Claiming His Wife (32 page)

He wanted every inch of her to feel
him, to submit to him.  

"Mine," he growled, feeling the
tingling in the base of his spine that signaled his own oncoming
orgasm.  She was his, all his, and no other man's.
 Ever. 

"YES!" she screamed, as he got even
harder, thicker inside of her. 

Tears were leaking down
her face, which he was sure she was unaware of, her body straining
against his.  Her pussy convulsed and squeezed, and he groaned
her name into her hair as he thrust home one final time and began
to empty himself inside of her.  They rocked together, his
groin grinding against her clit and swollen lips as jet after jet
of thick cream completed her deflowering. 

He continued to rock, his movements
becoming more gentle as she jerked beneath him, whimpering from the
onslaught of overwhelming sensations.  Slowly they came back
to earth together as he kissed the salty tears from her cheeks,
stroking her hair and soothing her... calming her... The
tempestuous currents that had carried her away slowed and eddied,
allowing her to relax her grip on his shoulders.

From the sting, he'd have marks there
tomorrow.  Possibly for several days to come.  The
thought made him grin.  

"Oh!" she whispered, shuddering again
as his softened cock finally fell from its warm haven.  "That
felt so strange."

Snorting, Wesley carefully
rolled off of her, getting up to retrieve a cloth and wet it in the
basin.  When he turned back around, his bride was right where
he'd left her, soft brown curls resting on the pillow, her arms at
her sides, and her legs still spread.  The sight of pink cream
smearing her inner thighs made him feel both guilty that he'd hurt
her when he'd taken her maidenhead and intensely, possessively,
triumphant in a barbaric way.  

She watched with half-lidded eyes, not
the least bit bothered by any kind of modesty, as he carefully
cleaned the mess they had made, sighing a bit with relief as the
cool cloth swept over her heated pussy.  

When Wesley returned to the bed, after
wiping his cock clean as well, he pulled Cynthia to the other side
of the large piece of furniture, away from the lingering dampness
on the sheets.  She snuggled into him immediately, her hand
resting on his chest, making a sound of sleepy contentment.
 

"Well, baggage, what do you think of
sex?" he asked, twining one of her curls about his finger.  It
wasn't the kind of question he'd ever asked a lover, but he was
curious about her answer.  

"It's not going to hurt at the
beginning every time, is it?" she asked, her voice lilting a bit
with sleepiness.

"No, sweetheart," he reassured her,
feeling the smallest pang of remorse.  "It was only this
once."

"Mmm.  Then it was worth
it."

Wesley chuckled at the satisfied way
she said it.  His cock responded as well, but he knew she
needed some rest.  A nap.  They had plenty of time for
more bed play.  Their whole lives in fact.

A year ago he wouldn't have thought it
possible to be this satisfied, thinking about having just one woman
in his bed for the rest of his life.  But he was savagely
determined that she be his, all and only his.  And he would be
hers.

******

"Well, I don't think
they'll be coming back," Eleanor said, highly amused by Wesley's
antics.  His mother looked equally resigned and pleased as her
son carried Cynthia away from the room.  Probably weighing the
social scandal (which wouldn't be all that great, really, as
newlyweds were always granted quite a bit of leeway) against the
possibility of grandbabies sooner rather than
later. 

Speaking of...

"Are you ready to go, my dear?"
 Eleanor's father put his hand down on her mother's shoulder,
taking the Countess' attention away from Grace.  Her mother
looked up and smiled.

"Yes, I think so."

Before Eleanor could speak up, Edwin
was already stepping forward, keeping one hand on the back of her
neck.  It was no longer a teasing touch, but more possessive
than anything else.  As if he couldn't bear not to touch her.
 She rather liked it, even if she didn't want to like anything
about him right now.  He may have stopped teasing her, but
that didn't mean her body's needs had quieted.  

"May Eleanor and I accompany you?
 We'd like some time with you before we depart
tomorrow."

The Countess brightened, beaming at
her son-in-law.  "Yes, that would be lovely."  She turned
her head to look at Grace.  "Would you like to come too,
dear?"

The invitation was made out of social
necessity, although Eleanor didn't mind if Grace was there when she
and Edwin told her parents that she was with child.  But Alex
was suddenly standing beside his wife as well, holding out his hand
to help her stand. 

"Grace and I are staying in tonight,"
he said mildly, his voice ever so polite, but firm as well.
 "We have our own discussions that we need to
have."

Grace bit down on her lip
and shot Eleanor a look as she placed her hand in Alex's and stood.
 Eleanor could only shrug in response.  Even though she
did think that Alex and Grace should talk, she couldn't blame her
friend for wanting to wait until tomorrow.  But there was
nothing Eleanor could do right now. 

"Write to me, as soon as you arrive,"
she said to Grace, accepting Edwin's hand to help her stand.
 He came around from behind the chairs so that he could stand
next to her, his hand on the small of her back.  Again, not
teasing, and yet her body reacted anyway. 

Damn him.  

"I will," Grace promised.  They
kept their voices light, but Eleanor was quite sure that neither of
the men were fooled.  Surprisingly, Alex just smiled at
her.

Then again, perhaps she shouldn't be
surprised when he'd praised her loyal friendship to Grace in the
past.  Still, she hadn't thought he would still be
appreciative when it was his actions she was checking up on.
 That smile reassured her more than anything else could
have.

Eleanor was sure that Grace and Alex
could have a happy marriage like the rest of them, because she was
sure that they were in love with each other.  If only they
could bring themselves to admit it.

"I wonder if Wesley and Cynthia will
come visit when the others do," Edwin said, musing, on their way
out.  "Or if they'll be too ah... busy."

"They had better not be that busy,"
Eleanor said, her hand automatically going to her stomach, where
her and Edwin's child rested.  "I'll want friends
around."

Edwin's dark eyes glowed
as he looked down at her.  Taking her hand in his, he raised
it to his lips.  "Then I'll make sure they’re there,
love."

Frustrated with her husband or not,
Eleanor's heart filed with warmth.

Chapter 13

It was such a lovely day
that Alex chose to dismiss the coachman and walk with Grace back to
their house.  She seemed tense for some reason.  Being
cooped up in a closed carriage with him, even for a short period of
time, probably wouldn't help, he decided. They had made a great
deal of progress in becoming more easy in each other’s company, but
today she’d seemed to take a step back from that.

Indeed, she relaxed the moment he
suggested strolling home.  

The hot air didn't seem to bother her
at all as she turned her face to the sun, basking in its glow.
 Alex couldn't help but smile, remembering the scandalized
high sticklers back at Wesley's wedding brunch, all of them
horrified that he'd carried his bride off while it was still
daylight.  At his and Grace's wedding, he wouldn't have dared
to do such a thing.  They'd waited, very properly, for that
night to consummate.  Although he wished he'd had the balls to
do as Wesley had. 

He wished he had the balls to do it
right now.  It was probably fortunate that he didn't, as Grace
would not thank him for carrying her off down the street.
 They were causing enough talk as it was, just by being in
each other's presence.

"Did you have a good talk with Eleanor
and her mother?" he asked.  He already knew that she had,
she'd been smiling the entire time, but he didn't want to spend the
entire walk in silence.  Perhaps they couldn't discuss the
important issues, but he enjoyed conversing with her, and the more
they did so, the more natural it was becoming again.  Their
conversations had become much less stilted, especially over the
past few days.

"Yes, it was lovely to see Lady
Harrington," Grace said, a sincere smile flitting across her face,
before wariness edged into her expression again.  She peeked
up at him through her lashes, watching him.  

It was something he'd seen a lot from
her, both when he'd first started courting her, and since he'd
demanded a reconciliation.  As if she was watching him,
waiting to see what he would do, and hiding herself from him until
she was sure he wasn't a threat.  Alex was fairly certain the
tactic came from when she lived in her father's
household.

As if making some kind of decision,
her chin lifted a bit.  "She and my mother are very good
friends, you know."

"Yes, I remember," he replied, smiling
as he looked down at her.  Out of the corner of his eye, he
saw a passerby gawking at them.  Possibly because they'd both
been recognized together, or possibly because he'd been recognized
and been seen smiling.  

The smile worked on Grace.
 She seemed to relax and started to tell him about Lady
Harrington's recent charitable activities around Bath, Eleanor and
Edwin's intention to stay at the Manse for the foreseeable future,
and everything else that she'd talked about with them.  Alex
was content to let her talk, occasionally adding his own
observations or thoughts, and just enjoy walking beside his wife
while she actually conversed with him.  They were the very
picture of matrimonial harmony.  He just hoped they could
become more than the picture.

******

By dinnertime, Grace was starting to
feel hunted. 

At first she'd enjoyed Alex's efforts
to spend time with her after the wedding.  They'd walked and
talked, and it had been almost like old times.  He'd listened
quite attentively and never seemed to become bored or annoyed with
her chatter, although she'd focused on the most mundane and trivial
of topics.  She'd been quite careful to avoid any conversation
that could lead to the more serious issues between
them. 

When they'd returned home, she'd
expected him to go to his study, which he had, but he'd joined her
in the library after barely an hour when she'd thought she wouldn't
see him again till dinnertime.  At first it had been
uncomfortable to have him sitting so closely to her, on the same
couch, even if he was concentrating on his own book.  After a
bit, he'd asked what she was reading, and she'd been almost
relieved to tell him about the silly Gothic romance she'd been
pretending to read.

Pretending, because once he'd sat
down, she'd barely been able to concentrate on the book.
 She'd turned pages, but only because she hadn't wanted him to
know how distracted he made her.  With his presence crowding
the couch, his body heat so close to hers, she'd become rather
tense, waiting for whatever he was going to do.  Wondering if
he would try to seduce her again.  Kiss her.  Or even
touch her at all.

When he'd kept to his side of the
couch, the tension had spooled about her unbearably, tightening
with every passing minute.  She'd started to wonder if she
wanted his attention.  If she wanted him to try and seduce
her.  His query about her reading material had allowed her to
put the book down and stop pretending.

Strangely, he seemed almost interested
in the ridiculous plot.  Grace enjoyed her Gothic romances
because of their darkness, their silliness... but she certainly
hadn't expected to witness her husband chuckling at her villainous
description of the Mad Baron and his evil plans.  She'd almost
jumped out of her seat when Alex had laid his arm out on the couch
back behind her, leaning forward to inspect the cover of the book.
 Her heart had leapt up into her throat, fluttering madly, as
he invaded her space.

Heat flushed her cheeks.

It wasn't that her
reaction was new - it certainly wasn't - but it seemed to have
intensified since last night.  When she'd let him, begged him,
to make love to her.  At the wedding and the brunch, they'd
been far enough apart that she could retain her peace of
mind.

Now, alone in their house, it was all
she could think about. 

"I'm feeling a bit warm," she'd said,
hastily getting to her feet.  "I think I'll take a stroll in
the garden."

Alex had studied her face as he stood,
taking the book from her hands and placing it down on the couch.
 "I'll join you."

Once in the garden, she hadn't been
able to think of anything to talk about, so she'd questioned him
more about the estates.  He'd talked to her of them on the
carriage ride to Bath, but she hadn't been quite in the mood to
listen at the time. 

Listening to his
enthusiasm about the estates, she was again reminded of the Alex
that she'd married.  He didn't just tell her about his plans
or what was happening, but also what he hoped to achieve in the
future, what he would like her to look into... the small things
that indicated he saw her as a wife and partner and not just a
figurehead.  Not the way her mother had been part of the
pretty family picture her father had painted, the way he'd expected
Grace and her sisters to become similar pictures.  She
wondered if, once he heard that she and Alex had reconciled, she
might be able to see her mother and sisters again.  They'd all
adhered to his edict of silence when it came to her, which she
didn't blame them for.  Besides, it meant she hadn't had to
listen to pressure or guilt from them about her behavior; equally
it meant that her scandalous behavior hadn't reflected upon her
sisters once they'd begun looking for husbands.  It was well
known she was the black sheep of her family and that they'd cut her
off.