No man liked deflowering an innocent. At least none that Eric had ever met. It was a messy affair, both literally and figuratively. He may not have had any firsthand knowledge, but he’d heard enough horror stories to know that it almost never went well. Gazing down at Caroline, who looked for all the world as if she were a lamb laying on a sacrificial altar, it was not very hard to imagine why.

Mothers, he thought darkly, would do well to keep their traps shut when it came to educating their beloved daughters on the perils of lovemaking. It wasn’t his fault they’d been forced to sleep with husbands who didn’t know a petticoat lane from a tea kettle, and yet he was the one dealing with the consequences.

Sex was not something to be endured. It was something to be enjoyed. That being said, he would be the first to admit he had not been looking forward to bedding his wife.

Getting her pregnant so he could return to London? Yes.

Actually doing the deed? No.

But then he’d kissed her…and everything had changed.

The taste of her lips, the soft mewling cry she’d made when he had cupped her breast, the way she’d melted around him when he had drawn her sweet little nipple into his mouth…had his self-control been any less, he would have fed the growling beast inside of him then and there.

“You needn’t be afraid of me, love.” He touched her hip and she flinched, her soft gray eyes as wide as he’d ever seen them. “You liked it when we kissed, didn’t you?”

The pretty blush in her cheeks intensified. “Yes,” she admitted after a pause. “I did. It was…very nice.”

“If you relax, this next part will be very nice too. That’s it,” he murmured when she forced her tiny fists to unclench. “That’s a darling.” Leaning up on his side, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her slowly. Leisurely. As if they’d all the time in the world.

Their legs entwined, her small feet tucking themselves between his muscular calves. His arousal pulsed against her thigh as he traced the contours of her hipbone before gliding up along her ribcage. When he reached the swell of her bosom he changed direction, fingers dancing down her flat belly and navel to the golden nest of curls that were already damp and awaiting his touch.

She stiffened when he caressed the peak of her womanhood with his fingertip. Softened when he nibbled her earlobe before kissing his way down to her nipples. He took his time, stroking her sensitive bud and suckling her breasts in tandem until she began to move restlessly against him, her body instinctively seeking what it craved but couldn’t define. At least not in so many words. But he knew what she wanted, for it was the same thing he desired with every ragged breath he drew into his lungs.

Sheer ecstasy.

Guiding her hand to his cock, he helped her find a steady rhythm. His wife may have been a shy virgin, but she was a quick learner, and with less than half a dozen tentative strokes she had him on the brink of release.

Swallowing a groan, he eased his body on top of hers, one hand tangling in her wild tresses while the other guided his hard, hot length into her. Her eyes flew open and sought his when she felt him nudge at her entrance, but she didn’t resist. She couldn’t. Like him, she was caught in a thrall neither one of them fully understood.

He slid into her inch by inch, giving her womanhood the time it needed to adjust to his length and girth. And when her delicate brows drew together and her jaw tightened he kissed her grimace away, murmuring sweet, senseless nothings against her lips.

One last slow, steady thrust and he was sheathed completely. Sweat dotted his brow as he held himself perfectly still, waiting for the line across her forehead to ease. When it did – when her nails sank into the coiled muscles in his back and she released a whimpering sob of pleasure – he began to pump in and out, carrying them both towards the edge of a precipice that was higher than any he’d ever known before.

He reached the top first but he waited, waited, waited for her to join him. A finger pressed against the pulsating heart of her desire, a deep, bruising kiss, and she was right there with him, arms flung out, head tilted up towards the blazing sun. 

With a desperate cry they both burned together.

 

That, Caroline thought dazedly as she slowly drifted back down to earth, was nothing like Mother said it was going to be.

There had been no staring at the ceiling. No clenching of teeth – at least, not in pain. She hadn’t even had to count sheep, or pretend she was doing something far more pleasant, like needlework. Instead she’d reveled in each glorious second, amazed and astonished at the pleasure two human beings were capable of giving to one another.

Wondering if her husband had experienced the same blissful euphoria as she had, she snuck a glance at him from beneath her lashes…and felt a tiny thrill of satisfaction when she saw him sprawled flat on his back with his arms crossed behind his head and a contended smile curling his lips.

Tugging the sheet up to cover her breasts, she turned towards him and gently touched his side, fingers fitting between the grooves in his ribcage. His skin was warm and covered with a silky sheen of perspiration, as was hers.

Lovemaking had been surprisingly rigorous. Not unlike riding a horse, come to think of it, although her husband had done all of the riding. Thank goodness he was such a skilled equestrian!

Biting the inside of her cheek to quell a childish giggle, she let her gaze slowly wander down the rest of his body. In the flickering light of the fire he was all lean muscle and hard lines and golden skin. Having never seen a naked man before, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was how they all looked without their clothes on.

Somehow she doubted it.

“Like what you see?” Eric said huskily, and Caroline blushed from the roots of her hair to the tip of her chin when she realized he had been watching her the entire time.

“No. I – I mean yes. I do.”

“Good.” His dark gaze swept down the length of her willowy frame, lingering on the swell of her breasts beneath the thin sheet. “So do I.”

My husband, she decided, is an absolute cad.

And she could not have been more delighted.

They may have gotten off to a bit of a rocky start – if by rocks one actually meant enormous boulders – but she knew now that it had all been an act. Eric cared for her. He must have, for how else could he have touched her in such an intimate manner? How else could he have whispered so many tender promises in her ear? How else could he have wrung such pleasure from the very depths of her soul? 

“Thank you,” she said earnestly, her heart swelling with happiness as she sat up on her elbow and beamed down at him. Free of its pins, her hair spilled over his chest in a tangle of curls. Selecting one long tendril, Eric twisted it around his finger.

“For what?” he said absently.

“For loving me.” Oblivious to the sudden frost in her husband’s gaze, she laughed lightly and leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek. He still smelled of leather and brandy, but there was a new scent on his skin she’d never smelled before.

Her.

“You do not have to say the words if you do not want to.” She kissed him once more before sitting up and drawing one long leg to her chest. “At least not right away. I know you prefer to guard your emotions. Eventually it will be nice to hear you say it, of course, but I would never press–”

“I do not love you, Caroline.”

Pouring a bucket of ice water on her head would have been kinder.

“What?” she whispered as her smile slowly faded.

“I said I do not love you.” Sitting bolt upright, Eric swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and rose to his feet. Snatching his trousers off the floor, he shoved one leg into them and then the other. “I made love to you. There is a distinct difference.”

“But…but the way you kissed me.” Her heart thumping wildly against her ribcage, she rose to her knees, helpless to do anything but watch as he quickly dressed himself. “All of those things you said to me.”

“Are no different than what I’ve said to a dozen other women. Where the devil is my – here it is.” As if he hadn’t just plunged a knife into her heart, he pulled his shirt off the back of a chair and yanked it over his head. “This doesn’t change anything, Caroline. I am sorry if you thought it would.” The pity in his eyes cut a thousand times deeper than his anger ever had. “I meant what I said earlier. I would like to us to maintain a civil relationship. One based on a mutual understanding.”

Holding the sheet to her chest as though it was a suit of armor that might somehow protect her from the pain his words were inflicting, she sank back onto her heels. “A mutual understanding of what?” she managed.

“That our marriage will always be one of convenience.” His brow furrowed. “I am incapable of love, Caroline. I should think you would have realized that by now.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “Of – of course.”

“It will be better this way, I can assure you.”

“Yes,” she replied distantly. “Much better.”

“You look rather pale,” he observed. “Would you like me to send for your lady’s maid?”

“No. I – I am sure I will be fine.” Just as soon as I find a way to stop my heart from aching, she thought silently.

Eric shrugged. “I shall bid you good evening, then. Sleep well.” 

“Good evening,” she echoed.

But it was a long, long while before she managed to fall asleep.