The Redemption of Julian Price (13 page)

So that’s what he meant by tasting. She arched into him with a moan of pleasure as he suckled one breast and then the other. His fingers continued to play, and then the heel of his palm joined in, massaging circles over her hidden nub, circles that created the most exquisite sensations. Suddenly, her breath came shorter, in spastic pants, then her body seized and her eyes shut on a long, rapturous shudder.

“What did you just do to me?” she asked.

“I gave you release,” he said.

“Release from my own body?” she asked. “That’s exactly what it felt like. No wonder you said it was impossible to describe.”

“Consider that your first lesson in pleasure. It will be even better when we are joined. There are innumerable ways to experience pleasure together. I hope you will be as eager as I am to explore them all.”

“I told you once that I would want to do so,” she said.

“I remember that conversation very well, Hen. You don’t know how close you came to being ravished on the spot.”

“Is that why you were so eager to leave the lake?”

“Yes,” he said. “I wanted you even then.”

“I didn’t know,” she said softly. “I believed the contrary.”

“And now you know differently.”

“Indeed.” She smiled. “I’m much gratified to know differently.”

As he shifted his body from hers, she became aware of his arousal, stiff and prodding against her belly. “I wish to touch you, Julian.”

“You may touch me however you wish,” he replied, placing her hands on his chest.

“No.” She shook her head. “I meant I wish to touch you in the same way you touched me.”

His brows pulled together. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“Why not?” she asked. “You touched me very intimately. I want to know your body just as you wanted to know mine. Please, Julian,” she pleaded. “I just want you to show me how you like to be touched.”

He eyed her warily. “Have you ever seen a male . . . er . . . appendage . . . before?”

No,” she confessed. “I have not. Why do you ask?”

“Because most virgins prefer their first encounter with a man’s cock to be under cover of darkness.”

“Why is that?” she asked.

“Because it can be intimidating.”

“I’m not
afraid
of it, Julian. I’m really quite curious.”

He exhaled a sigh of defeat and then took her hand in his, guiding it down between them, placing it on the protrusion in his breeches. “This is what a man experiences when he’s aroused.”

“It’s rather large and very hard.” His expression contorted as she ran her hand over it, tracing the rigid shape. “You will put this inside me?” she asked.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Are you satisfied now, Hen?”

“Hardly,” she snorted. “I haven’t even seen it. Please take it out, Julian.”

“No.” He scowled. “I will not take it out.”

“But why not?” she asked in affront. “If you intend to put it inside me, haven’t I a right to see it first?”

“Damn it, Hen!” he moaned. “Your curiosity is going to bloody kill me.” He tore impatiently at the buttons on his falls. Her eyes widened in shock at the first sight of his pillar of manly flesh. Should she take Lady Cheswick’s advice and touch him? Transfixed by its proud purple crown, she reached out tentatively, stroking with her fingertips. It was surprisingly smooth, almost silky in texture, and very warm. It jerked at the contact of her fingers.

Julian shuddered.

Startled, she drew back. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Not wrong exactly,” he said. “It tickled.”

“Tickled? Oh? Then how should I touch it?”

“Not timidly,” he replied. She sucked in a breath as he wrapped her fingers around the hard, hot shaft. Holding his hand over hers, he lightly squeezed and then commenced moving their joined hands up and down. “Like this,” he replied, teeth clenched.

“Are you in pain?”

“No, Hen. It’s just holding back is bloody uncomfortable.”

“Holding what back?”

“The urge to finish what we began,” he bit back, his voice as harsh as his expression.

“You mean you desire release?” she said.

“Yes! Damn it, Henrietta!” he growled, removing her hand from him. “You are pushing this beyond my bounds of restraint. I promised not to debauch you. You’re making that promise very hard to keep.”

“But you gave me release without being inside me,” she reasoned. “Does it not work the same way with a man? Can I not do something for you?”

“There are a number of things you could do for me, Henrietta, but it’s too soon for that. You are uninitiated in these things.”

“You fear putting me off? That I would be shocked or repulsed?”

“Yes.”

“But you said I should not be timid.”

“I did, but it would be far better for us to explore these things in stages. Even if it bloody kills me, we will wait,” he replied with an audible grinding of teeth.

“Is that truly what you want?”

“Yes, Hen. I wish to do the honorable thing by you. I will not allow a cloud of shame or remorse to hover over this union. You deserve no less.”

“I’m disappointed,” she said, “but happy at the same time.”

“I will make you very happy,” he said and raised her hand to his lips. “You have my promise on it.”

***

T
wo nights later, after having repeated their solemn vows at St. Michael’s with Harry and Penelope as witnesses, Julian kept that promise. The servants stood with mouths agape as Julian carried Henrietta over the threshold at Price Hall and straight up the staircase to the master bedchamber, where he kicked the door closed behind them.

“What about the wedding breakfast?” she asked breathlessly. “You have scandalized everyone, Julian.”

“It won’t be the first time,” Julian replied grimly. “Nor will it be the last.”

Her cheeks flamed. “But they must all know why—”

“I don’t care, Hen.” He set her on her feet, spun her around, and began unlacing her gown and stays. “You are now my wife.” His lips brushed the back of her neck, sending a ripple down her spine. “My patience is at an end.”

He turned her around to face him and drew her into his arms for the tenderest of kisses. She entwined her own arms around his neck, melting into him with a sigh. “I’ve dreamed of this moment.”

“I’ll try not to hurt you,” he said, concern clouding his dark eyes. “But there’s no way to avoid it.”

“I know,” she said. “I don’t mind.” Her eyes met his. “I want this. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

“You may not enjoy it the first time,” he said, peeling her gown slowly from her shoulders and kissing each one in turn. “But I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

She stepped out of her gown as it slithered to the floor. Her stays followed. Dressed in only her shift, shoes, and stockings, she reached her hands inside his coat. “I want to undress you too. I want to see what manner of husband I have acquired.”

“You wish to see me naked?” His mouth twitched as he stripped off his coat.

“Yes. You are not the only one with an imagination. Mine has quite run wild these last two days,” she teased.

“That is less than reassuring, Hen. Now I wonder if I can possibly live up to it.”

“I doubt you have much cause for worry given that you will be the first naked man I have ever seen and thus become the standard to which all others will be measured.”

“What others?” he asked with a mock scowl. “Do you now intend to inspect naked men?”

“That’s not how I meant it,” she protested. “I only meant that you are now the model to me, the ideal.”

Calmed by their easy banter, her fingers ceased trembling enough to go to work on his waistcoat buttons. Once open, she slid her hands inside and over his shirt, relishing the heat of his body and the planes of hard muscle covered in soft linen. Teased by the mixed essences of manly musk and ambergris, she drew in a breath. Closing her eyes, she memorized the scent of Julian. It wasn’t enough. Her senses cried out to feel his warm skin. She tugged impatiently at his shirttails, freeing them from his breeches. “Take it off.”

He removed his shirt, revealing to her gaze what she had only imagined, but the amorphous images her mind had conjured were no match for Julian in the flesh. His shoulders were broad, his chest and arms well developed and dusted with dark hair that beckoned to be touched. Her gaze followed the dark line of it that led to his falls. Once more, they revealed his arousal.

“The breeches too,” she said.

His mouth twitched again. “All in good time. First, remove your shift,” he said.

He stepped in to assist, his heated gaze seared her by inches as he took in her nakedness. His breath was warm and sweet on her skin as he dipped his head once more to her neck. “I want to taste you, Henrietta.” She titled her head to allow him full access. “I want to devour you whole, but I’ll begin by slow inches.”

He took her mouth with long, languid kisses. Their mingled moans and synchronous sighs filled the air as he backed her to the bed. Breaking from the dizzying kisses, he sat her on the edge of the mattress and removed one shoe and then the other. He raised one foot to his shoulder, kissing the length of her leg from ankle to knee as he slowly rolled down her stockings. Henrietta shivered with the unfamiliar sensations that created warmth in her belly and moisture between her thighs. Would he touch her
there
again? She hoped so.

Stockings removed, he wordlessly urged her to lie back and nudged her trembling legs apart. She was growing breathless with anticipation, but she didn’t resist. She wanted this fervently. She didn’t care if it hurt or how much. She wanted
him
. But most of all, she didn’t want to disappoint him with miss-ish fears.

This time, both of his hands caressed her thighs. She shut her eyes on a blissful sigh only to have them snap open at a brand new sensation, the light scrape of beard bristle and the feel of his hot, wet tongue approaching—Dear God! What was he doing?

“Julian!” She reached down to grab a handful of his hair. “What are you about?”

“I told you I wanted to taste you, Hen.”

“But . . . but . . . I thought you meant to kiss me.”

“I do. I intend to kiss you very thoroughly.”

“Down
there
?”

“Yes. Down here. Do you recall what I told you in the carriage? If you truly wish to please me, you will allow me to pleasure you.” He nuzzled into her sex and then followed with a long swipe of his tongue. She sucked in a gasp and exhaled it on a long, shuddering breath. “Do you like that, Henrietta?”

“Yes,” she confessed. Shutting her eyes, she gave herself up to his masterful ministrations. Plying knowing lips, a skillful tongue, and seeking fingers, he stroked and tongued her until she writhed with an emptiness that ached to be filled. “Julian,” she called out. “I want . . . I need . . .”

***

J
ulian knew he couldn’t avoid hurting her, but there was a way he could minimize her discomfort. He slid a fingertip inside her passage, gently massaging and stretching her membrane as he applied himself single-mindedly to her pleasure. He added another finger as he continued to lick and kiss her until she begged for release. In that precious moment when she edged toward the brink of ecstasy, he plunged his fingers into her passage, breaching her just as her body climaxed. Moments later, he came over her as she lay panting and dazed, spent from the throes of ecstasy. He kissed her passionately.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why didn’t you take your pleasure with me?”

“Because a virgin almost never attains release with the first penetration. I couldn’t save you from the pain, but I wanted you to find pleasure in the experience.”

“As I desired for you. I wish you to take your pleasure from me, Julian.”

“I can wait,” he said. “Now that you are breached, it will be easier for you to accommodate me.”

“I don’t want you to wait. I want to feel you inside me. I want you to stop the ache.”

“Are you sure, Hen? You really want this now?”

“Yes, I’m sure. It was wonderful, but it feels somehow incomplete.” She reached out to him as her gaze sought his. “Please, make me complete . . .”

Her words spoken with soft and imploring eyes were more than he could take.

Julian took himself in hand, sliding into her wet folds until he was poised at her entrance. He shook with anticipation as he drew back and muffled her cry with his mouth as he thrust into her. Blinding bliss engulfed him in a wave as he sheathed himself in her welcoming warmth. For countless heartbeats, he held himself still, eyes squeezed shut, afraid to move, and almost unable to breathe for fear of breaking the spell that penetrated him to the very marrow of his being. He’d been so cold, so empty, for so very long.  

He finally opened his eyes to gaze into hers. “Did I hurt you?”

She winced. “A little, but I wanted this. I wanted you, Julian.” Her gaze held his as her lips curved into a shy smile. “And now I am yours for the taking. Please. Make me yours completely.”

With their eyes locked, he began moving, slowly, cautiously at first until she pulled him closer, tighter, and began meeting his thrusts with soft sounds of pleasure. Losing himself in her eyes, Julian found not just his release, but the missing pieces of his soul.

“I am yours, Henrietta Price. Yours completely. Body, heart, and soul.”

––––––––

H
ENRIETTA LAY IN HER NIGHT RAIL snug beneath the covers, nose buried in a book, when Julian pounced onto the bed beside her. “It’s barely a sennight into our marriage, Hen. What the devil are you doing in bed with a book?”

“I’m reading it, Julian. It’s a highly engaging story.”

His brows rose. “Is it indeed?”

“Shall I read a few passages to you?”

He exhaled a petulant sound and threw himself onto his back, hands thrust behind his head. “Reading is hardly what I had in mind when I came to bed.”

Henrietta stole a glance at him before licking her finger and turning the page. She then read aloud, “He is now in bed with me the first time. Thrusting up his shirt and my shift, he laid his naked glowing body to mine . . . Oh, insupportable delight! Oh! Superhuman rapture! What pain could stand before a pleasure so transporting? I felt no more the smart of my wounds below; but, curling round him like the tendril of a vine, as if I feared any part of him should be untouched or unpressed by me, I returned his strenuous embraces and kisses with a fervor and gust only known to true love, and which mere lust never rises to.”