Chapter Eight

Seth

The wedding was set to take place at Seth’s brother’s house. Will and Charlotte had offered to let Laura and Seth exchange vows on their terrace under the oak trees. They’d also arranged for a dinner to be served after. In addition to Will, Charlotte and Nick, a few of Will’s workers attended the late afternoon wedding.

Seth waited for her, standing before the minister. Silas, his brother’s foreman, sat nearby, ready to play a tune. The minister nodded to Silas, who tucked his fiddle under his chin and began a delicate melody.

The moment Seth lay eyes on Laura, he felt yet another burst of pride and pleasure. He knew he’d made the right decision in whisking her away. She was his. He might not deserve her, but he’d never let her go, and now he was making it official and legitimate.

She wore an ivory lace gown and a veil. Nick escorted her to Seth’s side, kissed her hand and sat down by Will and Charlotte.

Laura smiled at him and through the veil he saw that she blushed a pretty pink. He took her hands in his. The minister’s voice seemed faraway. He and Laura said their, “I dos”, and Seth lifted the veil to kiss his bride.

People clapped, and Silas played a cheery tune on his fiddle. Seth cupped her face and spoke softly so only she could hear. “I loved you from the very first time I saw you.”

Her eyes shone. “I loved you too.”

He kissed her again, this time more slowly, just as tenderly as a moment before. She looped her arms around his neck and melted in his embrace. Her lips parted when he stroked her with his tongue. Groaning, he held himself back from deepening the kiss. Her sweet submission to him was the stuff of dreams, but he wanted to explore that with her when they were alone.

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss. A moment later, Charlotte drew his bride away.

“I promise not to keep her long, Seth,” his sister-in-law stated.

Nick and Will brought him a bottle of whiskey. The two brothers lifted a glass to the lovely bride and the groom, but referred to the groom in less flattering terms.

“Son of a gun,” Nick muttered. “You didn’t waste any time, did you? I was a mite worried about Laura when I heard you carried her out of the Magnolia.”

Will chuckled. “She seems happy enough.”

Seth searched for her in the group of merry-makers. She helped Charlotte set out the wedding cakes. With that done, she lit candles on the tables, talking and laughing as she worked.

“She didn’t complain too much,” Seth said. “I proposed properly, even though I could have made the argument that we were already married.”

Nick shook his head. “Here I thought I’d catch hell for not only letting her stay in Colter Canyon, but forging your signature.”

Seth eyed his brothers, giving a slow and deliberate smile. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “What forged signature?”

His brothers glanced at each other, but then gave him an answering smile.

“Exactly,” Will said, refilling their glasses. “I’ll drink to that.”

The rest of the evening passed too slowly for Seth’s liking, but he resolved not to hurry his brothers or the rest of the crowd. He’d have Laura to himself soon enough, and for a long time to come. A large dinner had been prepared. They dined and had cake. After the meal Silas picked up his fiddle.

He danced with Laura several times. After each dance, he drew her into the shadows to steal a kiss and tell her how pretty she looked. When the hour grew late and his bride blinked like a sleepy owl, he bid the crowd goodnight. He drove them the short distance to his home on a buckboard decorated with ribbons and cowbells. Despite the racket, Laura dozed off.

After he carried her to his bed, he tended to the horses and wagon.

He returned to find her still fast asleep on the bed. He undressed her.

The buttons on her dress were tiny and numerous, a parade of confounding pearl-colored fastenings. They were near impossible to undo, and the task drew a muttered curse from his lips. Half-asleep, Laura giggled. He growled in response but continued doggedly.

When he managed to undo the final button, he tugged the dress from her and hung it over a chair. Next, he unclasped and rolled down her stockings. He straightened, tossed the stockings aside and admired his sleeping bride.

Her skin was porcelain. Her dark hair contrasted with the milky paleness. Full breasts teased him, and her narrow waist invited his hands. With a frustrated growl he set about finishing his task. Deciding to leave her chemise and pantalets be, if only for his own sanity, he freed the hairpins from her hair.

“Thank you, Seth,” she murmured.

“If my brothers served you whiskey, I might need to give them a piece of my mind.”

She didn’t reply. He lowered the wick and slipped into bed next to her. She nestled in his arms. He burned to make her his, but would wait until she was rested. Steeling himself against his baser needs, he stroked her back and marveled that she lay there in his arms. He hadn’t wooed her or won her. He’d seen an opportunity and snatched it. Despite that, he vowed he’d spend a lifetime courting his stolen bride.

Sometime in the night, she whispered. “Am I dreaming?”

He was instantly wide awake and heard the smile in her voice. She traced her fingers over his chest. Lust burned his veins. In an instant his body was iron.

“Maybe you are dreaming,” he murmured, kissing her hair.

She kissed his neck. His heart soared. Was this really the shy girl who could hardly meet his gaze?

“I’ve never dreamed of a conjugal visit before.”

He chuckled. “Me neither. Make sure none of the other men hear you.”

“Hear me?”

“Begging for me to spank your bottom.”

She gave a gasp of mock outrage and played at trying to push him away. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Not so fast.”

He pushed her back to the mattress and claimed her lips with a hard kiss, growling his dissent. She softened beneath him and softly, shyly, set her hands on his shoulders. Angling his head, he deepened the kiss. She reached for him. Her fingers threaded through his hair and she clung to him with a sweet desperation.

Breaking the kiss, he moved down her neck, scattering kisses. “You were saying something about a conjugal visit?”

She laughed softly. “Anything to comfort my husband.”

He stilled. “Anything?”

“Seth,” she breathed. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”

Her words let loose a torrent of desire. Desire he’d held back by the skin of his teeth. If she wanted him, well, he was more than hers. He slipped her chemise and pantalets from her. When her breath ratcheted up, he soothed her with gentle words, stroking her as she trembled beneath him.

Settling between her silken thighs, he felt her arousal, slick against the head of his cock. He cupped her head, kissing her as he entered her. She drew a sharp breath and he paused, holding himself back with sheer force of will.

“It’s nothing more than a moment,” he whispered.

She nodded, digging her fingers into him. He took that as both invitation and permission and pressed deeper, taking her with short, measured strokes. When he met with her resistance, he clenched his jaw and held her, pushing deeper as she buried her face in his neck.

Beneath him, she shuddered, tightening her hold on him. He murmured words of comfort and lust and love. She responded with her own words of need and yearning and love. She was impossibly tight. Soon, however, they found their cadence. She writhed beneath him and clenched his hips between her thighs.

He growled. If she was going to wrap her legs around him, she would undo his self-control. More than anything, he wanted to make her first time wonderful for her. She skimmed her fingers along his back, running the tips along the bands of muscle. He tried to think of her sassing him, hoping it would cool his savage need, but that didn’t help one bit.

Small, wordless cries fell from her lips. To his amazement, he could feel her pleasure grow. Her body became taut. She arched and cried out his name. He snarled and thrust hard twice more before following her climax with his own release.

He looked down at her, hoping to see her response, but it was too dark to make out anything. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “More than all right.”

He kissed her and rose from the bed. She protested when he tended to her, but he ignored her embarrassment, and soothed her with a few soft words. When he returned to the bed, he lifted her so that she lay, draped over him.

“I’m too heavy,” she murmured. Her voice sounded like she’d been drinking. Slightly slurred. Languid.

He laughed. “You’re half my size.”

She shifted, but he tightened his hold. “No. I want you right here, Laura.”

He waited for her argument, wrapping his arms around her protectively. She was silent. Soon the only sound was her soft breathing as she dozed. He held her close and soon drifted off as well.