Chapter Eight
Nash tightened the belt on his banyan and ran his fingers through his hair. He’d given his bride enough time. If he waited much longer, he would most likely have absolutely no control when he finally bedded her, since the last few mornings he’d had a very hard time keeping his hands off her.
He opened the door connecting their rooms to find her sitting in front of the mirror. He licked his suddenly dry lips. Her golden-brown hair cascaded over her shoulders to rest halfway down her back in waves. A slight flush rose to her cheeks as she regarded him with her hazel eyes.
Either she was cold or his appearance had already stirred her, since her nipples were prominent against the silky material of her nightgown. Seeing where his eyes had wandered, she wrapped her arms around her breasts, covering the lovely sight.
“No. Don’t do that.” He walked toward her and extended his hand. Looking up at him with a combination of curiosity and determination, she placed her small, delicate hand in his. He drew her to her feet and moved her forward until she was almost flush against him.
“You are a beautiful woman, Arabella.” He ran his fingers through her hair, dragging the locks over her shoulder to rest on her breasts. His palm slid down her arm to her hand, where he entwined their fingers together. Slowly, he bent his head and took her lips in a soft, gentle kiss.
Their first kiss of substance.
She was all honey, lemon, and woman. The scent from her bath and hair drifted over him as he cupped the back of her head and nudged her lips with his tongue. After some hesitation, probably not sure what he wanted, she slowly opened her lips, and he delved in. Now he tasted mint that mingled with her other scents, offering a bouquet of fragrances uniquely Arabella.
He pulled away from her and held her shoulders. “Are you feeling well?”
“Yes.”
“Frightened?”
“No. Should I be?”
“If you trust me not to hurt you, now or ever, it will go much smoother. I want to make this as pleasurable for you as it will be for me.” He scooped her up and carried her to the bed. Laying her down gently, he joined her, resting his head on his left hand as he studied her.
“Do you realize your eyes almost match your hair in color?”
Arabella nodded. “I’ve been told that. I fail to see it myself, however.” She startled and inhaled deeply when his finger began to trace the soft skin on her cheek.
“Relax, Wife. We’ve spent many a night in this bed together.”
“I am not nervous.” She glanced sideways at him. “Perhaps curious.”
For days now he’d ached—literally—to introduce her to the pleasures that awaited them. And truth be told, he was becoming a little frantic himself to take her as a husband takes his wife.
He smiled slowly and bent to capture her lips in another gentle kiss. This time she willingly opened her mouth before he asked. She was a fast learner, his wife. No surprise there. He placed his arm around her waist and pulled her the slight distance between them until her body rested flush against his. He held in a moan at the feeling of her soft breasts pressed against his chest. The warmth and lushness of her body set his heart to thumping.
Her breathing seemed to increase, and she slowly moved her hand up his chest.
“Yes. Touch me.” He nibbled on her earlobe then sucked lightly.
Of course, he’d had his share of courtesans and opera dancers, but making love to the unschooled woman to whom he’d pledged his life was a heady experience. Her innocent touch, her soft breaths, her sweet lips on his chest, all reminded him of the precious gift she gave of her body.
With deft fingers born of undressing many females in his time, he kept her lips busy while he slowly moved his hand up, underneath her gown, until it rested at her waist. He caressed her plump bottom, bringing a slight, but definite, sigh from her lips. “Let’s take this off. You’ll be more comfortable,” he murmured in her ear.
She shifted and allowed him to pull the garment over her head. He tossed the gown away while she covered her breasts again. He took both of her hands in his and removed them, placing them on his shoulders, then bent to take one pouting nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue over the bead, taking light nips that he soothed with his lips.
Her hands moved to tangle her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. “That feels good.”
“Sweetheart,” he murmured against her breast, “it only gets better from here.”
…
Arabella shivered, but not from the cold. Even though her nightgown had been deftly removed by her husband, the warmth of what he was doing with his wicked mouth was slowly raising her temperature. She rubbed her foot alongside his leg, and the coarse hair felt strange against her skin.
With a final lick, Nash released her breast and moved to the other one. Slowly, his hand made its way down her body until it rested on her hip, kneading it gently. Everywhere he touched brought shivers and gooseflesh to her skin. The ministrations to her breasts caused strange, tingling feelings to the area between her legs. Where his hand now rested.
When had he moved it?
She tried not to think about this man, who only a little more than a week ago she’d barely known, touching her so intimately. But oh, how wonderful was his touch!
Thinking he would enjoy her caresses as much as she was enjoying his, she returned her hand to his chest since he seemed to like that when she did it before. The soft hair was in contrast to his sinewy muscles. She skimmed her fingernail over his flat nipple, and he jumped, but smiled as he said against her mouth, “Don’t stop.”
With his fingers, he nudged her thighs, which she took to mean he wanted her to open her legs. “That’s it, honey.” He sucked in a breath. “You’re already wet for me.”
Not sure if that was good or bad, she attempted to close her legs and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
He grinned. “No, sweeting. That’s good. It means your body is preparing yourself for me.”
“Oh. Should I be doing something to prepare you?”
Instead of an answer, he groaned, took her hand, and moved it to his man parts. Goodness it felt strange. Soft and hard. Silky and smooth. She held it like she would her parasol, her hand wrapped around it. Nash placed his hand over hers and moved it up and down. “Yes.” He gritted his teeth. “Just like that.”
This was all very strange. The feelings, the sensations, touching her husband in a very odd place while he did the same, excited her, made her long for something else that she knew would be even more pleasurable. Her suddenly restless legs kept moving, and the need to press the area between her legs against something hard overwhelmed her senses.
Surrounded by Nash’s heat and his scent, everything else receded as she concentrated on him and what he was doing to her. The feel of his barely covered body resting on hers was comforting and exciting at the same time. The silk of his banyan contrasted with his skin. Skin that was not as soft as hers, but coarse, lightly covered with hair.
Her restlessness increased, and all her focus centered on the place between her legs. Heat rose from the spot to travel up her body, washing over her like a warm bath. Nash seemed to understand what she wanted, because he began circling, pushing with his thumb, right where she wanted it the most. “Do you like that, sweeting?”
“Oh yes.” The words came out as a sigh. She opened her eyes to see him staring at her, his lips quirked in a slight smile. His eyes had darkened, and his breathing had increased as much as hers.
He moved his hand so a finger slipped into her opening. He nibbled on her lips, whispered words of encouragement, how much he desired her, how beautiful she was, how he wanted to make her his.
At the same time, he continued his attentions to her breasts, suckling, licking, nipping, then soothing. That, combined with what he was doing with his fingers had her heart pounding and her breaths coming in short pants, as if she were running a race. What was happening to her body? She pressed against his fingers, a slight moan escaping from her dry lips. She reached, searched, eager for something she knew she wanted. Nay, desperately needed.
She ran her fingers through his hair, tugging, needing something to hold onto while all her senses were heightened.
“Relax, sweetheart. Just let go.” He murmured in her ear, his own breathing erratic. He moved farther over her body, his leg between hers as he continued to rub, stroke, and caress. “Does that feel good?”
“Oh yes. Yes. Just like that.” She lost all sense of time and place. And modesty. She opened her legs wider, then shut them to press against his hand.
“Enough.” With a strangled cry, Nash removed her hand from his member. “If you keep that up, I will disgrace myself.”
His words flitted in and out of her mind, while she concentrated on what was happening to her body. She cupped his face in her hand and pulled him in for a searing kiss, this time using her tongue to nudge his lips apart.
His smiling lips.
She had no idea what was happening, what he was doing, where he was bringing her, all she knew was that her body was spiraling out of control. She sensed she was headed toward something wonderful. Nash’s finger pushed into her opening, sending her higher, her heart hammering in her ears. A fine sheen of sweat covered her body, which would have embarrassed her had she presence of mind. Instead, all of her concentration was focused on a spot to which she’d never given more than a passing thought.
She licked Nash’s flat nipple, sending shivers through his body. Salt. Lemons.
Pleased with herself, she licked it again. Then, a tiny flicker started where his fingers worked, and then grew, until she felt as though she were on a ship that was about to ride a gigantic wave. She strained to reach the top, to crest what was out of reach, pushing against his hand. “Yes, harder please.”
She barely got the words out when she came crashing down, flooding the shore. She moaned as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over her, gooseflesh covering her body, until she curled her legs up and turned onto her side, facing Nash who continued to stroke her until her body stilled and she felt as though her bones had melted.
After a few moments, she sighed. “Oh my.”
Nash stood and shrugged out of his banyan. Although she struggled to bring in air, she still noted the perfection that was Nash’s body. She’d seen statues in books and in the museum, but nothing compared to this flesh-and-blood man. His muscles rippled as he moved toward her.
Through lowered eyelids, she took in the part of him with which he intended to enter her body. Had she any energy left, she would have scooted from the bed. He was so large! Instead, she merely whimpered as he climbed back onto the bed. His knee nudged her legs apart, and he settled himself there.
He kissed her deeply, his strong hands holding her head, anchoring her to the bed. His body full on top of hers brought back some of her earlier feelings. Smoothing back the damp curls from her forehead, he kissed her again, this time more gently. He pulled back and stared into her eyes, then moved his mouth to her ear. “Relax. I will try my best not to hurt you, although you might feel a twinge of pain.”
Pain? She remembered Mother mentioning something about pain, but at the time Arabella had thought she’d meant the pain of embarrassment.
That part of him she’d held so snugly nudged at her center. He eased in, but kept her distracted by kissing her jaw, her chin, the soft sensitive skin under her ear. Whispered words tumbled out of him as he moved in farther until he stopped and looked down at her.
“This will only hurt for a minute.”
Before she could ask him anything, he surged forward, and a sharp pain brought a squeal from her lips and tears to her eyes. Nash placed his forehead on hers, his soft, sweet breath coming in gasps. “Are you well?”
As fast as the pain had come, it left just as quickly. “Yes. I think I am.”
“Good.” He bent to kiss her as his hips moved so his shaft slid in and out of her. At first it felt odd, then quite pleasurable. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as the tension from before began to build again.
“I’m sorry, honey, I’ve waited too long, and I’m afraid this will be over rather quickly.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than he stiffened, and with a groan, lowered his head to her neck and pulled her tightly against him, moaning her name softly. After a few moments, he said, “God, I wanted you so bad. I apologize.”
“For what?” She ran her fingers through his hair, the sandalwood smell strong on her fingers.
Nash rolled off her and pulled her against his side. “In time, you will understand.”
“Is it always like this?” She continued to play with his hair. “I mean, will I have those feelings every time we do this?”
He smiled. “You mean when we make love?”
His eyes sparkled, bringing the now-familiar fluttering to her lower parts. Lord, how could he look so pleased, so satisfied with her question? Or perhaps he was pleased and satisfied with their joining. She certainly was.
He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Yes, my love. If we don’t allow angst into our bedchamber, it will always be like this.”
My love? That certainly frightened her.
They lay for a while in each other’s arms as their breathing returned to normal and a chill covered their bodies. Arabella shivered. “Should we not put our clothes back on?”
“’Twill actually be warmer without clothes, as long as we huddle together with the blankets over us.” He reached down and drew up the bedding. “You are just recovering from an illness, so the extra warmth is a good thing.”
Nash ran his fingertips up and down her arm, bringing a sense of peace she hadn’t felt since before the debacle in Ashbourne’s library. This part of marriage was certainly much more interesting and enjoyable than the rest of it had been thus far, since his arrogance did not extend to their bed activities. She turned her head slightly to see Nash staring at her. A bit disconcerted at his attention, she said, “I am concerned about my animals and how they have been faring at Mother’s house while I’ve been sick.”
It troubled her that her illness had taken her away from her furry friends. She’d asked after them a couple of times, but now she had a desire to actually see them.
Nash closed his eyes and shook his head. “Your mother has asked every day when they could be brought from your former home. I believe they will be arriving early tomorrow. I did not want them here while you were sick.” He touched her shoulder and eased her onto her back so she looked directly at him. “Remember they will be housed outside.”
She bristled. The arrogance was back. However, a switch in subjects was required so as not to ruin the relaxed mood. “Should we not discuss our trip to Suffolk?”
“What is it you wish to know?” He continued to stroke her arm, then placed a soft kiss on her head. Was this normal behavior after intimacy? It felt rather nice, actually. Somehow, she had assumed once it was all over, he would merely roll over and go to sleep. She could learn to enjoy this part of it as much as the other.
“When are we leaving would be a good place to start.”
“Perhaps the day after next. I want to be sure you are fully recovered before we travel. That will give you a day to have Sophia prepare.”
“I am fully recovered.”
One arrogant eyebrow. “Will this be another argument?”
She smiled. “Not unless you make it so.”
Choosing to ignore her words, he said, “The trip there will only take one day, unless you are fatigued, then we can stop overnight halfway there. I would like to spend at least three or four days meeting with my steward, staff, and tenants. Perhaps plan for a week. We have social commitments we need to see to here in London.” He leaned back and looked at her when she groaned.
“What?”
“I am not looking forward to a return to Society. I am sure there will be much in the way of remarks, glances, and other unwelcoming things for us to deal with.”
“There will be no problem. We are married now. I am quite sure our situation will be no more interesting than any other so-called scandal.”
“I hope you are right.” The words barely got out around her yawn.
“Now I wish for you to sleep, Wife. You still need more rest than normal.”
A low growl in her throat was her only response to his command. Her thoughts drifted away from trips to Suffolk and appearances at balls and other social events. What they’d just shared had been nothing like she’d ever imagined. Quite exciting. Perhaps they could do it again tomorrow, or would her pompous husband think her a wanton if she suggested such a thing?
She yawned once more, her eyes tearing up. It had been such an eventful couple of weeks. Their betrothal, quick wedding, her illness, and now their joining as true husband and wife. Also, it seemed odd to be lying fully naked next to her new husband in bed. The last thought she had as she drifted off into a restful slumber was she felt quite comfortable. She was not restricted by clothing, her husband’s large body kept her warm, and she began to hope that perhaps this marriage might be as tolerable as the last hour had been pleasurable.