Silk and Scandal (18 page)

“Yes, that’s it,” he whispered. “Give yourself to the pleasure. Take it. It belongs to you.” His hands were everywhere it seemed, until no part of her remained untouched. She felt the sweep of them along her naked back. She felt his grip on her bottom as his fingers teased along the shadowy crease between.

Dark forces and stark sensuality converged as rampant arousal tore through her fragile control. He ruled her utterly as he buried his lips between the valley of her breasts. She shivered. Her breath grew harsh as he caressed her belly and lower.

Shockingly, he sank before her. He drew his lips across her belly and tasted with his tongue and teeth.

“Oh, dear,” she whispered brokenly. “What—”

He parted her limbs and stroked the insides of her thighs with a touch so electrifying she thought she might fly apart.

“You are loveliness personified,” he whispered, his voice rough and seductive. “No, darling. Do not stiffen so. Yes, that’s right. Give of yourself. Take all that I would give you.”

Her resolve to be immune to his charms dissolved at the feel of his warm breath teasing the flesh between her thighs, the place where dark curls weaved a protective web. The place she’d never known could harbor such sensation.

His breath, hot with words of praise, inundated her fragmented senses and like a wanton, she widened her stance. Reveling against the feel of his breath against sensitive tissues that pulsed with need, she whispered his name.

He stroked his tongue over her tormented flesh.

“Nicholas!”

Shame and a yearning for completion warred within for supremacy. A rain of pleasure dampened her. She felt it move like molten gold, lighting her senses, her passion, to fever pitch.

“I’m here,” he said, drawing away slightly. “Let me look. God, you’re delicious.” Gently he stroked one blunt fingertip over the edges of her secret place. He parted her to caress the tiny bundle of nerves that held the key to her every sense of feeling. With one hand, he lifted her leg and placed it upon the highest step, exposing every intimate detail of her body to his gaze.

Eliza felt shame intrude once again, only to dissolve into so much mist at the feel of his lips closing around the sensitive, tender spot at the apex of her sex. Lightly he suckled there, just there, where she was needy and wanting. Waves of pleasure washed over her as he pulled her tighter against the wetness of his mouth, the suckling pressure, and the transforming delight. She cried out at the feel of his mouth, the feel of his hands upon her hips.

“You are nectar, sweet and tantalizing,” he whispered. “You make me hungry. You taste of honey and submission.” He teased her with his fingers making her gasp. “I want to devour you. Make you mine.”

He groaned against her throbbing flesh, making her writhe against the source of her passion. She didn’t want to love him. She didn’t want to need him, but this was all too much and not enough. She was confused, but steeped in profound pleasure as he trailed a finger through the wetness of her body and gently probed her entrance. Delight tore through her as he teased lightly, in and out with his finger all the while suckling her tender flesh. His breath hummed against her, and she cried out in answer.

“Come for me,” he whispered, releasing her sensitive skin. His breath moved hot and restless. He flicked lightly as she mewled against the loss of astounding pleasure. “Feel me taste you, love. You’re like honey. You are sex personified and any man’s dream. Sweet Eliza,” he flicked again, applied just a bit more pressure. “You’re my dream.”

Then he opened his mouth upon her as if to swallow her very soul. His tongue plunged and stroked; he nipped delicately and drew her deep within him.

Shaken, she clutched his long hair as another cry built deep within her chest. Nothing had ever caught her, tormented her as his mouth did. Never had she imagined such deep, satisfying power.

As he stroked and sucked, as he murmured breathless love words, she began her fall under his magical spell. Coiled and tense with anticipation, she felt at last the quickening movement of his mouth mimic the quickening of her body. She felt his hands as he stroked her body, her resolve.

Chest expanding, heaving, a deep wail broke through the sounds of lapping water and absolute quiet. Feeling washed violently over her, and she trembled.

Her voice. Her pleasure.

The sounds echoed from cool tiles and wrapped themselves around her heart. Love for him imploded within her body with the enormity of her release.

In the end, she could only cry out his name.

Rising swiftly, Nicholas lifted her naked and half-wet into his powerful arms. He kissed her lips. “Gather yourself, my sweet. Our night has just begun.”

Chapter Fourteen

The huge bed seemed woven in wonder as Nicholas laid Eliza naked upon it.

“Nicholas,” she breathed.

Noting the trembling of her limbs, he was unsure whether she shook from spent passion or worry over what was to come. Feelings of tenderness overtook him. For the first time, he thought of the untold number of women he’d pleased in bed and was thankful for the expertise he’d gained. Then, it was all a game, a means to an end. Tonight was forever. He had to make everything good for her.

Preparing for his sensual assault, he pressed a soft kiss to her trembling lips, bending over her only to rise to the side of the bed seconds later. “A moment,” he begged, unbuttoning the offending trousers and dragging them from his body. When his erection sprang free, he felt her gaze on him. Her body stilled and her eyes widened, making him want to laugh. Such an innocent.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, smoothing his hand down the hard length. He throbbed and ached with need for her, but hid that fact behind a calm demeanor. No need to send his bride running from fear. “I am only flesh, darling. You can hurt me or please me. I only know that I am at your mercy.”

“I cannot help it,” she whispered. “I’m afraid. It will never fit, Nicholas. Never.” Tension radiated from her in waves as she made a vain attempt to shield her body from his eyes. She flung one bare arm over her chest and trailed the other to shield her feminine secrets. Lying there upon his bed, her hair a bright flag against the pillows, she looked a pagan sacrifice.

Her shiver of alarm didn’t escape notice and against his will, a chuckle emerged. “Believe me, sweet wife, it will fit quite well. You must trust me.”

He continued to watch her, letting her become accustomed to his nakedness and after a moment or two, his patience paid him back tenfold. Curiosity quickly outpaced her trepidation as she began an intense study of his body.

Nicholas watched her gaze take in the breadth of his shoulders then catch upon the hair on his chest. She worried her bottom lip, and her delicate nostrils flared with what, he hoped, was desire. His erection could not have been more prominent, but his new wife was a brave soul and continued to look upon him with unabashed intensity. Impossibly, he grew thicker.

“You are the handsomest, most assured-looking man I’ve ever seen,” she said at last. “You make me feel like a child with my silly shyness. I feel crass and stupid and I’m afraid of what you’ll do to me. Everything changes tonight, and I’m so afraid.”

How he loved her!

Possession and affection took up residence in his heart as he joined her on the feather-down mattress. Moving over her, he kneeled between her outspread knees and took the hand lying across her abdomen. The need to reassure her rode him like the sharp edge of a sword.

“I would never hurt you intentionally, but you must know that the first time might cause you pain.”

“Pain?”

Damn her mother for her ineptitude! Nicholas felt the depth of Eliza’s fear and leaned over to kiss her lips. The taste was ambrosia, the feel of her naked body incentive to forge ahead. Steeling himself, he took care to kiss her gently before his resolve began to wither. Eliza Grayson, nay, Eliza Delaford, his duchess, had lips for which to die.

Tasting her was his right and he drew upon it to heighten her awareness of his body. Nibbling here, tasting there, he delved, at last, within the sweetness of her mouth. With infinite care, he let his Tongue move into her sweet depths, at once discovering her hesitancy and her passion. She wanted to let go, but she was afraid.

Tenderness took over as he let instinct guide him. Already she’d felt the sharp edge of passion, and he knew without doubt that, with patience, she would demand even more.

Cupping her face, he gazed into turbulent eyes, as violent as a summer storm. Tears rushed over those glorious eyes, and he felt himself melt deep inside. “Do not be afraid, love,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “I’ll not do anything of which you don’t approve.”

“But, before...” she whispered.

“Did you not want what my mouth did to you?” At her confused look, he smiled. “You need not answer, Eliza. Your cries of completion rocked the world in which we stood. Your cries were beautiful to my ears, and I would hear them again... and again.”

With that, he took her mouth once more, and she made a soft sound as their tongues moved in a dance older than time.

He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her flush against the heat of his body. Her nipples brushed his chest. He caught his breath as passion burned through his senses. Stroking slowly, with infinite care, he touched every bit of exposed skin on her trembling body with every bit of expertise he possessed. The soft sounds she made were like the sweetest of music. She trembled in his arms. Perhaps he trembled as well.

He lavished meticulous attention on her neck, her breasts, and the indentation of her waist. Her hands fluttered restlessly against the bedding until he took a nipple in his mouth. She gasped, plunging her fingers into the length of his hair, holding him close. How he loved touching her, loving her. Releasing the plump morsel of her nipple, he caught her gaze.

“Our courtship was fraught with strangeness,” he mused, gently circling the aureole of her left nipple with the tip of his finger. It tightened in response, making him smile faintly. Wanting more, he licked the rigid bud then blew a warm breath over its surface. Eliza shuddered. She whimpered. “Over this short time, I feel I’ve come to know you, love. From this moment on, your battles will be mine. Your fears will be mine. We are one through this marriage whether you wish it or no.”

Her eyes fluttered open. “Can it be?” she whispered. “Since Lottie died, I have detested men. Loathed them. How is it that I feel such tenderness toward you?” She groaned and closed her eyes as he took her nipple between his teeth to better play there. “I ache for you.”

One by one, Nicholas plucked the pins from her upswept hair. After sending them pinging across the hardwood floor, he sank his fingers within the fragrant mass and spread it around her like a vivid fan. He stroked the silky strands, gazing at his fists full of the bright stuff. She lifted, arched her pale throat, so beautifully displayed that he knew he must kiss her there or die.

He made a dark sound, a sound ripe with knowledge. It broke through the darkness as he raised up to gaze into her passion-filled eyes. “Oh, my sweet darling, you have made a vast mistake in wrapping all men into the same package. Yes, the death of your sister was horrendous, but it was not the act of all men, but of one only. If I could, I would meet Stanhope on the field of honor despite the fact he has none. I would shoot him dead and I would do it for you and your loss. Men like him are naught but insects. Quite crushable beneath one’s boot.” He stroked her fine jaw. “Despite what you wish, I am a man of honor and tonight, I would make you my wife in deed. Take me now, Eliza. Give me what I most desire.”

A low, deep sigh crossed her lips, and her eyes fluttered closed as his mouth descended once again. Like a thief searching for treasure, he plied her mouth with his own. Her beautiful body responded as if made for him, and he touched her everywhere, staking his possession as their Tongues parried. Together they clung, each seeking the touch of the other. Breasts that were full and needy were stroked and teased. He groaned his pleasure, steeped in the pleasure of the moment.

With masterful fingers he plumbed the depths of her desire, stroking between her thighs, teasing, plucking. When she writhed against him, seeking more, ready, he lowered his body over her. His erection, thick and hard, rubbed enticingly where his fingers had been, stroking against her dampness. Eliza cried out.

Slowly whispering words of love, telling her just what he would do to her, Nicholas took himself in hand and teased the tender, sensitive bud at the apex of her sex with the rounded head of his erection. Over and over he stroked, until her wetness coated him thoroughly. Then, with steadfast resolve, he placed himself solidly at the opening of her body and the barrier there. Moving enticingly against her entrance, he took a taught nipple in his mouth and sucked strongly, sweetly. Tonguing the hard morsel, he pushed against the fragile shield.

Beneath him, her body stiffened. “Oh, please no,” she whispered in frantic cadence. “Please, no. Oh, Nicholas.”

“It hurts?”

“Yes. Tight. It is so tight,” she gasped.

“Shh, love, let me ease your way.” Slowly, tenderly, his fingers lightly circled that ultra sensitive spot between her thighs. He felt the dampness there, its swollen state. Using great restraint, reining in his own terrible need, he teased until she moaned her need against his naked chest.

Her fingers clutched at his back even as her breathing increased. Understanding her fears, but unwilling to stall much longer, he withdrew to press himself harmlessly along tissues throbbing with sensation. Her movements to escape suddenly became something quite different.

“Don’t move,” he whispered, but it was too late.

Her hips arched against him and suddenly her eyes flew open.

“Oh, my! Oh, yes!”

“Good?” he queried, desperate now.

In answer, she arched again, humming low in her throat. A sound of pleasure. Thank God!

Gasping at the sensation, feeling his body begin to shake from the force of his need, he moved, lowered himself again, poised at the entrance of her body. The head of his erection throbbed, wet from her response, as he inched inside.

He stiffened above her and, gazing steadily into her eyes, said, “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she whispered, rubbing her swollen sex over the rigid expanse of him. “I want this. I want you.”

Without another word, he tightened his jaw and plunged through the fragile barrier of her maidenhead. He drank her sharp cry of distress and held himself perfectly still as her body pulsed around him. Seeking his own selfish pleasure was uppermost in his mind, but he revolted from the idea, wanting to please her more than he wanted his next breath.

Recognizing the daunting task before him and warmed by the depth of emotion he felt, he kissed the tears from her lids and cheeks. Other women had been mere playthings, while this precious specimen was wholly innocent of physical love. She was his! His to love. His to hold.

Eliza, ravishing creature that she was, belonged to only him, and he fought against a shout of joy as her inner muscles squeezed him beyond belief. Leaning to kiss her, he felt her breath come in small pants against his lips.

“Oh, yes, darling,” he breathed. “Take all of me into you. Move now, my sweet.”

Her first tentative motion shot heat through all his senses. Delving slowly, he paused at the entrance to her womb and reached between their writhing bodies.

Plucking at the small sensitive spot between her thighs, he whispered softly, “Move as I move, sweet one.” Lightly, he touched the tiny morsel again and whispered roughly, “Press this along my length as I parry and retreat. Do you feel how thick I am, how long? Squeeze your muscles against me there. It will heighten the pleasure for both of us.”

She arched her head into the pillow as his lips sank into the flesh of her throat. She tightened her thighs about his waist and moved as he’d instructed. “Nicholas?” she cried, her expression wild and confused as he stared down at her.

“Yes, love.” He plunged again, caressing far within her. Moving a slight increment, he thrust deeper, harder, making her moan and move in response. Again and again he stroked, each time eliciting an agitated sound from the woman in his arms.

Suddenly and without warning, he felt the dam of pleasure break inside her. She stiffened for a moment then simply let go. Satisfaction soared through him, heightening every feeling, every emotion as she shattered in his arms, crying out her pleasure.

Holding himself perfectly still, he felt the ripples of her completion break over him. Suddenly her silence ended, and she cried out with an explosive sound of joy. The sound washed through him, making him crave nothing more than to come explosively within her.

Vowing to catch her in that final tumble, he let himself fall with her. The throbbing demands of his body reached the final pinnacle, and he wanted nothing more than to die and be born again within the beauty of her body. All restraint vanished in the face of his desperation as he began to plunge. Hard and fast. He wanted his seed buried deep within her. He wanted her love and a babe. He wanted it now!

As her inner muscles compressed, he felt the beginnings of a climax clear to his toes. As she gave a final whimper, he plunged into the depth of her sweet body. Crying her name, he roared his release and emptied himself deep within her.

Satisfaction rolled heavily through his body as he sank against her and wondered if she’d felt the same soul-jarring release.

A sobbing woman was not what he expected!

Sated. Yes.

Whimpering and satisfied. Absolutely.

Never this!

“Oh!” She grabbed at him with frantic fingers, tried to push him away. “Oh, Nicholas, what have you done to me?” she sobbed.

Slipping off her, he gathered her into his arms and buried his face in her hair. Fear that he’d hurt her threatened like a red cloud. “What is it? Hush, my dear. Have I hurt you?”

The wobble of her head was his only consolation. He pulled her damp body close and whispered endearments.