Francesca (21 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Francesca
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He was dizzy with the taste of her, the clean, slightly fragrant scent of her skin. He felt her fingers in his hair, on his neck, and shuddered with the simple pleasure her touch gave him. He had known many women in his life, but he had never before experienced the sensations of pure enjoyment now filling him. Her sweet moan left him almost helpless with the voracious need he suddenly had for her.

Releasing the nipple, he let his tongue lick the smooth flesh between her breasts. He was unable to keep his tongue from moving downward, from caressing her smooth torso. Rafaello wondered if a man could die from just the anticipation of wanting a woman. His member was already hard with his need to plunge it deep into her virginity, taking away that girlish obstacle so they might enjoy one another without further impediment. But right now she was stiff with dreaded anticipation. He took the very tip of his tongue and tickled her navel with it.

Francesca giggled in spite of herself.

“Are you ticklish, then?” he asked in what she recognized as a dangerous voice.

“No!” she prevaricated in what she hoped was a sure and certain tone.

“Liar,” he purred in her ear, and his fingertips found her weakness.

“No! No!” Francesca cried, trying to squirm away from him, her helpless laughter filling the room. “Stop! Ohh, stop!” She was breathless with his wicked torture.

Then his mouth was on hers, and they were kissing passionately. His kisses were hungry. She both felt and sensed the need. But for what? Francesca realized she didn’t care. She just wanted him to go on kissing her like this forever.
Carlo
. His name flitted briefly through her mind, but was as quickly gone. Her huntsman had been a girlish fancy. This man now kissing her with such heated kisses so filled with desire was her husband, and Francesca realized she wasn’t at all unhappy about her situation. She kissed him back with equal fervor until they were both breathless.

Francesca caught his hand and kissed it. Her eyes met his once again. “How is it,” she asked him softly, “that you know me better than I know you?”

He smiled. “Someday I will tell you my secret,” he murmured to her, catching at her hand and pressing a kiss upon its palm. Then he pulled her chemise up over her head and off of her. “Now we are both as God fashioned us.”

She hadn’t noticed until this very minute, for he had been hidden as she had been by the coverlet, but he was as naked as the day he was born. “Oh, my!” she said, and he was genuinely amused by her blushes.

“Are my kisses that intoxicating then that you did not notice my state of undress?” he asked her. “It is usual for a newlywed pair to sleep nude,” he told her.

“How would you know that? Have you been wed before? I had not thought so, my lord,” she replied sharply.

“You talk too much, wife,” he replied, and pressing her back amid the pillows, he began to once again kiss her.

Francesca wanted to learn from where he obtained his knowledge of marriage, but his kisses were too delicious. She eagerly returned his tribute kiss for kiss, until she was dizzy. Warm lips. A tongue that played mischievously with her tongue. It was simply too delicious to ignore. She slid her arms about his neck, but he caught her hands, holding them in his own so he might move once again from her lips to her throat and what lay beneath.

His lips paid homage once again to her breasts, but then moved on across her torso, her belly. The warmth of his mouth against her skin was the most exciting thing Francesca could ever remember having experienced. How could a pair of lips engender such wild emotions within her? She wanted to ask him, but he put two fingers across her mouth and murmured, “Shh, my love. Just enjoy the sensations of passion.”

His body was half atop hers. She let her hands smooth down his long back again and again. Finally unable to help herself, she cupped his buttocks in her palms. The flesh was soft yet tight against the pressure of her fingers. He encouraged her, whispering, nibbling at her ear teasingly, licking her nipples until she thought her breasts would explode, they felt so swollen with need. But a need for what?

His thighs pressed against her thighs. His legs were far longer than hers, and well muscled. His belly rubbed hers, and then their two mons pressed one another.

“Ohh!” It was only a small gasp, but he did not address it. If he did she would begin to talk again, to ask questions, to engage him in some sort of discussion. His male member was burning. It throbbed with his patience, but it could be patient no longer. She made a slightly louder sound as he slowly and deliberately rubbed his length against her cleft. He could already feel the heated moisture from her. Whether she realized it or even understood it, his bride was ready to taste deep passion.

He took his length in hand and rubbed hard enough with it so that it pushed between her nether lips. The tip of it found her most sensitive spot and rubbed against it. She made a sound, but he couldn’t tell if it was concern or encouragement. He kept grazing it against her until she shuddered with a small frisson of pleasure. While she reveled in this new sensation he began to enter her body slowly, fighting back his desperate need to plunge deep inside her.

As her first pleasure melted away Francesca was suddenly aware that Rafaello was pushing himself slowly, slowly, into her body. Her first reaction was pure panic. She knew what he was about, but she had never before experienced a man filling her. She stiffened with her nerves, but he spoke softly to her as if she were some wild creature that needed gentling.

“Don’t be afraid, my love. It is time for this, and I will be as gentle as I can, for the first time is not always easy for a virgin. If you will trust me, Francesca, I will try to add to your first pleasure.” He kissed her lips, caressing her beautiful face briefly.

“I . . . I know what must be done,” she told him. “I just . . .”

He kissed her hard to quiet her, but said nothing else.

Francesca felt his length moving a short distance back and forth within her. The motion was actually very exciting, but then suddenly his thrusts were stronger, and deeper. She felt a sudden sharp pain, and he seemed to sheath himself entirely within her. She cried out and tears slipped down her cheeks. He gave her a moment’s respite, but then he began to move very quickly back and forth within her. To her great surprise, for the quick pain had taken away any thought of pleasure, Francesca was suddenly aware once again of a small pleasure that began to fill her, but before she might fully enjoy it, he groaned loudly. His body shook for a brief moment and she actually felt herself being filled with his seed as he released it into her body.

He did not withdraw from her immediately. The wee delight she had been taking was gone and she felt bereft. She was no longer a virgin. She was a woman now. Francesca considered as he lay atop her that she had actually enjoyed his attentions. Would she have felt the same with Carlo? Or would it have been better? Thank God her huntsman had been gentleman enough to leave her intact. Better she not have to make any comparisons.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly after a short time had passed. He rolled from her.

“Sore, but I imagine ’tis expected, my lord,” she answered him.

“I sensed you gaining pleasure,” he said.

“Aye, I was beginning to, but then it faded when you released your seed.”

“I apologize,” he responded, “but taking you for the first time was very exciting for me, my love. I want you to sleep now, and tomorrow we shall enjoy ourselves again not once, but several times, I promise you. One of the advantages of being here alone with you is that there is no one to disturb us or our bed sport. Get some rest now, Francesca.”

Several times
? Francesca had honestly thought now that he had filled her with his seed, they would wait to see if he had gotten her with child. She hadn’t realized a husband would want to sport with his wife so often. She thought that was why a man kept a mistress. Why hadn’t her mother said something? Or Terza? What else didn’t she know that perhaps she should? Still, coupling again with him was not really an unpleasant thought. She had very much enjoyed the little bits of pleasure that she had experienced tonight. She would certainly enjoy more if she might gain it.

But considering her little dalliance with Carlo, did she deserve pleasure from her husband? She had to tell him of the huntsman. Her husband might be jealous and he should be, but he knew her for an honest woman, for he had had her virginity this night. She had not really betrayed him, and there was no need for him to know how deep her feelings for the huntsman had been. She was Rafaello Cesare’s wife and
duchessa
. They both knew she would never betray him or herself.

He awoke her with kisses, his manhood already hard with his lustful longings. Francesca took her husband into her arms eagerly, spreading herself for him, and wincing only slightly when he eagerly thrust himself deep into her with a sigh of delight. The soreness evaporated as he used her. He encouraged her and helped her to her own enjoyment before he took his own this time.

“In time we will learn to take our pleasure together at the same time,” he told her.

“Will it make it even better?” she asked him.

“Aye,” he said with a smile.

“Then I would learn how,” Francesca told him, smiling up into his face. “Teach me, my lord!”

“It is a learned skill, my love, but we shall work together to master it,” he promised her, smiling back.

They spent half the day in bed, enjoying each other. He taught her how to caress him and which touches could bring him pleasure. She gave him the freedom of her body, and thereby learned quickly what pleased her. They finally took the time to feed themselves, eating the second chicken that had been packed for them, along with some bread and cheese. They drank wine and became half-drunk before sleeping. When they awoke it was to make love again and sleep again. It was a rhythm they practiced until well after midnight, when they finally slept soundly.

He awoke to find her up and dressed. “I did not say you could leave our bed,” he complained to her sleepily.

“We must return today, my lord,” Francesca told him. “We have had two nights to ourselves. Your father will surely send someone after us if we do not go back on our own.” She smiled at him. “Besides, we are just about out of food, and we have drunk all the wine. “Get up! When we get back to the castle I shall give you a bath and take one myself. The stink of passion surrounds us both.”

He grinned. “I cannot help it if you are so delicious, Francesca, my wife, that I cannot resist you.”

She laughed. “Get up! And when you are dressed I would speak with you.”

“About what?” he asked, making no move to exit the bed. “Come and give me a morning kiss, my love.”

“No! I can see what you are about, my lord. You will not lure me back into that bed. You may come to me tonight.”

“Come to you? Oh no, my love. We will share the marital bed each night. I do not believe in a happily married couple having separate bedchambers. We are happy. Aren’t we, Francesca?”

“Aye, I believe we are,” she agreed softly. “Come and get up now, Rafaello.”

He wanted to stay where he was. He wanted to lure her back into bed and strip her shirt and pants from her so he might make love to her again, but she was correct. If they remained at the ducal hunting lodge his father would send someone for them. He was, after all, now the duke of Terreno Boscoso. He had a government to manage. Rafaello arose reluctantly, washed lightly in the basin of cold water she brought him, and dressed quickly. Then, going to the table, he sat down to eat the bread and cheese that she had placed there for him.

“I will speak with you while you eat,” she said. “While I was at Alonza’s inn last winter I became fond of one of the huntsmen, a young man named Carlo. I believe he fell in love with me, Rafaello. On our wedding night while you remained drinking in the hall, he somehow gained entry to the castle and came to our bedchamber. I sent him away, of course, though he begged me to go with him.”

“Did you love him?” he asked her, wondering what she would say.

“I think I may have if briefly, but never did I betray our name, my lord. You know I was a virgin when you had me first the other night. I will not see him again.”

“How can you be certain?” he asked her, fascinated that she had confessed to him. He wondered if he should take this opportunity now to tell her that he had actually played the role of Carlo. That he had done it so he might learn to know her better.

“I am certain because I told him not to come back. If he truly loves me he will accede to my wishes, my lord. I have told you the truth of this matter because I would have no secrets between us now that we are truly husband and wife,” Francesca said.

He nodded as if in concord with her. No. He would not tell her of the ruse he had played upon her, even if his intentions were good. Perhaps one day, but not today. Francesca was not apt to see it as he did now that she had confessed her girlish indiscretion to him. Indeed she would feel quite foolish. No. Better to let this lie for the interim. “I trust you,” he told her quietly.

“I shall not discuss this matter ever again,” she said.

“No,” he agreed. “
We
will not speak on it, nor will there be a need to, Francesca.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she answered him.

He finished his small meal, and then they departed the lodge. The two caretakers would come from their own discreet cottage and put everything back to rights. Their horses were well fed and well rested. They had a good half-day’s ride ahead of them.

Once again Rafaello found the narrow path that would lead them from the forest and back to the castle.

They arrived in midafternoon, and went immediately to Lord Titus so he would know they had returned home. The former duke greeted them warmly. One look at his son and Francesca told him they had resolved the difficulties between them. “My children, I see your brief stay at our lodge has done you both well. I am happy to see it. While you were gone, however, I received a rather disturbing letter from the Comte du Barry. You need not be concerned, Francesca, my dear. This is something Rafaello and I must discuss and resolve.”

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