by Wendy Stone
He smiled when her back arched, begging him silently for more. Her hands clenched, drawing his head down once more, feeding her nipple into his mouth. “Jason,” she moaned, arching higher, pressing more of her succulent breast into his mouth. “That feels so good.”
He played, enjoying her wriggles and cries. Teasing her was almost more than he could stand, he wanted her badly. Hearing his name called in that husky whisper, he had to lean back, ease her gown up and over that turgid berry-colored treasure. He pulled her close and she wrapped herself around him, her arms around his neck as he tried to calm his breathing.
“You are such a wondrous armful, my love. If we’d gone further, our wedding night would have started here in this coach and damn the witnesses.”
She laughed, though it came out slightly strangled, and buried her face against his shoulder. Her nipple still tingled from his lips, tongue and teeth. Deep in her heart, doubt began to grow. Not at Jason, but at herself. What kind of woman was she if two men could make her feel like this? Her mother had told her the facts of life, coming from a family who believed that sex was a natural expression of love.
Gabriella had told her that her first time would hurt, and it had. She’d told her to trust her husband, and she did. Gabriella had told her that when a man and a woman loved each other, what happened between them in the privacy of their bedchambers was absolutely exquisite.
But Alyssa had expected to love her husband. She hadn’t expected to feel these doubts, to be wondering about another man when her husband put his hands upon her. To be thinking about someone else when his mouth had been loving her. She forced back the tears that wanted to come, damning Jamie once more to the horrid fires of hell for what he’d done to her.
“Alyssa? Is something amiss, my love?” Jason asked, his eyes noting the faint frown that had settled on her lovely face.
She forced a smile, banishing her thoughts of another man to the far reaches of her mind, hoping to banish him someday from her heart. She had a good man here, one who wanted to be with her. She would think of him.
“Nothing is wrong, love. I just haven’t slept well the past few nights.”
Jason felt the guilt eat at him again, but refused to give into it now. He would make it up to her. That was all he could do.
They arrived at the townhouse, the servants lining up just inside the door. Alyssa greeted each one as Jason introduced them, knowing that when they returned from the country, she would have to become mistress of this household. It was always good to start off right.
Then she was shown to her bedchamber, connecting doors opening to Jason’s next door. Her bag sat upon the small chaise against the footboard of the bed, and was opened, her few things carefully put away.
“Your Grace?” The voice was timid, almost as hesitant as the knock that came from the door that was still ajar.
“Yes,” Alyssa said, whirling at the knock.
“May I help you, Your Grace? I am Beatrice, the second floor maid. Your maid, I believe, was sent on already, so I can help with your buttons and such if you’d like.”
Alyssa smiled at the timid girl, gesturing her in. “Yes, thank you, Beatrice. Your mother is cook here, is she not?”
They conversed quietly, Beatrice’s shyness wearing off as she helped her disrobe, pulling out a silky white nightgown that buttoned to the low neckline and clung to Alyssa’s curves like a lover’s hand. A dressing gown of white satin was put on over this and then Alyssa sat at the small dressing table while the elegant coiffure that had taken so long to do was pulled apart in moments by Beatrice’s nimble fingers.
Her hair was brushed until it shone like burnished fire down her back, a few curls left around her face to frame the sweet oval shape of it. At the knock on the connecting doors, Beatrice dropped the brush she’d been wielding, and turned to leave, nodding quickly as Alyssa called her thanks before rushing out the hall door.
Jason came in, his eyes roaming the room until he found her, seated at the small table, her eyes huge, staring at him in his dark dressing gown. He moved toward her slowly, almost as if he was afraid she’d disappear, like some magical being born of moonlight and stardust.
“You are lovely, Alyssa,” he said, his voice grown husky with bemusement. She was bewitching, exquisite, her skin like fine porcelain, pale in the light of the candles. “I am afraid to touch you,” he whispered, dropping to his knees next to her. “I am afraid you’ll disappear and leave me a broken man.”
“I am real, Jason,” she said, reaching for his hand and putting it to her cheek. “I am flesh and blood and your wife. I won’t leave you,” she said quietly, feeling the seductive heat of his palm against her skin.
“Promise?” he asked, his now dark blue eyes searching her smoky ones.
“Of course, I promise. My place is by your side, Jason.”
He reached out, dragging her from the bench, cradling her in his arms. “There’s been a table set up in my room,” he said, looking down at her, finding her lips so close to his own, her eyes staring at him. “It is full of food, and wine.”
Alyssa noted the heavy beat of his heart pounding against her breast, the heavy-lidded desire in his eyes. It sent her own heart to throbbing. She could smell the clean scent of his skin, feel the heat of his body against her own. “Are you hungry?” she asked breathlessly.
“Not for food or wine,” he answered her, his voice barely above a growl. “But we might get hungry later. Much, much later.”
With her still in his arms, he walked back through the connecting doors and into his room, a room she had yet to see. It was big, with the bed the focal point. It was a huge monstrosity of a bed with tall posts and an intricately carved headboard. She didn’t have a chance to note many details, for he let her slide down his body, her feet barely touching the floor, his arms around her holding her to him. “I’ve dreamed of seeing you here, like this,” he growled, his forehead dropping to hers. “And now that you are, I am afraid.”
“Of what?” Alyssa asked, her hands sliding over his shoulders.
“Of so many things, Alyssa. Of hurting you, of being a disappointment, of not being able to control my own passions enough to bring you pleasure. I’ve wanted you for so long, Alyssa,” he muttered, his mouth finding hers.
The kiss was uncontrolled, wildly passionate, wickedly wanton, making her toes curl in the small slippers upon her feet. His lips were hot, his taste like sweet sin as her tongue curled around his, responding just as wildly. She heard his groan, felt him hard against her stomach, pressing into her softness.
“The bed,” she murmured, as his mouth pulled from hers, blazing a trail of lust down her slender throat.
“Yes,” he moaned, his fingers pulling at the tie of her satin dressing gown as he walked her backward until her thighs touched the bed. White satin pooled at her feet, leaving her in only the white sheath, the silk glimmering dully in the light of the candles. He stepped back, his eyes roaming over her slender curves, lingering on the round fullness of her breast, the nipples hard under the thin fabric.
Her hands reached out, finding the cord that held his robe closed, pulling on it with fingers that shook with a combination of nerves and passion. The robe opened, showing a strip of hard male flesh, taut and sensually appealing. Alyssa stepped forward, opening his robe more and stepping into its folds, feeling the warmth of his skin through the silk, and that long length now separated from her only by the thinness of her gown.
He groaned at the way she felt, her soft breast pressing into his chest, his cock rubbing against the yielding flesh of her stomach. His hands rose and he stared at them in disbelief, seeing the fine tremor caused by nerves. “I can’t believe you affect me this way, Alyssa. I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you. I’ll make it good for you, my love. I promise you that.”
“I know you will, Jason. Touch me,” she begged, her hands sliding up over his chest. “Please, touch me. Make me yours.”
He shrugged and the robe fell f
rom his shoulders, leaving him bare to her eyes. His hands went to the tiny buttons on the front of her gown, opening them with a frenzy that made her gasp. When it was open far enough, he slid the thin straps from her shoulders and let the material fall in a second pool, silk atop the satin. He lifted her out of it, laying her upon the bed. With infinite care, he pulled off her tiny slippers, setting them aside.
And then his hands were on her legs, starting at her ankles, rubbing upward with gentle strokes. His fingers found the sensitive flesh behind her knees, caressing her with tender touches. He bent his head, his lips finding the soft skin of her inner knee, moving upward until her legs were parted, his hands holding her thighs. He stared at her beautiful, wet pink flesh hidden by the fiery red curls.
His finger stroked through her wetness, playing around her slick, yearning opening, teasing her with tiny flicks of his finger against the hard nub of her clit. Her body twisted under his hands, her fingers twining into the soft coverlet beneath her naked flesh. He heard her whimpers and tiny cries, let them wash over him as the pleasure he created washed over her.
He bent his head, his lips traveling towards her wet cunt. His tongue lapped at her sweet folds, pulling and suckling on her inner lips before finding her clit. He sucked gently upon the hard bud of nerves, listening as she keened her pleasure, the wet spendings that told of her ecstasy flooding his mouth. Her hands were in his hair, her eyes closed, her face twisted in a grimace as he brought her to climax.
He lifted his head, his face glistening with her juices, smiling up at her as she laid panting and shivering. “You taste so sweet,” he said, his hands softly stroking her body.
His mouth found a hard nipple, his tongue slipping over it, tasting her flesh. He could feel the heat of her wet cunt against his cock, and then the wetness of her enveloping him as he pushed inside of her.
Alyssa cried out as he stretched her so wonderfully, filling her slowly until she thought she’d go mad with the sensations. Her hands caressed his chest, stroked his back, slid down to his slowly moving buttocks and slipped over them. Her mind was spinning with the pleasure he was bringing her, feeling the heated friction of his thrusts, hearing his grunts as he plowed into her. She could smell the scent of his skin mixed with the heady scent of arousal and sex that permeated the room.
Her body moved under him, her hands grasping and holding him, feeling her need spiral until she was jerking up against him, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him even tighter. His lips found hers, his tongue a wild flame inside her mouth and then he pulled away again, his eyes glittering as he stared down at her.
It didn’t take long as they were both too anxious, too needful to wait or to take their time. Jason thrust inside of her, his cock plundering her depths even as she pushed against him. He heard the keening cry, felt her velvety wet sheath contract around him, the muscles milking his cock. Her hands were claws, her nails digging half moon welts into his back.
Pleasure engulfed him, flames of ecstasy that lapped at his spine. Relief flooded him as he felt his cock swell and then rope after rope of hot come shot deep inside of her. He held himself rigid above her, his body shaking with tension as he emptied himself.
And then he collapsed, barely holding his weight off her. His arms shook, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath and calm the racing of his heart. She’d been as wonderful as he remembered, more so because now she was his and his alone.
He lifted his head, feeling her hands stroking slowly down his back, gently, tenderly holding him. Her eyes were closed, a small smile upon her lush lips. He stared down at her, and suddenly he knew. He knew as if someone had whispered in her ear. If she found out, if she somehow found out about his duplicity? It would be over, he would lose her.
Fear gripped his stomach, twisted it and wrapped like icy fingers around his heart. He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t lose her.
“Alyssa,” he breathed, waiting until she opened her eyes and looked at him. “I love you.”
Chapter Thirteen
The words were so unexpected, the emotion behind them so fierce that for a moment, Alyssa could not speak through her shock. Jason’s eyes remained locked to hers and she knew she should echo his sentiments. But the words would not come, despite the fact that there most certainly was never a more appropriate time for them. And then the moment passed as Jason rolled to his back, pulling her to him, his fingers rubbing gently against her arm.
She cradled her head on his shoulder, savoring the way he made her feel, savoring the sound of those words, though she couldn’t return them to him. She was still so confused, and his lovemaking, while spectacular, had confused her more.
“You’re making my head ache, darling,” he said lightly, touching her brow with his fingertips and easing the furrows that had grown there without her knowing. “Perhaps these thoughts are too deep to have upon a wedding night. You should not be frowning so. You should only be thinking of how wonderful I am. You should be sending praise to the gods for the talents they’ve given me, that just one touch of my little finger can send you into ecstasy.”
Alyssa laughed, knowing he was purposely trying to lighten the mood. She couldn’t help but wonder if he were hurt by her inability to say those same back to him.
“I was just waiting until I got my breath back, Jason. You are so exceedingly talented that you stole it away.” She lifted her head, staring down at him. “I hope I didn’t disappoint you,” she said suddenly, ducking her head a little and biting her lip.
“Oh, my love, if you’d been much better, I probably wouldn’t have survived.” He laughed as she blushed, pulling her close and hugging her to him. The feel of her body pressed against his set his blood to boiling again, but he made the effort to ignore it, knowing she had to be tired after the day they’d just had.
Alyssa kissed his shoulder, her tongue sneaking out to lap at the salty taste of his skin. She was content with the match she had made, more than content actually. Her thigh rested across his and she shifted slightly, rubbing her silken flesh against his hairy legs, enjoying the contrast and how it made her feel.
His hand came down to her knee, holding it and moving her leg more fully over his. “Um, careful love, you don’t want to unman me on our wedding night. How could I send you into screaming fits of bliss if you were to do so?”
“Screaming fits of bliss?” she asked him, her brow arching under the red of her hair. “Is that what you did earlier?”
“Well, you were here for the bliss part and my ears are still ringing from the screaming bit, so, yes,” he said, nodding his head, smiling widely.
He looked like such a little boy, with that wide smile and his dark hair falling over his forehead, mussed by her hands, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, Jason,” she said, putting just the right amount of ‘yes, dear’ into her voice. “You are so right, dear husband.”
His eyes narrowed and then suddenly she was flat upon her back, his hands on her ribs, tickling madly against her skin. She screamed and squirmed, her body writhing under him. “Say I am the best lover in the world,” he ordered, his hands stilling on her sides.
“Y…you are t…the best,” she panted, little spurts of giggles still coming from between her lips.
“And Teddy said you couldn’t be an obedient wife…”
“What?!” she cried, pushing him off her and rising over him. Her legs straddled his hips, her hands coming out to hold him down.
She squeaked as his hands went to her waist, lifting her easily and finding the heated core of her, impaling her upon his hard cock. He grinned as she stared down at him, her eyes glazing with pleasure, her fisted hands opening to knead into his flesh. “I just wanted to get you to ride, love,” he whispered, rocking her gently over him, feeling her body open, soften to him, surround him with wet, hot ripples that made his heart race.
Her thighs flexed, raising her until he was barely inside then sliding back down slowly, until she took every long inch of him. He fi
lled her so wonderfully, so completely, the glowing brand of his cock seeming to sear her with pleasure from the inside. His hands lifted to her sensitive breasts, his fingers pulling upon her hard nipples, twisting them, cupping the smooth weight of her breasts. He kneaded them gently, craving the moans that came from between her lush lips.
She was a vision, her skin dappled in shadow from the flickering light of the candles. Her head was thrown back, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip with a sensuality that had him gasping. Her hair was loose, thrown back, long strands clinging to the veil of perspiration on her skin. She rode him langorously, shivering as she pushed herself closer to pleasure.
Just watching her gave him more joy than he’d ever had. Feeling her surrounding him, her heat, the scent of her arousal, the softness of her skin; these had him wishing for things he’d never thought to wish for before. He wanted it all now, the marriage and children, coming home to her, seeing her nursing their child, loving a child that was part of them both. He wanted to have her in his bed every night, in the afternoons, mornings, whenever he could whisk her away to their chamber. He wanted to grow old with her and know that every year had been better than the one prior.
But most importantly, he wanted her love.
“Jason,” she moaned, her hands tracing up his shoulders as she let herself down on top of his chest. “You aren’t paying attention, husband.”
The sensation of her breasts pressing into his chest woke him out of his thoughts and he grabbed her hips, hands sliding around until he filled his palms with the curves of her bottom, pulling her against him harder.
“Is that better, love?”
“Oh, yes,” she lisped, her eyes closing as the pleasure grew.