Chapter Thirty
John cupped her perfectly shaped breast in his hand and took a nipple in his mouth. Sibella gave a mew of approval. Her obvious pleasure set him on fire, and his balls tightened. He gave equal attention to the other breast, then as she wriggled and gasped, kissed his way down over the soft skin of her belly to the vee shape of dark hair at the juncture of her thighs.
Her thighs tensed beneath his hands. “Oh, John, no!” she protested. With a ragged breath, she seized fistfuls of his hair.
Ignoring her protestations, he swirled his tongue over her sensitive button, until he got the reaction he sought. She wriggled, fought him, shivered, and with a moan of surrender, pulled him to her. He slipped a finger inside her while gently thumbing the hard pearl of flesh, the center of a woman’s pleasure. She drew in a sobbing breath and thrust up her hips as the climax took her. “Oh, how lovely,” she whispered.
“Yes.” It was pure heaven to watch her.
She was wet and ready for him, and he would go mad if he couldn’t enter her soon. But he had never deflowered a virgin and discovered he was nervous. He wasn’t small, and she was so slender. What if he hurt her? It would have to be quick this time. And, perhaps in a day or two…
*
A pulse beat a tattoo at the base of his throat. That she could have such an effect on him quite robbed her of breath. She gave herself up to him. She was his, in her heart, mind, and body, and longed to please him. “I want you inside me,” she whispered. She buried her face against his neck, flushed by her boldness.
“My love, I want that, too.”
“I am not made of delicate china, John.”
He grinned and cupped her breasts. “Strange that I’m not thinking of Wedgewood right now.” He pushed her legs apart and settled between her thighs. “It might be uncomfortable at first.”
“My sisters told me to expect it,” she said with an anxious swallow. “But only at first.”
“Yes, only at first.”
Her breath hitched when his erection nudged her entrance, warm, hard, and insistent. She grasped his shoulders as he eased his way inside her with a deep groan of ecstasy.
A flash of pain made her gasp. She was tight and uncomfortable as he stretched her, and she couldn’t hold back the small mew of protest that escaped her lips.
It was enough to make him pause. “Shall I go on?”
“Yes.” She hugged him closer. There was no stopping now. He wanted her. Even if it hurt dreadfully, she wasn’t about to fail them both.
He pushed deep inside her and withdrew, continuing with rhythmic thrusts. The discomfort began to ease. She loved that they were together, perfectly connected. The pleasure increased, erotically charged, amazing sensations raced through her. “Ooh, John.”
“Yes.” He breathed the words. She pressed her lips to the cords of strain in his neck. He grasped her bottom, and his thrusts grew harder, going deeper, his gaze sliding somewhere away from her, his breath ragged. The raw urgency of his passion and the friction of his body, moving deeply within hers, overwhelmed her. Completed her. The room filled with the slap of their bodies coming together and their rasping breaths.
John groaned, and a burst of heat warmed her deep inside. He lay panting for a moment before easing himself off her. “I hope you’re not hurting, sweetheart.”
There had been very little pain. Utterly content, she shook her head and curled into the curve of his body with her eyes closed as sleep hovered close. She was quite taken with the fact that she was now truly a woman. That she was possessed with a womanly power which made John moan. It opened up all sorts of fascinating avenues of exploration. “How often does one make love?”
With a deep chuckle, he dragged the covers up over them, tucking them around her shoulders. “As often as possible and as soon as your body recovers.”
“I’m quite all right, really, just a little sleepy.”
He leaned over, ran a gentle finger down her cheek, and pressed a feather-light kiss on her lips. “Sleep then, darling.”
“Mmm. I love you, John.”
Almost asleep, a sudden thought brought her awake. She propped her head up with her elbow. “We arrive at Linden Hall the day after tomorrow?”
“Yes.” He opened his heavy-lidded gray eyes, so sensual she drew breath.
“Do you have a good staff at Linden Hall?”
“I do.”
“I’m glad.” She laid her head on the pillow. Another quiet moment passed as she listened to his even breathing. They would always share a bed, no separate bedchambers for them. “Are any rooms in need of renovation?”
“I’m sure you’ll discover them. Sibella, will you go to sleep? We have a full day of travel ahead. We can discuss this in the carriage.”
“I’ve always wanted a bedchamber papered in cerise moiré. Do you think you could bear it?”
He shut his eyes. “I suspect I may have to.”
Her lips curved in a smile and suddenly sleep deserted her. This gorgeous man lay beside her and she wasn’t done touching him. She leaned over him and traced the bump on the bridge of his nose. “How did you get this?”
He raised dusky lashes to reveal a gleam in his eyes. “A disagreement.”
“Pooh. What sort of explanation is that? And the scar on your thigh?” She lifted the blankets.
He gave a gasp of exasperation and pulled her atop him. She lay there, skin-to-skin, looking at him in surprise. “What?” His erection nudged her belly, and she smiled into his eyes.