Love Everlasting (6 page)

“Don’t be afraid of me, Julianna. I’ll make
this as easy for you as I can,” he said. “I promise, I won’t hurt
you in any way. But you know this must be done; our marriage must
be consummated tonight.”

“I know.” She could barely force the words
past her numb lips.

“And you’ve done this often enough. The act
is not new to you.”

“No, of course not.”

“Then don’t fight me. Let me pleasure
you.”

“Pleasure?” The single word came out as a
gasped whisper, a protest against what his quiet, soothing voice
was suggesting. Anger surged through her, the violent emotion
unlocking the outrage she’d been longing to fling in his face ever
since she had realized there was no way out of this travesty of a
marriage. “You do astonish me, my lord, to associate pleasure with
what you are about to do to me. Your greatest desire was achieved
earlier today at the signing of our marriage contract, when you
took formal possession of my lands. You may derive some momentary
release from possessing my body. I assure you, I will feel nothing
but humiliation and pain.”

She expected him to slap her in response to
her challenging words, and then procede immediately to what he had
rightly warned her must be done to make their marriage fully legal.
Instead, he drew back a little and sat gazing at her as if he
wanted to penetrate all of her secrets. She couldn’t allow that, so
she looked away.

“Julianna.” He didn’t sound angry. Two
fingers caught her chin in a firm grip, turning her face back so
she was forced to look at him - unless she closed her eyes, which
would be cowardly, so she stared at him as fiercely as she
could.

“I do like your stubborn chin,” he murmured,
rubbing it gently. “Some say you are arrogant.”

“I am,” she declared.

“Perhaps you are, a little. Most noblewomen
are at least a bit arrogant. I see something else in you.”

“What?” She had to know if he had uncovered
any of her secrets. “What do you see in me, my lord?”

“Fear. Sadness. And loneliness.”

“What do you know of any of those emotions?”
She sounded as sullen as a spoiled child, but she needed to divert
him from any discussion of why she was so afraid. She should have
been more careful to hide her feelings, should have known that a
man who dealt with spies would recognize the faintest sign of
fear.

“I know more than you suppose,” he said,
looking at her with frightening intensity. “You intrigue me, my
lady. Mysteries always do.” The fingers holding her chin released
their grip to skim downward across her throat to her breast, where
his hand settled, pressing firmly.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
She held herself very still, unwilling to give in to the warm
sensation his touch on her bare skin was evoking.

“I thought we swore to be honest with each
other. Was that only yesterday?” His finely chiseled lips curved
upward in a small and surprisingly beguiling smile.

“Please,” she whispered, “just do what you
must do to me, and be done with it. I am weary after this dreadful
day. I would like to sleep.”

Royce sat unmoving, though his hand remained
at her breast, a warm weight holding her in place, so she couldn’t
flee.

“Is that what your previous husbands did?” He
sounded as if he already knew the answer.

“Please, my lord,” she whispered, looking
anywhere but into his eyes. It seemed she was a coward, after
all.

“Answer me.”

No one could possibly deny the compelling
power of that quiet demand. Certainly, Julianna could not.

“They did to me what men always do to women,”
she said angrily, lying because she dared not tell him the truth.
“I knew better than to disparage either husband by talking about
how unpleasant it always was, but I listened to other women
gossiping and I quickly learned that all men are hasty and greedy
where women are concerned. Armand of Dol and Deane of Craydon were
no different from any other men. Nor, I suppose, will you prove any
different. And since the woman must always bear a great deal of
discomfort, I wish we could have this unpleasantness of
consummation over with as soon as possible.”

Hasty. Greedy. Unpleasant. So that was it,
Royce thought. Julianna had been badly used by both husbands and as
a result she had learned to dislike the marital act. Well, that was
a problem easily remedied with knowledge and patience.

“Very well, then,” he said. “We will procede
with no further delay. But I must ask your indulgence.”

“Oh?” She glanced upward quickly, met his
eyes for an instant, then looked away again. “What do you require
of me, my lord?”

God’s Holy Teeth! What had those two elderly
dolts subjected her to, that she was so afraid?

“First,” he said, “I beg your patience. I am,
perhaps, not quite so hasty as other men.”

“What do you mean?” She scooted away from him
until she was sitting against the pillows that were piled at the
head of the bed. “How long will you require, my lord? An hour? Two
hours? Or more?”

Sweet saints, she thought he was going to
subject her to an interminable period of torture. Judging by her
tense posture and the worry in her eyes, she wasn’t likely to
believe him if he tried to convince her of his intention to teach
her the joys of sensual pleasure. She had already voiced her
scornful opinion of the bizarre notion that any pleasure could be
found in a man’s arms. He’d have to show her, slowly and tenderly,
by his actions.

The problem was, the peculiar and fascinating
quirks of Julianna’s mind, combined with the sight of her lovely
bare breasts and the silken length of her honey-colored hair were
having a strong effect on him. He hadn’t been so eager for a woman
in years. He hadn’t actually had a woman for several months. He
never indulged himself at Wortham. That sort of thing was, as
Cadwallon had so wisely noted, bad for discipline. Since leaving
Wortham, he had restrained himself. Knowing he was to be married
quickly and fearing he’d find the lady unappetizing, he had thought
it better to wait, so he’d have months of accumulated male need to
spur him to perform his marital duty.

He hadn’t expected his new wife to leave him
nearly dizzy with desire for her. He was painfully hard; he
couldn’t recall the last time his manly parts had ached so badly
and he was very glad he had kept his bedrobe draped around his
loins. He didn’t want to alarm her.

“My lord?” Julianna was looking at him as if
she wasn’t sure how to deal with a man who professed to be slower
in bed than the other men she had known. “Sir, are you afflicted
with some grave masculine insufficiency? Is that what you are
trying to say?”

“Insufficiency?” he repeated, wondering
exactly what kind of disease she meant. He watched her lick her
lips as if they were parched. Following the movement of her pink
tongue and imagining how she could employ it to his intense
delight, he needed all of his strength of will not to throw himself
upon her. She swallowed hard, cleared her throat, and spoke
again.

“Would you think me shamefully disloyal if I
told you that Lord Armand suffered from the same problem? He showed
me several ways to - er - to enlarge and stiffen what he called his
manly rod.”

So, her first husband had been impotent. By
the expression on her face and the distasteful twisting of her
lips, she hadn’t enjoyed the process of enlarging and stiffening
Lord Armand. Royce, who needed no help at all in that area, tried
not to laugh at her seriousness. Then it occurred to him that, if
her first marriage hadn’t been consummated, it hadn’t been
legal.

“Did your assistance help?” he asked
politely.

“Occasionally. A little. Lord Armand said it
was enough. If you wish, my lord, I will try the same methods on
you.”

“Some other time, perhaps.” The thought of
Julianna trying to stiffen and enlarge him was enough to drive him
close to madness. “I do thank you for the offer, though.”

He moved nearer to where she was sitting at
the head of the bed and placed a hand on either side of her hips,
effectively trapping her between his arms. The movement dislodged
his bedrobe. He paid no heed. Julianna watched him warily as he
bent forward to kiss her.

Her mouth was soft and warm, but
unresponsive. Royce deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue against
her lips until she opened to him. Kneeling on the mattress,
straddling her thighs, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled
her closer, lifting her off the pillows. She did not resist. After
a long moment of hesitation she slid her hands up onto his
shoulders, and then slowly around his neck. Her fingers worked
themselves into his thick, red-gold hair and the sensation of her
fingertips rubbing on his scalp was so delightful that he continued
the kiss for a long, long time.

When he finally released her mouth, she hung
in his arms, her lips soft and parted, her eyes still closed.

“Oh, that was nice,” she murmured, obviously
surprised.

“Good.” He dipped his head to the curve of
her throat, to taste her slightly salty skin, and to smell again
the tangy perfume she wore. She didn’t drench herself in fragrance
the way some women did instead of bathing. Julianna was clean, a
fact that pleased Royce enormously, and he had to be close to her
to smell the scent she used. He intended to ask her what it was.
But later. Some other time, when he wasn’t quite so preoccupied in
testing just how perfectly her breasts fit into his palms, or how
readily she responded when he kissed one, and then the other.

She seemed to be fascinated by the curly hair
on his chest. First she ran her fingers through it, then she moved
her hands around to his back to pull him closer so she could thrust
her breasts against the hair and rub herself on his chest.

“Oh, yes,” she whispered. Her head fell back
and the expression on her face and the soft curve of her lips told
him she was, indeed, capable of feeling pleasure.

Royce wondered briefly if her other husbands
had lacked hair on their chests, or if they had come to bed half
clothed. He dismissed the thought and didn’t ask. He didn’t want
her to recall other men; he wanted her to think only of him.

He eased her slowly down to the mattress and
rested his weight on one elbow, preparing to explore the lovely
curves of her hips and her thighs before he moved on to the
tempting triangle of honey-brown hair, the place where the urgent
fire that flared impatiently in his loins would soon be quenched.
He was more than ready; he was fast becoming desperate.

Telling himself to wait, to take her along
with him on his ecstatic journey, he caressed her soft abdomen and
allowed his hand to trail onward to the side of her thigh. Julianna
sighed and smiled at him.

She glanced downward, following the motion of
his steadily stroking hand. Her smile vanished. Her eyes grew huge.
Royce heard her gulp.

“My lord,” she said in a strangled voice,
“when you said you were afflicted with a masculine ailment, I
thought you meant an insufficiency.”

“I never said I had an ailment,” he began,
but she cut him off with a horrified exclamation.

“You should have warned me that you suffer
from an aberration.”

“What aberration? What are you talking
about?”

“That.” She gestured toward his rigid shaft.
“You are a giant, my lord.”

Royce saw how she set her jaw. He saw her
throat move as she swallowed again. To his confusion, he realized
that she was gathering her courage to endure whatever humiliation
he chose to inflict upon her. When she lifted her worried gaze to
his, the truth burst upon him with all the power of a
revelation.

“I am not going to harm you,” he said.
“You’ve had two elderly husbands, one of whom was apparently
impotent, or close to it. You’ve never seen a fully erect male
organ before, have you?”

“Please, my lord, let me go.”

“I cannot release you. Not now.” He moved
over her, holding her down. “Heaven knows, I didn’t want to rush
you, but I can’t stop.”

While she tried to push him away he
positioned himself between her thighs. He saw the grimace of fear
on her face as he came against her and his heart smote him.

“Julianna, look at me. Look into my eyes and
know that I do not want to hurt you. But I have to do this.” His
words sounded more like an order than the plea he meant them to be,
but Royce had reached the end of his tether. He could feel how warm
her most private place was and he had to be there. Had to be deep
inside her. Immediately. He could wait no longer.

“Yes, my lord.”

She ceased struggling and lay limp and
passive while he began to push himself into her. He felt a pang of
guilt for what he was doing. Was this the way her other husbands
had treated her, commanding her obedience in bed? Duty-bound to
possess her, Royce regarded her with compassion, and with a dawning
admiration that was almost affection.

She’d been right about one thing; he was a
large man and her body was remarkably tight. She flinched as he
entered her. Two old men, he reminded himself; old and feeble, not
as large or firm as they’d been in their youth, and neither one
trying to be kind to her. Not that he was being particularly kind,
but he and Julianna both understood what needed to be done.

He restrained his eagerness, trying as best
he could to advance slowly, for he believed he was beginning to
understand her past experiences. Julianna, wed to one man or
another since she was fourteen, at thirty years of age remained a
near virgin. Her memories of bedding clearly were not happy ones.
But she was not without passion. She had responded to his first
caresses and she had enjoyed his kisses.

“You are in pain, my lord.”

Her pitying gaze was fixed on his face and
Royce knew that he probably did look as if he was in pain. He was
trying so hard to be gentle with her, not to ram himself into her
and seize the release for which all his senses were clamoring.