Loving the Marquess (22 page)

Uncertain now as to his mood, she licked her lips in a
nervous gesture. His eyes moved briefly to her mouth and his jaw tightened.

“I feared you might be unwell.” Though spoken softly, her
words seemed almost too loud in the silence that threatened to engulf them
both.

He merely sat there, unmoving, his intent stare pinning her
where she stood. His gaze swept over her figure and she realized she stood
there only in her nightgown. The one made for her wedding night that was sheer
and showed far more than she was used to displaying. The intimacy of the situation
was almost too much to bear. Nicholas appeared almost angry, and expecting a
curt dismissal, she took a step back.

“If you don’t need my assistance, I will return to my room
now.”

She turned to leave, but Nicholas
wasn’t ready for her to go. Moving swiftly, he rose and crossed the space
separating them to reach around her and close the door before she could escape.
She stood there facing the closed door, but her attention was focused on the
nearness of his body mere inches behind hers. His hand remained on the door,
and now his other hand came up to also press against it, effectively caging
her. She couldn’t move. He surrounded her, the heat of his body reaching out to
envelop her.

She drew in a shaky breath and turned to face him. She was
too close and took a step back, but stopped when her back met the solid wood of
the door. She looked up into Nicholas’s eyes. They were darker than normal,
almost black. And the heat within them… She shivered, but whether from nerves
or anticipation she couldn’t say.

Her breath caught when he lowered his head. In the last
moment, just before his lips met hers, he moved his head to the side and
brought his mouth against her ear. The warmth of his breath there had a strange
effect on her, making her need to be even closer to him.

“Tell me, Louisa, are you here to mother me?”

She shook her head, unable to reply.

“Then why are you here, and dressed only in
that
.”

Her voice shook when she replied. “I… I heard the chair
fall. I wanted to make sure you weren’t ill again.”

He exhaled softly into her ear, causing shivers to riot down
her spine.

“You should have stayed safe in your own bed.”

His voice was low with menace, but she knew in that moment
the last place she wanted to be was alone in her cold bed. She wanted to be
here, with Nicholas. He was mistaken if he thought he was frightening her.
Ignoring the small warning voice in her head that told her she risked being
rejected yet again, she placed her hands on his chest. He grew unnaturally
still. Encouraged, she parted the edges of his dressing gown to reveal he
wasn’t wearing a shirt. She could see the rise and fall of his upper body now.
His breathing had grown as ragged as hers. Fascinated by the sight of him, and
unable to stop now, she pushed the edges farther apart and laid her hands on
his bare chest. He was so different from her, broader, his muscles solid
beneath her touch.

She moved her hands up to his shoulders, then back down, and
he was still under her caress. The dressing gown was fully open now and she saw
that he still wore his trousers. The fact that he hadn’t pushed her away lent
her added courage, and she moved lower to trace the well-defined muscles of his
abdomen. She wondered how far she would have to go before Nicholas either
pushed her away or finally took her to his bed.

Stealing herself for his rebuff, she trailed her hands
lower. When she reached the edge of his trousers, he stopped her by taking hold
of her wrists. He’d pulled back and was staring down at her, his expression
unreadable. She inhaled sharply when she noticed tightness of his jaw and the
sheen of sweat on his brow.

“Are you not well?”

It was a moment before he spoke. “No.”

She licked her lips and noticed, again, that his gaze was
drawn to the small movement.

“Will you allow me to help you? Or would you rather I summon
someone else to care for you?”

He continued to stare at her, his body completely still, and
she began to wonder if he was going to collapse. When he finally spoke, it took
her a moment to realize what he was saying.

“I think this is something only you can help me with.”

He brought her arms up to encircle his neck. Unable to
believe what was happening, she clung to him when he released his hold. A
thrill of anticipation went through her when he cupped her face in his hands.

“I’m not strong enough to send you away again. I need you to
be strong enough for the both of us.”

She shook her head. “Not tonight, Nicholas. Not ever again.”

He groaned and closed his eyes briefly, as though in pain,
before bringing his mouth down on hers. She could taste the alcohol on his
breath, but no longer cared that he’d been drinking. She was intoxicated
herself on the heady knowledge that Nicholas would not be denying her. That
he’d actually admitted wanting her.

He was gentle at first. His thumbs stroked along the line of
her cheeks while his lips sipped from hers. Instead of worrying about her
husband, she now feared her own legs would give way and she would be the one to
collapse. She clung to his neck and pressed herself against him.

His hands left her face and settled on her waist. She sighed
at the delicious feel of his hands caressing her there through the thin fabric
of her nightgown before moving higher.

“Tell me to stop, Louisa,” he said against her mouth.

“No,” she said with a sound of denial. “Please. Don’t stop.”

She found herself pressed against the door, his hands
covering her breasts. He cupped their weight and his thumbs drew maddening
circles around her nipples. She gasped and his tongue surged into her mouth, deepening
their kiss. She made a soft sound of encouragement and pushed herself more
firmly into his hands.

His fingers stilled, then his hands moved up to her
shoulders. He raised his head to look down at her and she could see the dark
desire reflected in his eyes. He took a deep breath, and for a moment she
panicked, certain he was going to push her away again. Instead, his fingers
caught the edges of her nightgown and he began to trail the garment down her
arms. Mesmerized, she could only stare at him as he took in the progress of the
near-transparent material sliding down her body. When it moved past her
breasts, she saw the tic of a muscle along his jaw. She stood unmoving as he
released the material and it fell to the floor with a soft whisper. She was
afraid to move, almost afraid to breathe, lest this moment turn out to be a
cruel dream from which she would soon waken.

He stood still as well, staring down at her. Then, as though
he had finally decided this moment had always been inevitable, he bent and
scooped her up in his arms. Feeling more than a little self-conscious, she
buried her face in his shoulder as he carried her to the bed, acutely aware of
her skin pressed against his bared chest. He lowered her gently onto the bed
and stepped back to stare down at her. Lying before him without a stitch of
clothing, she felt as though she just might expire from embarrassment.

“Nicholas,” she said, a sense of urgency coursing through
her.

He must have known what she wanted. She watched in silence
as he shrugged out of his dressing gown, his movements reflecting her own sense
of urgency. He unbuttoned the fall of his trousers and stepped out them and the
smallclothes he wore, and now it was her turn to stare as he stood naked before
her.

He was everything she was not. Hard where she was soft, dark
where she was light. Her gaze moved quickly over that one part of him where he
was most different, but she did see him and wondered if the consummation of
their marriage was going to be very painful. She refused to dwell on that
thought, however. This was something she had wanted for what seemed like
forever.

He lowered himself onto the bed, his body over hers, but not
yet touching. His head dipped and his mouth covered hers. Relief and desire
sweeping through her, she brought her hands to his shoulders and clung to him,
returning his kiss with an increasing fervor of her own. He closed the space
between their bodies, and she gasped at the feel of his warm skin on hers. His
muscled chest pressed against her breasts and that most intimate part of him
brushed against her thigh. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful.

His mouth left hers and he trailed a line of kisses down her
throat. He continued downward until his lips covered her breast. He drew on her
nipple, and she could feel the pull of his mouth straight down to her core.

One hand covered her breast, and the other began a slow,
agonizing movement up the inside of her thigh. She squirmed below him, the riot
of sensations almost too much to bear.

His mouth moved back to her throat while his hand continued
its inexorable movement. She tensed for a moment, then opened her legs as his
hand reached the juncture of her thighs. Shock froze her when he touched her
there. He parted her with his fingers and started a slow back-and-forth
movement that soon made her forget her embarrassment. He lifted his head to
look down at her as he slid a finger deep inside her.

She wanted to reassure him, to tell him she was fine, but in
truth she wasn’t. She shifted restlessly below him while he continued, first
one, then two fingers moving inside her while his thumb circled a point of
almost-painful sensitivity outside.

She moaned and brought his head back down to kiss him.

“Come for me, Louisa,” he said against her mouth, increasing
the pace of his stroking.

And then everything flew apart for her. She gasped in
surprise, but he caught the sound with his mouth. His hand left her then and
she made a soft sound of disappointment. He clasped her knees and widened her
legs farther so he could settle himself between them.

“I can’t wait,” he said, his voice tight with the strain of
holding back.

She laid a hand on his cheek. “I want this, too.”

His arousal nudged her swollen sex and instinctively she
moved her hips so she could feel him more fully. There was nothing in the world
but Nicholas as he started to push inside her. Her body opened to accept him.
She had forgotten she was supposed to fear her first time with a man, but the
sharp stab of pain reminded her.

She stiffened, her fingers sinking into the muscles of his
upper arms as he seated himself fully within her. Seeing her discomfort, he
stopped.

“I’m sorry,” she said, fearing she’d disappointed him.

“It’s fine, Louisa. Here, let me…”

He brought his hand between them and began, again, to stroke
that sensitive point just above where their bodies were joined. His mouth
captured hers in a heated kiss that made her forget the pain as her blood began
to heat anew.

She made a soft sound of distress when he removed his hand
again and began to pull out of her, afraid that he would stop now out of
concern for her. When he surged back into her, however, she could have wept
with joy. The pain had lessened to a dull ache, and that, too, became a distant
memory as she delighted in the glorious sensation of being filled by him over
and over. She moved with him, matching his thrusts, and he murmured his assent.

“Louisa.” He lifted his head and looked down at her again,
his eyes reflecting the depth of his passion.

The pace of his thrusts quickened, and feeling as though she
were spinning out of control, she wrapped her legs and arms around him. She had
never imagined such pleasure was possible.

This time when she reached her peak, she called out his name
and took him with her.

* * * * *

Louisa woke the next morning with a smile on her face.
Murmuring her husband’s name, she rolled toward him. She frowned when she
realized she was back in her bedroom. It took her a moment before she
remembered waking at one point during the night to find herself in her husband’s
arms as he carried her back to her room. But he hadn’t left her there. He’d
joined her in her bed and, despite the fact she’d felt a little tender, they’d
made love again.

She stood and reached for her dressing gown to cover her,
remembering that her nightgown was still in Nicholas’s room. She crossed to the
door that connected her room to his, briefly wondering if it was a bad sign
that the door was closed. Pushing aside her doubts, she opened the door and
entered his bedroom. She blushed when her gaze caught that of the maid who was
changing the sheets on her husband’s bed. The telltale stain of her blood on
the sheets caught her eye and it was all she could do to hide her
embarrassment. Soon the whole household staff would know that she and Nicholas
had not made love until last night.

“Did Lord Overlea go down to breakfast?”

“No, my lady,” the maid said with a curtsey. “He went out to
the stables.”

She thanked the young woman and went back to her room. She
wondered if Nicholas had decided to go back to ignoring her. If he had, he was
going to have to fight her every step of the way because she would no longer
allow him to push her away.

* * * * *

Nicholas’s head ached from having consumed too much brandy
the night before, but the pain was nothing when compared to what he experienced
during one of his attacks from his illness. He made his way to the stables
where one of the grooms approached immediately, but Nicholas waved him off,
telling him he would saddle Zeus himself. He needed to keep busy. To try not to
think about the horrendous error in judgment he had made the previous night.

He tried to focus on the task at hand. As he brushed the
horse, however, his thoughts drifted to memories of running his hands over
Louisa’s delectable body. He gritted his teeth and firmly pushed the thoughts
away. He made quick work of saddling Zeus and securing his bridle, forcing
himself to concentrate on the task at hand.