Truly a Wife

by Rebecca Hagan Lee

  “Lie back against the pillows,” Miranda suggested.

  Daniel arched an eyebrow in query.

  “And let me kiss you,” she finished, gently pushing him back against the pillows, leaning over to kiss him. “You’re quite good at it already. I need to practice.” She smiled a naughty little smile. “Besides, you’re an injured man. You need your rest.”

  “Practice all you like.” Daniel followed her suggestion and made himself comfortable against the pillows while Miranda leaned over him and experimented with a wide variety of kissing techniques designed to drive him out of his mind.

  Daniel groaned his pleasure against her mouth as Miranda knelt above him. He felt the brush of her bare breasts against his chest and shuddered with the effort it took to keep from rolling her onto her back and burying himself inside her, or to keep from framing her hips with his hands and guiding her down until she settled herself upon his hard length.

  For all her experimentation, she was, as far as he knew, still very much a virgin who deserved tender consideration and gentlemanly restraint.

  But Miranda was pushing him to the limits of his endurance. She nibbled his bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth before slowly releasing it in order to lave it with the tip of her tongue.

  “Miranda.” He breathed her name.

  She cradled his face between her hands. “Do you want me, Daniel?”

  “Very much,” he answered.

  “Then take what you want,” she offered. “But don’t make love to me as the Duke of Sussex. Make love to me as Daniel Sussex. Without holding back. Without restraint.”

  For a moment, he thought she’d read his mind, but Daniel looked into her eyes, recognized the emotion shining in them, and realized Miranda was offering him an incredible gift of herself. He tangled his fingers in her hair, pulled her closer, and kissed her with a passion he hadn’t realized he possessed.

  His desire for her seemed to engulf him until she was all he could see or hear, taste, touch, or smell. The scent of the soap she’d used in the bath enticed him to explore all her tiny nooks and crannies and learn all her secret places. He combed his fingers through her hair, over her shoulders, down her back, along the curve of her spine, to her hips.

  The soft caress of his fingers on her skin sent shivers coursing through her, and Miranda warmed to his touch. When he placed his hands on her hips and guided her toward him, there was no holding back.

  She followed, carefully straddling his lean hips, balking only when he urged her to move up his torso instead of down. “This can’t be right …” Miranda frowned down at him.

  He laughed. “There are no rules, Miranda. No restraint. No holding back. We can do whatever gives us pleasure. And this will give us both great pleasure.”

  She hesitated, still unsure. “If you’re certain …”

  “I’m certain,” he said. “For I’m the man who has wanted to do this with you almost from the day I met you. Trust me.” Moving his hands from her hips, Daniel cupped her bottom and pulled her toward him, up his chest until his hot breath caressed the tight curls at the juncture of her thighs and her bottom rested against the front of his shoulders. He skimmed his hands over her thighs, spreading her legs a bit wider, pressing her forward, tilting her pelvis and adjusting the angle so that he might lie back amongst the pillows—as she’d suggested—and pleasure them both.

  And the first touch of his tongue against that most intimate part of her was electric. It touched every nerve ending in her body and set her pulse to beating so rapidly that Miranda feared she might explode in a fantastic burst of flame. Her body melted against him, seeking release, and Daniel was merciless in providing it.

  Miranda, who had always prided herself on her independent spirit, was astonished to discover that she was more than willing to relinquish her independence and become a willing slave to her desires.

  Daniel bathed the spot where her pulse throbbed with his tongue. He licked the hard little nub hidden beneath her soft folds and felt the effect of it as Miranda began to move against him and his name escaped her lips as a high-pitched keen. “Daniel …”

  Arching her back, Miranda filled the bedroom with incoherent, little sounds—soft sighs, guttural groans, and sharp, high-pitched squeals of pleasure—she made without knowing she did so. She squirmed in his arms, moving steadily closer to the source of her pleasure, and whimpered as Daniel blew his warm breath on her damp curls and ignited little currents of electricity that raced through her body.

  He chuckled deep in his throat, thrilled with Miranda’s response, heady with the powerful sensations swirling around them and with the incredible realization that she enjoyed his touch as much as he enjoyed touching her.

  And his need to touch her, his desire to touch all of her, to taste the sweet hot essence of her, to bury his length inside her warmth and to feel the heat of her surrounding him as he throbbed and pulsed within grew so strong that Daniel knew it was the reason he’d been born. He had been born to capture her lips and swallow her cries as they careened toward the heavens on an intimate journey where two became one. He’d been born to introduce her to the world of passion and desire, where a man and a woman learned to give and to take, to advance and retreat, to pleasure and be pleasured in the dance of life.

  “Daniel,” Miranda gasped his name again as she pressed herself against his incredibly talented mouth. There were no words to describe the shockingly delicious and forbidden sensations she felt as Daniel performed the intimate act, working his magic until she was one big, quivering mass of sensation.

  Daniel’s familiarity with all the secret places on her body should have scandalized her, but Miranda was thrilled by his knowledge, enthralled by his experience, and grateful beyond belief for his genuine desire to give pleasure. She vibrated with passion as Daniel stroked and probed with such infinite tenderness and such agonizing care that she couldn’t think of being scandalized. How could she be shocked and angry at a man who gave her such incredible bliss?

  “Please,” she murmured, squirming as desire—hot and thick and dangerous—surged through her, filling her body with urgent longings she couldn’t name but which all came from the place Daniel graced with his magnificent attention.

  Daniel deepened his caress, consciously applying every lesson he’d ever learned from the women who had shared his bed, as he feverishly worked his magic on Miranda. She was teetering on the edge of the precipice, desperately close to finding satisfaction, and he ached to join her in blissful release, but he ignored the painful throbbing of his member and concentrated on pushing Miranda over the edge.

  Miranda sighed, and then shuddered deeply as her fragile control shattered and she gave herself up to the extraordinary pleasure that rushed through her, satisfying every ache, every longing—except the need for more.

  Gripping the bedpost, she opened her eyes moments later, and looked down at him with an expression of sheer joy on her face.

  Daniel’s heart seemed to catch in his throat, and he was humbled by the emotion he saw in her eyes.

  Miranda blushed. “You were magnificent,” she whispered, still awestruck by the magnitude of the feelings coursing through her.

  “You were magnificent,” Daniel corrected. “Now, come down here and let me hold you.”

  Her arms and legs felt limp and lifeless, but Miranda gave him a brilliant smile that spoke of deep satisfaction as she climbed over him, then lay beside him, her body pressed against him, her legs intertwined with his. Reaching up, she placed her palms on both sides of face. “Thank you,” she said simply, as she pulled his face down to meet her lips.

  “It was an honor,” he whispered seconds before he captured her mouth with his and she tasted herself on his lips.

  “Hmm,” Miranda murmured, stretching languidly, like a cat.

  “Good?” he asked, pulling away from her mouth to kiss the tip of her nose.

  “Better than good, but I must admit that lovemaking appears to be rather one-sided.”
Miranda opened her eyes and gazed at him.

  “How so?”

  “You’ve done all the work,” she answered. “I’ve done nothing except hold onto the bedposts and revel in the most exquisite feeling of bliss and satisfaction I’ve ever felt.” She cradled his face in her hands, feeling with her hands the rough texture of his two days’ growth of whiskers, which she’d felt against her inner thighs minutes earlier. “But in my experience, men are generally selfish creatures. And although you seem to enjoy it, I don’t understand what you get out of it.”

  “The joy of watching you,” he answered. “The pleasure of knowing that I’ve given you bliss the likes of which you’ve never known and that you allowed me to do it.”

  “What lady wouldn’t want to experience such pleasure?” Miranda asked.

  “You would be surprised at the number of gentlemen and ladies who have no idea such pleasure is possible and would be repulsed by the very idea …”

  Miranda shook her head. Apparently her parents had been among that number. What else could explain why her mother had told her lovemaking was embarrassing and uncomfortable? “We are acquainted with a great many ignorant and foolish ladies and gentlemen. Fortunately, you are not one of them.” The smile she gave him was positively wicked.

  “And neither are you, milady.” Daniel cupped one of her breasts, then moved close enough to lick the tip of it.

  She sucked in a breath. “I can’t help wondering where you came by such knowledge …”

  “The way most enlightened gentlemen do,” he said. “I had a generous and marvelously uninhibited teacher for whom I am eternally grateful.”

  “So am I,” Miranda replied. “I don’t quite understand how I could lose my virginity by doing what we did, but …”

  Daniel laughed. “Miranda, my sweet, what we did is one of the ways a gentleman can pleasure a lady without taking her virginity.”

  “Oh.” She looked at him and Daniel recognized the disappointment on her face. “Well, of course. How stupid of me. You’re a gentleman. I should have realized you would know how to be intimate without … It’s just that I thought you wanted to make love to … It’s just that I thought …” She struggled to find the right word. “Otherwise.”

  “I am making love to you,” Daniel told her. “There are as many ways to make love as there are couples doing it. Women generally take a bit longer to find satisfaction than men. What I did to you, what we just shared, is usually a prelude to the other ways of making love that result in the loss of your virginity and the possibility of a child …”

  “There’s …”

  He read her mind. “More,” he promised. “In fact, it’s only the beginning. Because, while I should know better …” He took a deep breath. “I am going to make love to you in as many ways as I possibly can. In as many ways as you’ll allow… God help me, but I fully intend to dispose of your virginity. Now. Tonight.” He looked her in the eyes so there would be no misunderstanding. “Unfortunately, that’s the part of lovemaking that may be uncomfortable for you and incredibly pleasurable for me.” He made a face at her. “And the part selfish men generally enjoy most.”

  “I knew it was too good to be true,” Miranda replied in a slightly disappointed tone of voice. “I knew there had to be discomfort somewhere.”

  “Not for you,” he said, brushing her lips with a tender kiss. “Not if I can help it. I may be selfish in other ways, but you’ll find I’m a very generous lover.”

  “Prove it,” she challenged.

  “I thought I already had,” he replied. “With your prelude to lovemaking.”

  Miranda looped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another passionate kiss. “Prove it again with the finale,” she ordered. “And start by licking my breast again.”

  Daniel’s body tightened with each word. He sucked in a breath and held it as the male part of him grew rigid and insistent, staining the sheets with the beads of moisture that appeared each time he thought about what was to follow.

  Miranda smiled, then cupped her breast and offered it to him.

  Daniel’s blood rushed downward. The throbbing in his groin increased with each beat of his heart. Aching to sheathe himself in her warmth and end the exquisite torment, he accommodated her request, rolling her onto her back before lifting himself to cover her.

  Settling between her legs, Daniel pressed himself against her. His male member nestled against her mound, cushioned by the soft curls covering it as he lavished attention on her breasts.

  Reaching up, Miranda trailed her fingers up and down his spine, over the strips of cloth that bound his ribs and the bandage that covered his wound, then over his firm, muscular buttocks, down the tops of his thighs, and around to the front, where she brushed her fingers against him.

  Momentarily forgetting about her breasts, Daniel sat back on his heels and groaned aloud as his hard jutting length surged up to greet her.

  Miranda chuckled at his reaction. She wrapped her fingers around him, marveling at the feel of iron encased in velvet as she moved her hand up and down, testing the effect.

  But Daniel put a quick end to her experiment by gripping her wrist and guiding her hand safely out of reach. He leaned forward, lifted her hips, and slipped inside her.

  His entry was smooth and painless. Daniel bit his bottom lip to keep from groaning aloud as he gently pushed forward until he reached the bit of tissue barring his way.

  “Why are you stopping?” Miranda squirmed against the pressure building inside her.

  “Sssh,” he soothed, placing a gentle kiss on her eyelid and then on the corner of her mouth. “Lie still for a moment. We’re in no hurry. There’s no need to rush.”

  But there was. Filled by a sense of urgency she couldn’t name, Miranda moved against him.

  “Don’t …” He tried to warn her, but Miranda pulled him to her and Daniel pushed past the barrier to sheath his full length inside her.

  The tearing pain lasted only a heartbeat or two, but it was enough to give Miranda pause.

  “That hurt,” she murmured against his ear, seconds before biting down on his lobe.

  Daniel yelped.

  “Now, we’re even,” she told him.

  He smiled down at her. And then he kissed her with all the pent-up passion and frustration and longing he felt. He kissed her until her breasts heaved with exertion, until her bones seemed to turn to jelly, until all she could do was cling to him, returning his kisses as she fervently gave herself up to the rhythm as old as time.

  He set the pace, and Miranda followed, matching his movements thrust for thrust. She held on to him, reveling in the weight and feel of him as he filled her again and again, gifting her with himself in a way she’d never dreamed possible.

  Tears of joy trickled from the corners of her eyes, ran down her cheeks, and disappeared into the silk of her hair as she felt the first tremors flow through her.

  Surrendering to the emotions swirling inside her, Miranda gave voice to the passion building inside her as Daniel rocked her to him and exploded inside her. “I love you, Daniel.”

  “I think I’ve lost the hearing in one ear,” he whispered, brushing his lips against her cheek, burying his fingers in her hair, tasting the saltiness of the tears on her face. “You might have warned me that you were a screamer.”

  “How could I?” she asked. “When I’ve never been one until now?”

  He lifted his head and looked down at her face. God, but she was beautiful. Daniel shuddered as a rush of emotion raced through him. He should have spoken words of love instead of words of passion.

  I love you, Daniel.

  She had said the words loud enough for him to hear. He smiled. She’d screamed the words loud enough for the neighbors to hear. He should have done the same.

  He should have cherished her and treated her more tenderly instead of using her to slake his raging desire. She deserved a better introduction to passion than the one he’d just given her. And he’d see that
she got it.

  Just as soon as he recovered from this one.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Every one complains of a poor memory,

  no one of a weak judgment.”

  —François, Duc de La Rochefoucauld, 1613–1680

  Miranda awoke with a start to the sound of a coach driving up. She pushed the hair out of her eyes and looked around. The bedroom drapes were open and the room was filled with sunshine. She looked at the clock. It was a few minutes past nine in the morning and Daniel was still fast asleep.

  She covered a yawn with her hand, then rolled out of bed and pulled on her undergarments and dress. The marble chessboard was lying on the carpet surrounded by toppled chessmen. She righted the chessboard and began collecting the pieces along with the handful of hairpins scattered on the floor. Miranda stepped into her slippers and quietly opened the door and walked down the hall, where she made her way to the bath so as not to disturb Daniel.

  She finished her toilette and was anchoring the last of her hairpins in place when she entered the kitchen to find Ned already inside, surrounded by more baskets of provisions and several brown-paper-wrapped packages bearing the name of Daniel’s tailor.

  “I came as soon as I could!” he exclaimed, breathless with excitement. “I thought His Grace would want to know about it. The news is all over town. And in the morning papers.”

  “His mother?” Miranda demanded. “Has something happened to his mother?” She didn’t care much for the dowager duchess and she knew the dowager duchess despised her, but Daniel loved his mother, and to her credit, Miranda’s first thought was for her.

  “No, milady.”

  “Our marriage? Has news of it leaked out?”

  “Not that I’m aware, milady,” Ned answered.

  “Then what is it?”

  “It’s the Marquess of Shepherdston,” Ned announced. “He fought a duel this morning.”

  “Against whom?” Miranda held her breath, praying she wouldn’t hear the name Micah.

  “Lord Dunbridge.”

  Miranda frowned. “Lord Reginald Dunbridge?”