She was married.
Claudia sat at the dressing table, brushing her hair. She’d lost count somewhere along fifty-six strokes as her mind worked to absorb all the day’s events.
Married.
It was a strange and giddy feeling. It had been a quiet ceremony with only Poppy’s family and a few of Derrick’s friends as well as his aunt. Claudia’s father had not come. She had known he probably wouldn’t come, but she’d hoped he would prove her wrong. She would send a note to him later to let him know she was well and would come see him soon.
Derrick was behind her somewhere in the room; where precisely, she wasn’t sure, as she couldn’t see him. But she felt him, like a warm blanket around her shoulders. Her husband. She wanted to turn and find him, to study his features as she’d never allowed herself to do, but her nerves wouldn’t allow it. There was no awkwardness between them, but there was a charge in the air that was palatable. Tonight he would make her his own, and the thought terrified and exhilarated her. Was he as nervous about the marriage bed as she?
Perhaps, but certainly not for the same reasons. She was nervous because she’d never lain with a man before. But even more so, she’d never had any man look upon her while she was unclothed. Or touch the excess flesh that gave her such shame. She put a hand on her belly and felt the softness. Perhaps he wouldn’t want to touch her at all.
Try as she might, she didn’t believe that. Derrick would want to touch her. Everywhere.
That thought paralyzed the breath in her chest.
The feelings he’d evoked from touching her the few times they’d had encounters had left her shamelessly aching for more. More of what, she wasn’t certain. But surely there was more.
She’d always believed what went on between a husband and wife behind closed doors was an unpleasant thing, but Derrick had made her believe it might be quite pleasant.
Then suddenly he was behind her, his reflection standing above hers in the mirror. He was so handsome, she nearly gasped. And he was hers.
He took the brush from her and gently brought it back through her hair, his hand smoothing a path behind the brush. There was something so intimate about his brushing her hair. No one save Baubie and her mother had ever brushed her hair. He continued his brushing, all the while keeping his focus on her hair.
She allowed herself to study him in the mirror, and for the first time, she saw something other than his handsome face. There was a childlike concentration in his expression as he brushed her hair, and in that moment he seemed lost and vulnerable, and she felt the strongest need to love him. To forget her worries about one-sided affection and simply hand him her heart.
“There’s something you need to know.”
He stopped the brushing, and his eyes met hers in the mirror.
He set the brush down and walked to the bed. “Come over here.”
She chewed at her bottom lip.
He swore under his breath. “When you do that, I want to throw you down on that bed and kiss you. From the top of your head to your little dainty toes.” He shook his head and released a little chuckle. “They’re toes, that’s all, and yet they’re the most erotic toes I’ve ever seen. And that ridiculous nightgown.”
She looked down at her gown, then looked back up at him. She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off.
“It covers everything but your head and the aforementioned erotic toes. I have a confession to make, and all I can think of is bedding you.”
She swallowed, then tried to speak, but her voice failed her. Clearing her throat, she tried again, “You have a confession? Oh goodness, you want an annulment.”
“God no. What gave you that idea?”
She shrugged. “Figured you’d come to your senses.”
“Come sit with me.” He patted the bed beside him. “I won’t bite you, I promise.” He flashed her a toothy grin. “Unless you ask me to.”
She complied, but sat far enough away from him so that they could not touch without one of them moving.
“Claudia, we’re married now. Nothing will ever change that. I meant my vows.” A frown creased his brow. “I need to know that you meant yours, too.”
“Of course I did.”
He shook his head. “All right, I’m going to come right out with it. I’ve lied to you.”
“You didn’t mean your vows?”
“No, not just now. I meant that. I lied to you before.”
“Was it for a good reason?”
“That was not the response I was expecting. Is there ever a good reason to lie to someone?”
“I’ve never been certain of that myself. My mother, on occasion, lied to my father. She claimed she wasn’t lying, she was merely withholding information from him. I admit I’ve done the same. Obviously I did not tell him about my position with the paper.” She picked an imaginary piece of lint off her nightgown. “I suppose that’s horrible. To lie to your father.”
“No, I don’t think that’s horrible. We need to discuss that more. Your father, I mean, but not right now.” He rubbed his temples. “I lied to you about courting you.”
She felt the color drain from her face. “You were never seriously courting me. You never intended to win my hand in marriage.”
He didn’t answer, but the expression on his face said it all. She’d guessed correctly. All along, her doubts had been well founded.
How could she have been so stupid? She knew, deep inside, that he’d never wanted her, not really, but she’d wanted to believe it so badly, wanted it to be true, that she ignored her mental protests and blindly accepted his words. His betrayal scalded her. She wanted to hit him, which surprised her, because she’d never even considered physical violence in the past.
Her second thought was to leave. To simply gather her ridiculous nightgown around her and hail a hackney to Poppy’s house. But she was a married woman now, and while she was no longer tied down by her father’s command, she couldn’t leave Derrick on a whim. He owned her.
So she ignored both impulses and settled on the only words that would come to her. “I suspected as much.”
“I had an excellent reason. In the beginning. Or perhaps we could call it a purely selfish reason, but then something changed.”
“What was your reason?”
“Your illustrations. You told me that day you came to my office that you would have to quit when you got married. I decided to court you to prevent you from marrying anyone so that you could continue working for me.”
“An excellent reason, indeed. A very selfish reason. I would very much like to box your ears at the moment.”
“Go ahead. I deserve it.”
She closed her eyes to try and ease the anger, but it did not help. And oh, she felt the utter fool. She sent a brief prayer heavenward that the floor would simply open up and swallow her whole. Free her from this mortifying moment.
But nothing happened. She was still here, in his bedchamber wearing her nightclothes and feeling very much like an arse, if a lady could in fact, feel such a way.
“Did you intend to court me forever and never present me with the opportunity to marry another?”
“To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about it. I didn’t know you then. At first you were merely a means to an end. Do you realize that your illustrations are the reason the aristocracy started buying that paper? Before that it was a paper for the common man.”
“Is that not why you created the paper in the first place? To offer a worthy newspaper for the lower educated and lower income people?”
“Yes. But after the sales changed with your illustrations, I saw what I could do. I could make the aristocracy more socially aware. Use the paper to bring issues in front of them that they would ordinarily ignore.”
“That’s a noble cause, but I don’t believe you went about it the right way.” It was noble. And part of her couldn’t really blame him, but the part of her that screamed for him to love her cried silently in the comer of her heart.
“I’m a businessman. It’s the way I think. But I haven’t finished my story. That is why I initially started courting you, but a couple of things happened. You were more charming than I anticipated, and I found I wanted to spend more and more time with you. And then there was your connection with Richard.”
“What about Richard?”
“I’m assuming it hasn’t escaped your memory that he attacked you the other day. I knew he was that kind of man. I didn’t want to see you get into a marriage with him. He would have destroyed you. Would have taken that part of you that makes you so different from all the other women and he would have trampled it into the ground. I couldn’t allow that to happen.”
“Noble again. I feel as if I should thank you, but I’m afraid it would not be genuine.”
“That’s understandable. I’m still not finished,” he said.
“Of course not.”
“I continued courting you and trying to convince you I was sincere because I was—I am genuinely attracted to you. I enjoy your company, enjoy being near you.”
She said nothing for a long while, waiting for his words to settle in around her. He’d been lying. He hadn’t been courting her, not really, but he still maintained that physically he wanted her.
“How am I supposed to believe anything you say, considering you’ve now admitted to lying to me twice? Should I simply believe you and wait for your confession later?”
“All I can tell you is that I had one marriage based on lies, and I’m determined that this one will not be like that. It is why I had to tell you the truth tonight. Every word out of Julia’s mouth was a lie, so I know how you’re feeling tonight. I apologize for putting you in that position, but at the time, I thought I was making the right decision. Whether or not you trust me from here is up to you. I can’t convince you either way.”
How had she forgotten he’d been married before? He’d lost his wife and Claudia had completely let that escape her memory. Yet, he didn’t seem to mourn her, instead he only mentioned Julia’s deceit. It didn’t take the sting away from her deflated pride, but it did give him some justification. A person who’d been wounded by another’s lies would be more sensitive to lying himself, wouldn’t he? Her head was spinning.
“I came in here tonight terrified about consummating our marriage, and instead I get this confession, which, frankly, I did not need. Was it not bad enough that we married under such horrible conditions? You had to further humiliate me?”
“I don’t see any of this as horrible, and I am not trying to humiliate you.”
“I should have known you were lying.”
“Why is that? Claudia, you’re not exactly a great judge of character?”
“That’s not kind.”
“I apologize. I only meant that you see the good in people. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I’d rather not talk about this. It always sounds as if I’m whining, as if I’m pathetic. And frankly I’d rather you not think that of me on our wedding night.”
“I don’t think you’re pathetic. I’ve never thought that.” He turned her face so that she looked at him. “My false courtship was not about you. I know you think this is about you and whether or not you’re desirable as a woman, but that’s never been what it was about, Claudia. Before I knew you, I decided to court you to prevent you from resigning from my newspaper. I would not have made that decision had I thought you were a toad. I hadn’t planned to marry again. But I recognized that if I had to marry, you were who I would have chosen. I think you’re a beautiful, intelligent, and funny woman.”
“I’m not beautiful. I think it’s cruel that you would try to appeal to my vanity with more lies.”
“I would never lie about something like that. I know it’s hard to see where I draw the line on what I will and won’t lie about. I think I’m more qualified to judge beauty in a woman.”
“I’m too plump.” It came out in a whisper, and she looked down at the bedcovers. She hadn’t intended to say that. It was horrible to admit—not that people didn’t already notice. But she’d been more comfortable when she’d been angry with him. Somehow he’d diffused her anger, and now she sat feeling like an open wound waiting for him to pour on the salt.
“You’re no such thing. Women are all different. Some are tall and thin like Poppy, and many men find her irresistible. Other women are short, some are fleshy, some are—the list can go on. I don’t think you’re too plump. I think your body is amazing. I would love to strip off every last inch of that silly nightgown and spend the rest of the night proving to you how delicious I find your body.”
“You don’t know what my body looks like.” She let out a laugh that sounded more like a snort. “And you clearly don’t know what a good corset can hide. My breasts are entirely too large, and I have a generous belly. And my hips and thighs ...” She shook her head.
“Is this why you were terrified?”
She nodded. “I don’t want you to touch me.”
“We can’t consummate this marriage unless you let me touch you, Claudia. But I won’t touch you until you’re ready.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not you. It’s me.”
“I realize that since I’ve lied to you once, I must work to regain your trust. I’m determined to do that. No matter what my intentions toward you were in the beginning, my desire for you has always been real. I can’t fake that. Those kisses were real. The touches, all real. Someday you’ll see that.”
She didn’t know what to think or what to believe. He seemed so sincere, and she wanted to trust him. But he’d lied to her. And he’d hurt her. He’d said the one thing tonight that she’d feared all along. He hadn’t really wanted her. He’d only been after her drawings.
It stung, and all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry, but that would solve nothing. If she was honest with herself, it wasn’t the only thing she wanted to do. It was only one option swimming through her mind. All the others consisted of Derrick stripping off her clothes and kissing her. Everywhere, as he’d suggested.
She wanted to be angry with him. Angry enough to walk away, but she wanted to consummate this marriage despite her insecurities. She wanted his hands and his mouth on her body. And she wanted to explore his body as well.
Her cheeks burned with the thought, and she knew they flushed red. She brought her hands to them and tried not to look at him. He’d once remarked on her blush, wanting to know how far it traveled down her body.
“Care to share those thoughts?”
“No, thank you. I’m very tired.”
She lay down on her side, facing the wall, and pulled her nightgown tighter around her. She shouldn’t deny him his rights to her body. He’d done the honorable thing and married her, now she should do the honorable thing and allow him to consummate their marriage. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she wanted to. Despite her hurt feelings and wounded pride, she wanted him to make love to her. She wanted him to prove to her that he didn’t care that her body wasn’t perfect.
“Don’t you want to get under the covers?” Without waiting for her response, he tugged at the covers to pull them out from under her. Then he stood and gently covered her. He leaned down and kissed her, a sweet and tender kiss.
It didn’t take her long to decide to kiss him back. She opened her mouth to him and slid her tongue across his bottom lip. His throat emitted a low growl. He deepened the kiss, and she buried her fingers in his hair. She loved kissing him. It was turning out to be one of her favorite pastimes, which made it a good thing they had married, since now she could kiss him whenever she liked.
She felt the weight of his body press into hers, and even though the bedcovers separated them, she could still feel his heat. Still feel his obvious desire for her. He hadn’t been lying about that.
He moved, rubbing his hard length against her. She opened her legs slightly, wishing the bedcovers were gone, but not wanting to remove them herself. He moved again. And again. Slow and steady.
Those bloody bedcovers.
As if he’d read her mind, he maneuvered his way underneath them. Clothes still barricaded their skin, but the pressure was much greater.
They continued to kiss, deep searching kisses that curled her toes and sent warmth radiating through her body. His steady rocking against her was building something inside her, stronger with every movement. She bucked beneath him, trying to make it come faster, whatever it was.
“I want to touch you.” Derrick’s words broke the silence.
“Where?”
“Anywhere. Everywhere. Let me take this silly gown off you.”
“Put out the lights first.”
“Claudia, I’m going to see you eventually. You are my wife.”
“Not tonight.”
He nodded, then climbed off her. One by one, he doused the lights.
A moment passed, and he still did not return to the bed. He’d changed his mind. This marriage would never work. She should have done as her father suggested and retired herself to the country. She could have painted all day.
“What are you doing?” she ventured.
“Removing my clothes.”
“All of them?”
“Yes. It’s usually how I sleep. Would you prefer I wore something?”
Sleeping next to a naked man. Sleeping next to naked Derrick. The thought made her giddy, and she nearly giggled, but the gravity of the current situation extinguished her humor.
“I don’t want to change your habits,” she said.
“You may sleep nude as well.”
“I’d prefer not to.”
“Whatever makes you comfortable. But I am going to take the gown off you.”
She had no response to that, and then he was next to her. On the bed, with his mouth on hers and his hand on her ankle.
He was naked.
The thought excited yet embarrassed her. She didn’t know the first thing about what to do with a naked man.
His hand slid farther up her leg, and his mouth continued a slow seduction of her own mouth, neck, and ears. Chills danced across her skin, and her nipples peaked. Her mother had never made the marriage bed sound this pleasant. She had told her it was something she had to bear out of duty, not that it would be something she could look forward to, or enjoy. But she was certainly enjoying this. Kissing Derrick had never been a problem, though. Perhaps whatever came next was the unpleasant part. She doubted, though, that anything involving Derrick could be unpleasant.
Where was she supposed to put her hands? They rested at her sides, wadding the sheets while she waited to see exactly how far Derrick’s hand would go beneath her nightgown. At the current moment, he was up to her knee.
His mouth played at her collarbone, and she tilted her head farther into the pillow to give him better access. Oh, the things he did with his tongue. While his left hand continued to play with her knee, his right made its way to her breasts. He cupped one gently.
Cold air hit her thighs, and she realized he’d hiked her nightgown up that high. She grabbed the hem.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“I’m not positive I’m ready for you to touch me yet.”
“All right. You tell me where I can touch you, and I’ll only touch you in those places. The rest of you will be safe from my touch until you’re ready.”
Interesting proposition.
He laid her back down and kissed her again.
“But I need to take this off you.”
“All right.” She sat and felt him pull the nightgown over her head, then heard it hit the floor. She’d never been naked before except during bathtime. It was surprisingly freeing.
She felt his hand at the top of her thigh, just below where it met with her hips.
“Can I touch you here?”
The warmth of his hand felt nice. More than nice. “I think that’s all right.”
“Good. Now can I touch you here?” He moved his other hand and cupped her breast again.
“Yes.” Her voice was breathy.
“Excellent.”
The hand on her thigh slid up and slightly to the right until it lay across her most intimate part. The touch jolted her, and she released a moan.
“How about here?” he asked.
“Mmmmuh.”
“Perfect. Let’s keep going.” He trailed a finger from her breast down her rib cage and landed right on her abdomen.
She grabbed his hand. “Not there.”
“All right. You tell me when you’re ready. I want to touch you everywhere, but I’ll wait for you.” He kissed her then, allowing his tongue to play with hers. “We’ve set your limits, and I promise to stay within them.”
“Yes,” was all she could manage.
“May I take your drawers off as well?”
“Then we’ll both be naked.”
“That’s the general idea.” She heard the smile in his voice. “Relax, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. You can trust me.”
“All right.”
“Do you want me to tell you before I do something?”
“No. I think I’m ready.”
“You can touch me too. If you want.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere.”
She tentatively reached out and ran her hand across his chest. His muscles contracted beneath her touch. It was a combination of hard muscle, soft skin, and traces of feathery hair. She wanted to see him. But in order to do that, he’d have to turn the lights back on, and then he’d see her. That was out of the question. She’d have to wait to see him. Perhaps she could catch him changing or taking a bath someday.
He lay very still while her hand explored his torso. She followed a trail of hair that traveled down the length of his hard stomach, and then she bumped right into his sex. He jerked and moaned, and she pulled her hand away. Perhaps it was painful for him to be touched there. How she wished she’d had her mother to ask about these things, or perhaps a book to read for guidance.
The next thing she knew, his mouth was on her breast, and she was biting her tongue not to cry out. His warm mouth teased and taunted her, moving from one breast to the next. Gracious, she’d never known it could be like this. She wiggled her hips trying to ease the ache that persisted between her thighs.
She allowed her hands to find his back, and she ran her fingernails lightly up and down. He suckled hard on her nipple, and she cried out, arching her back.
He continued to kiss her breasts as his hand slid up her thigh and gently cupped her. No one else had ever touched her there. She’d never even imagined anyone touching her there. And if she had, it wouldn’t have been like this. His fingers parted her hair, and she could feel wetness all around.
He slid one finger into her, and she almost lifted off the bed.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Is this hurting you?”
“No.”
“Do you like it?”
“I think so.”
“How about this?” He moved his finger in and out a few times, and she rocked her hips with him.
“Yes.”
“You feel so good.” He again suckled her breast while moving his finger in and out, then in and out again.
She tried to match his rhythm, but her body felt out of control. She needed something, but didn’t know what. Knew something was coming, but wasn’t sure what it was. But God, it felt good.
Another finger slid in, and she felt his thumb rub against the tiny nub that hid beneath her hair. She cried out his name, and faster and faster he pumped his fingers into her until something happened, and for a moment everything was still and then the world turned on its axis and ripples of pleasure shook her to her toes. She knew she cried out, but she couldn’t help it. Never had she felt such amazing pleasure.
“You’re so beautiful,” she heard him say through her fog.
He hadn’t had his pleasure, of that she was certain. She reached out and placed her hand on his chest. “What about you?” was all she could think to say.
“Are you ready?”
It was her duty as his wife to please him. “What do you want me to do?”
“Give me your hand.” He took her hand from his chest and led it down his stomach and then to the hard length of him. “Touch me here.”
She ran her fingers up the length of him and felt a bit of moisture at the tip, then down to the base where she found crisp hair.
His breathing became shorter, more shallow.
“Like this,” he said as he grabbed her hand and splayed it around his organ. “Now move your hand up and down.”
She did as she was told and reveled in the feel of the soft skin. She hadn’t stroked him long before he grabbed her hand.
“No more.” His voice was shaky.
“Was I doing it wrong?”
“No. Perfect, but I need to be inside you now.”
His words tingled down her body.
His hand again found her center, and he inserted two fingers. “I want to make sure you’re ready for me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“My mother told me it was painful. But if it will bring you pleasure, then I am ready.”
“I’ll try to be as gentle as I can, but you’ve got me so randy, I don’t know how long I can make it.”
He climbed on top of her and kissed her long and hard.
She felt the tip of him inch into her, and then in one swift movement he was inside. Pain burned inside her, and she winced.
“I’m sorry. I know that’s painful.”
“I’m fine,” she lied.
He feathered soft kisses all over her face.
“I’m going to move now. I want you to let me know if it’s too unpleasant for you, and I’ll stop.”
His movements were slow and shallow at first, and it was uncomfortable. His tongue found her nipple, and he suckled her breast until she almost forgot the discomfort between her legs, and then that swirling emotion started again. The climbing feeling that something was coming.
“You feel so good.” His breathing was harder now, his words raspy and raw.
Faster and faster he moved, and higher and higher she climbed. She heard herself moaning again. She pulled her legs up higher, so that she could wrap them around him.
Then again it hit her, harder this time, but faster. Her body spinning out of control as she waited for the spasms to pass. He moaned loudly, then collapsed on top of her while his hot seed poured inside.
They lay silently for a moment, him still inside her, her legs still wrapped around him.
He tilted his head so that his chin rested on her chest. She couldn’t see him, but imagined he was giving her that smile of his that made her knees wobble and her mouth go dry.
“I’m going to enjoy being married to you,” he said.