he rocked, stroked the taut nubbin so that fire leaped in every vein, need coiling in her belly. ‘Whatever you call your pizzle,’ she finished.

The word, when he told her, made her shiver. It sounded so hard, uncompromising.

‘Say it, Maddy,’ he murmured. ‘Say it.’

And she did.

‘I want you—all of you,’ she whispered then. ‘Inside me.’

‘I’m all yours, sweetheart,’ he whispered. ‘Only yours. Always.’

He gave himself to her, one inexorable inch at a time. Slowly. His voice shook, whether reminding himself or reassuring her, she didn’t know. Her body burned as he took all of her, body, heart and soul, with exquisite care until at last he impaled her fully and she sobbed in pleasure.

‘You like this?’ he asked, moving gently.

She couldn’t speak, only moan at the shift of his body inside her, above her, surrounding her.

‘And this?’ he murmured, changing the angle so that she gasped. ‘Or this?’

And her body exploded on a shocked cry as he found that secret place within where delight bordered on pain.

His growl of satisfaction told her he knew. And then there was nothing else, nothing beyond his body taking hers, the wet slide of him inside her and the wicked counterpoint of his fingers. Nothing but the flames building, building inside her until she hung, blind with need, on the edge of that fiery abyss. He held her there, sobbing, shaking, every stroke of his body into hers both a searing delight and an agony of delay.

He pulled back, waited, and she cried out in protest as her body wept for release. He surged back into her and she screamed as she fell, broke and shattered around him.

* * *

Ash felt his control snap at her utter surrender. Again and again he took her, without compromise, without restraint, driving deep, deeper into the hot, tight sheath convulsing about him. Consummation, white-hot and relentless, crashed over and through him. He drove in one last time, shuddering with release as he poured himself deep inside her. He hung over her for a moment, dazed, blind with pleasure, and then collapsed onto her soft, trembling body with a groan. Nothing had ever been so good. He was surprised it hadn’t killed him.

Drawing on the last of his strength, somehow he got them both onto the bed properly and under the bedclothes. Maddy murmured in sleepy contentment as he settled her into his arms, precisely where she belonged. With a sigh she nestled closer, and one small hand slid over his heart. Steel bands clamped around his chest.

He had no idea if there was a bedchamber prepared elsewhere for him and he didn’t care. He was exactly where he wanted to be. Gently he covered the hand over his heart with his own and held it there, holding off sleep. It beckoned, but the delight of having her utterly sated in his arms, completely and irrevocably his, was shockingly precious.

A little while later he felt her stir in his arms.

‘Ash?’

‘Maddy, love?’

She snuggled closer and his arms tightened as he looked down at her. Firelight gilded her face, even in the shadows of the bed, and his heart quaked as she smiled sleepily up at him. There was nothing even remotely convenient about what he felt.

‘That was definitely improperly, wasn’t it?’

He brushed his lips against her temple, breathed the fragrance of warm, soft, utterly pleasured woman. His woman. ‘Definitely.’

She sighed. ‘Apparently I like improper.’

He snorted out a laugh. ‘Just as well, under the circumstances. Go to sleep. We can be improper again later.’