Mad for Love: Even Gods Fall in Love, Book 2 (19 page)

“Sweetheart, if you want to wait, then we will. Does sea travel disturb you?”

“No.”

“You need your rest.” He took her hands and tugged her closer. “Eventually,” he said in an intimate tone that made her shudder.

Then his mouth was on hers. Instead of the softness of his beard, the smoothness of a freshly shaven chin grazed her skin, and then he was kissing her and she was kissing him back. He broke the kiss but didn’t move away, so his lips rested against hers and she could feel him moving against her, like a million tiny kisses. “I love you, Lady Stretton.”

Tears clogged her throat. “You never told me that.”

“I was saving it.” He would have deepened the kiss, but she drew back.

“I love you too, Lord Stretton.”

He smiled, the movement softly seductive. “I’m glad.” But she heard melancholy in his tones.

“What is it?”

He glanced down at her bodice and without haste he began to undress her, unfastening the hooks that held her gown together. “We’re here now. I should tell you that not all my friends will rejoice when they hear the news. Even less when they know that I love you.”

“D’Argento?” she guessed, since the Italian seemed to be Blaize’s closest friend.

“Yes. He is another old one. An Ancient.”

She caught her breath. Gently, he eased her away far enough to slide her sleeves down, helping her to remove the gown. “I’m surrounded by them.”

“It will get worse. We’re looking for the ones that were lost, and we’re learning things about ourselves. But I’ll keep you away from all that if you want. We’ll go and live somewhere quiet, as Julian—Jupiter—has done.”

“Blaize, what is it?”

There came that wry smile. “I’m prevaricating, aren’t I? I’ve not been this anxious for years. Not for a very long time. My love, we are here, and that’s all that matters at the moment. We’ll be at sea for at least two days. Let me love you.”

So seductive—she could do nothing else. Perhaps he’d tell her one day, but he was right. This was their wedding day. Perhaps if she kept saying it, she’d believe it. “Only if you let me love you in return.” She pushed his coat down and he let it fall.

No haste now; they undressed each other and themselves slowly, gently removing the garments and laying them on the same chair. Seeing her garments lying with his, Aurelia found the intimacy almost unbearable.

She felt no shame, no shyness, which was strange because she’d never allowed any other man to see her naked before. He’d seen her, tasted her even, but nothing felt as intimate as this, when he perused her with a possessive intensity that made her shudder, even though he was touching her.

Then he
was
touching her, but only to take her hand and lead her to the bed. He drew back the sheets and helped her in with every courtesy and she had the chance to examine him before he joined her.

She’d already noted his powerful upper body, but his lower was no less breathtaking. Strong thighs framed an erection she could only describe as magnificent. Even though she had nothing to compare it with, she knew it was impressive. After all, wouldn’t Bacchus have the phallus to compare to the ones his worshippers used to carry?

“What are you thinking?”

“That I’m going to make love with the lord of the phallus.”

He laughed, and it made his penis bob. It looked endearing, although she shouldn’t think so. She was so uncertain the lack of knowledge enraged her. But this man would hide nothing from her. What she asked, he’d tell her. Was that the man or the god? Did it matter? He was both. “You’re making love with
me
. Your husband, in case you’d forgotten. And I’m going to make love with the woman of my dreams.”

He climbed into bed then and left the sheets where they were. It was warm enough here. When he reached for her, she went gladly and joined her lips to his in a kiss that scorched her down to her bones. He touched her, smoothed his hands up her body from hips to breast and back again, in a sweep of possession. She gave to him with the greatest pleasure imaginable.

Opening his mouth over hers, he took her deeper. His taste, his skin—everything about him enthralled her. He had hair on his chest, lying in smooth whorls that emphasized his masculinity. Dark and soft, silky when she ventured to flatten her hands against it, her palms sensing every change in texture. When she skimmed his nipples, they peaked, and he groaned into her mouth. He kissed her again, cupped her cheek and scattered kisses over her cheek and down her throat. She thrilled to the knowledge that he wouldn’t stop this time.

And he loved her. He’d said so.

His lips on her skin felt like soft caresses, and his hands cupping her breasts slowly massaged them into a state of sensitivity she’d never known before. Her nipples peaked, as his had done, and he passed his thumbs over them, then rolled them between his fingers, bringing her higher. He kissed her navel, licked it and moved down, farther.

Although he’d tasted her before, it wasn’t like this. Not with her naked legs draped over his shoulders, opening her so wide she couldn’t have hidden anything if she’d wanted to. Not that she did want to. He licked with a lavish enjoyment, making “mmm” noises that made her squirm. Either that or the shivers snaking up her spine, spreading out to her fingertips, had done the trick.

She clutched the sheet. “Blaize!”

“Sweetheart, you taste so good,” he moaned. His breath heated her sensitive flesh and he moved a hand, touched the bud at the apex of her legs.

“Ah!” She’d have jolted away from him had it not been for his steadying hand on her stomach. Gently, he stopped her moving out of his reach and then set to work again.

He licked and lapped, and then took it into his mouth and sucked.

Then, despite his restraining hand, she did move. Moaning, she tried to get away from that teasing mouth and tongue and then she sighed, when shards of heat spread through her. Now she arched up into his mouth as he stroked, caressed, sucked harder. And he set his fingers to work, stroked down the centre and breached her, softly, barely, until she screamed his name.

Then she stopped, ashamed. People would hear.

“No,” he said, coming back up the bed to lie over her. “Cry and scream and call out. I want everyone to know I’m making you mine. I love you, Aurelia.” When he kissed her, she tasted herself on him.

“I want to do it to you.”

“Later. We’ll have time, my love.”

And he took his cock in his hand and entered her.

Of course it didn’t happen as easily as that. He told her to open her legs wide and lift her knees. Watching his dear face, she did as he instructed. He’d already entered her with one finger, so she’d assumed that had taken her virginity, but it appeared not. True, his member was large, but she was small, he said.

“Hold on to me, sweetness.”

She clung to his back and felt his muscles shift under her palms. He pushed, gently at first, and watched her closely. “This could hurt, but only the once.” Pausing, his cock resting against her opening, he eased himself up on one elbow and gazed at her face. “I can do this an easier way. Take your virginity with my fingers, gradually. It will cause you no pain. But I have a primitive desire to do it like this.”

“Yes,” she said. “Like this.”

So he thrust again, and she winced, but forced herself to relax.

“Breathe, Aurelia. Deeply, in, out, in, out—” One swift, hard flex of his hips and he was inside her.

Pain shot through her, but it receded quickly, leaving a sense of completion behind. He was there, her lover, her husband, where he was always meant to be. He smiled down at her. “Better?”

Unable to speak yet, she nodded, and he moved. Just a little, an experimental nudge, but— “Oh, that feels wonderful!”

“It does?” He eased into her, all the way inside.

She clutched his marvellously powerful forearms. His muscles bulged as he moved. He pulled out, and she wondered if that was all, but then returned, and when he did he nudged something, a place inside her that responded with extra thrills of sensation. “Goodness!”

“No, Blaize,” he said. “Use my name, please, Aurelia. I want to hear it on your lips as I take you for the first time.”

If she imagined she couldn’t love him any more, those last words proved her wrong, and she did as he bade her and made free use of his name as he thrust in and out of her. Instinct drove her to hug his flanks with her thighs, increasing the concentration of his movements.

All the time he watched her, his grey eyes dark with passion, the sinews in his neck taut. Once he changed the angle of his entry, murmured, “Better?” and at her nod, continued to work her like that, harder, deeper, every stroke bringing her closer to the place that was just out of her grasp, but slid inexorably close every time his body met hers. Their bodies slapped together, and Aurelia wondered if such a sound should make her embarrassed. It didn’t—it only added to her pleasure.

“You will come, my darling, before I even think about it.”

Come? What did he mean?

Then she knew. Wailing his name and her love, she wound her limbs around him to steady herself as something inside her peaked and pushed her to that place that was no longer out of reach. Her passage clenched, gripping his cock tightly. He made a sound, half laugh, half strangled moan, before he too erupted, his shaft throbbing in hard pulses as he released his essence into her.

She watched him as he showed her everything, not attempting to hide the look of utter joy that spread over his face when he came. The only time he’d closed his eyes. He opened them again, gazing at her, his expression hiding nothing. Happiness, trust and love, no doubt reflected from her own features.

Still smiling, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them to the side, where he nestled her against him. “Thank God we don’t have to share a cabin with Lyndhurst. I couldn’t have kept my hands off you much longer.”

“If I’d known…” She was still breathless, the pulse in her throat throbbing, preventing her from talking properly.

“Now that you do, do you think it’s worth marrying for?”

She placed her hand on his chest in a possessive gesture, her ring gleaming in the light streaming through the portholes. “It’s worth anything.”

He kissed her, his lips trembling against hers until she took the initiative and thrust her tongue into his mouth. He played with it, gave her his own, and they lost themselves in bliss.

Aurelia had never slept so well before in her life, but then, she hadn’t spent a night in Blaize’s arms. Neither had she been woken up by someone kissing her breasts, then her quim. Blaize told her, matter-of-factly, that he’d learned a trick or two in his time before diving in for second helpings, and assisting her to achieve that peak he’d introduced her to before. But he didn’t enter her until she assured him she wasn’t too sore.

“Even I can’t prevent that hurt,” he told her. “And I’m the god of priapic magnificence.”

He thrust inside her while she was still laughing, which seemed the perfect way to do it, since he didn’t hurt her one bit after that. Instead of that pistoning movement she’d found so enjoyable the day before, he plunged deeply inside her and then rotated his hips, exciting her nearly to her peak, which she had learned should be properly termed an orgasm, then he moved just enough to push her up once more.

She wouldn’t have eaten except that unknown servants brought the food to their door, knocked and left, and then Blaize fed her with his own hands, offering her plates of delicious morsels and encouraging her to take enough sustenance to give them the energy for one more time before they arrived in London.

The yacht was swift but smooth. Either that, or the rocking that occurred in their bed counteracted any that happened outside it. Although she would have been happy to make love with Blaize on a coal barge, she had to admit that the luxurious surroundings added to her pleasure, and certainly her comfort. After that second time, Blaize insisted that she rest, and they engaged in a few more inventive practices, rather than with him coming inside her again.

“You will heal,” he said, “and then I’ll be on you day and night, if you don’t stop me.” But said with a wicked grin that implied she’d be more than ready to let him. Which was the honest truth.

She learned something else too. When she ventured to suggest that the exercise might produce another result in nine months or so, he confessed to her that it might not be the case. “One of our less well-trumpeted experiences is to prevent the siring of children unless we wish it. I would love you to have my child, and we will do it, but I would prefer to keep you wholly to myself for a while. Unless you have a burning desire to produce an heir this minute.”

The notion enchanted her. “You mean we can do this as often as we like with no consequences?”

“Exactly. It’s hard to describe, but it’s the way we set our minds to it. Otherwise the previous incarnations of Jupiter would have left children all over the place with dozens of women. Since they would have the potential of becoming demigods, that might prove difficult.” He gave her a grin and a self-deprecating shrug. “He didn’t do badly, but not every encounter resulted in a child. It does mean that we are less likely to have paternity accusations levelled at us.”

“But I would like children, Blaize.” The thought of holding a child they had made between them thrilled her, even if the process of production daunted her spirits a little.

“Now?”

Since his eyes gleamed with intent, she had to laugh, but she shook her head. “Soon. Next year, perhaps?”

He nodded. “When matters are more settled.”

He didn’t have to say what matters he meant—when her mother was defeated.

Aurelia had pinned her star in no uncertain manner to the Olympian mast. She wanted no truck with people who desired to direct her every thought and action, however benevolent they claimed they were being. Blaize told her that the gods had made as much of a mess of ruling their people as other people did, something she already knew, if the classics were to be taken as literal and not elaborate metaphors, as some modern philosophers would have it.