by Ella Edon
Slowly, he started to unfasten the buttons of her gown. He kissed her as he did so, undoing them one by one. She shut her eyes, her body felt hot and the sensation of his fingers on her back stirred the fire that was flowing in her nerves and muscles, making her entire body thrum with anticipation.
When he’d reached her waist, he gently eased the sleeves of the gown down over her arms. She watched him, and she felt his hand shake.
“I will do you no harm,” he whispered, as he eased the sleeves off, then carefully peeled the dress down to her waist and then to her feet. It fell on the floor in a smooth arc.
She was dressed in a silk shift. She felt a sweet flush fill her cheeks as his eyes feasted on her body.
He gently pulled the shift down her body.
“You are beautiful,” he said.
She looked up at him and felt herself melt with longing as his eyes moved to her breasts that showed now, and at her waist, her thighs. She had never felt like this before, and it surprised her. She liked to have him look at her like that, and when he laid a hand on her waist, she shut her eyes, feeling the touch with every part of her. .
She felt him tug the shift off her body, and then, shivering, he bent to kiss her. She gasped as he took a nipple in his mouth. It felt like nothing she could imagine, making a slow fire spread from her breasts to her abdomen, the feeling growing as he gently moved his tongue over the firmness of her nipple.
He moved lower, kissing her belly, his lips tracing over her skin and then, as the shift slid to the floor, he sat back and simply looked at her body, letting his eyes move over the soft curves and rises and falls of her. She smiled, surprised by how good it felt to have his eyes linger on her. She would never have thought that she would feel at ease with that.
He kissed his way down her body and she felt the tender touch of his lips, nibbling down her with a delicate pressure that excited her more than anything she had ever known. She sighed, unable to hold still or to believe how good she felt as he moved down to her thighs.
He looked up at her, smiling; his eyes were slightly worried.
“I will never hurt you,” he whispered. “Tell me if I do, and I will stop. I swear.”
She nodded and surprised herself with her answer. “I know,” she murmured. She knew he would never hurt her. Not by mistake or on purpose.
He bent down again and surprised her utterly by pressing his lips to her secret skin, licking at the parting of her thighs. She gasped, unable to control her response. It felt tingling and warm and sweet and impossible to describe. She felt him hesitate, and smiled down at him as he looked up, trying to assure her that she was not responding because of pain. He nodded and bent down again, and she gasped again as his tongue gently parted her folds. Her eyes were shut, and she moaned in excitement as he gently bit her there. His lips were warm and soft and the way they felt when he touched her there was like nothing she had ever imagined. She tried to lie still, but it was impossible to do so.
He licked her again, this time faster, his tongue pressing against her, touching one particular place that felt better than anything she had ever imagined. He went faster and faster and she couldn’t hold back sounds of appreciation and almost fear as he licked harder and harder. The feelings were rising in her, building and growing.
She gasped as something happened inside her, some strange, melting, rising feeling that was flowing through her, making her feel better and more relaxed than ever.
He moved from where he lay, and she smiled at the happy expression on his face. She wanted to ask him what had happened to her, but he looked so happy that she didn’t want to disturb him. He stood and started removing his clothes.
Raymonde laid back on the bed, watching as he took off his jacket, then his shirt. He rolled his shoulders and she stared at him, feeling a strange longing grow in her as she saw the thick muscles of his arms, his flat, hard chest.
He looked so different to her own body, and yet he was beautiful. She took a deep breath as the shirt fell, and he was half-naked. His body was strong and lean, his back thick with muscle. She could see a few scars on his shoulders and chest – part of the legacy of war.
He unfastened his belt and drew down the velvet breeches. She felt her cheeks heat as she watched him undress, rolling down the silk stockings and then removing his drawers. It seemed almost improper to see him undressed, but she knew that was fanciful.
She felt her cheeks flush as he stood before her naked. She had no real inkling of what men looked like under their clothes, but she felt surprise that nothing she saw there frightened or repelled her. In fact, she found his body exciting and intriguing.
He came over to the bed, and she made room for him, amazing herself with her longing to reach out and hold him. He lay beside her, and he reached out and gently rested a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him. He kissed her, tenderly and sweet, and she sighed as he held her in his arms. His warm skin pressed against hers and she wrapped her arms around him, drawing him close to her, pressing him to her with a firm embrace. It felt so good, so right! She felt the strange heat that had filled her body return again, flowing up from her abdomen and through her whole body.
He knelt beside her and gently slipped his knee between her legs. She gasped, not sure of what was going to happen next. Then he lay over her, his waist pressed to hers, his weight resting on his arms.
“Tell me if I cause pain,” he whispered in her ear.
Then, gently, slowly, he took that organ which was so different to anything she had on her own body and pressed it into her.
She cried out, amazed by the feeling of fullness and completeness that rushed through her. She shut her eyes, then, as a brief pain evidenced itself. It was gone almost as swiftly as it arrived, and he withdrew and pushed in, making her cry out again with amazement at the sensations he woke in her.
He smiled down at her, and she realized the feelings that were possessing her were no different to the ones he was feeling. His face was suffused with longing, too, his lips pressed together in a tense half-smile.
He started to cry out and he drove into her again and again, faster and faster. Some part of her body felt those thrusts and met them, feeling the sensations growing and building in her, knowing that she wanted him never to stop.
The sensations she felt built and grew and then, suddenly, unexpectedly, she was drifting in a sea of feelings, even more intense than the one she had experienced earlier. This time, he was crying out too, moving and thrusting inside her.
Suddenly, abruptly, he let out a grunting sigh and collapsed.
She held him in her arms, feeling her body and her heart flood with tender feelings.
He rolled over and kissed her and she smiled. He stroked her hair and she held him, her hands resting on his back, her legs wrapping around him. They lay like that, slowly drifting into sleep.
“Raymonde,” he said softly in her ear as his mind returned from the distant place to which it had traveled. “I love you.”
She smiled – she felt her lips part in a slow, sweet grin. She turned to face him, heart soaring with feelings. “I love you, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
At Ease
Raymonde woke up with the feeling of warmth on her face. The sunlight streamed in through the window, heating her skin. She opened her eyes and smiled.
Beside her in the bed, she could feel the solidness of a body. She rolled over, stretching her back as she encountered a sleepy man.
“Good morning,” Cutler whispered as she rolled over.
“Good morning.”
He kissed her ear and she sighed as delicious feelings moved through her body, flaring up through her chest and into her brain. She rolled over to face him, her lips pressed to his, her body pressed against him.
“Did you sleep well?” he whispered in her ear.
“So well,” she agreed. She had slept so deeply that she could almost remember dreams, shadowed and vague, but still more definite than she ha
d dreamed for many months.
He chuckled. His lips found her chin and then moved down her neck, a trail of kisses that reached her breasts and continued downwards. She gasped as his lips awakened fires in her that she would never have believed could be lit.
He drew her against him and she felt his hardness becoming harder, as he gently parted her thighs and thrust into her.
They made love again, and then she slept for a time in his arms.
“Good morning,” he murmured as she stirred to wakefulness again. “I wonder if you’d like some breakfast?”
She grinned at him, her eyes opening. “Breakfast sounds like a lovely idea,” she said. “I’m so hungry.”
He chuckled as she rolled over and sat up. “Well, then. I think we should hasten to breakfast. Unless, of course, you would like to have it in bed?”
She blushed. “Well, the idea has some advantages.”
He laughed and went to the bell-rope. She let her eyes linger on his muscled body as he did so, smiling appreciatively at him. He was a fine man! His waist was slim, his arms muscled, his back hard and straight. She recalled how he felt under her hands – so strong and firm – and blushed.
They ate breakfast in bed, and then as Cutler took the tray to the window, stretching, he turned to her.
“Should we ride today?”
“Mayhap,” she agreed, standing up. It felt strange, being on her feet. Her body felt pained in odd places, but in a good way. She felt alive, like she had never felt before. It was a lovely feeling.
They agreed on a plan. They would go for a ride, and then they would meet and decide what to do next. In their original plan, she would have returned to the manor tomorrow. But now that they were wed, they had no worries for what people would think of them.
“So,” he said, as they rode out across the hills, “we can stay for longer, if we would both wish it.”
“I think we should clear up this business with the tenants,” she said.
“Raymonde,” he breathed, riding close beside her. “You are too good. We needn’t stay and address that now. We can return to Westmore or go to London. We have a right to do as we will.”
“Yes,” she said, feeling her heart thump at his proximity. “But I think that, since we are here, we should clear up this mystery.”
“I agree,” he said.
They rode on in silence. The sun had come out for the day, and it felt wonderful and warm. The horses were glad of the exercise, and Raymonde felt her spirit soar as her horse stretched her legs, running across the field.
“Wait!” Cutler called, laughing, as he rode up to join her.
Raymonde turned around in the saddle, grinning. “I know you can catch up with me,” she said, raising a brow at him.
He laughed, and she saw him ease his horse into a gallop. She was tempted to take off, but she let him close the gap, and then they rode, side by side, towards the tree-line.
They returned in time for lunch. When they arrived, Hanford was waiting to meet them. He looked tense.
“Hanford,” Cutler said, dismounting swiftly. “What is it that ails you?”
“I have news from London, sir,” Hanford said, tight-lipped. “But it seems you are too busy occupying yourself with… other distractions.”
Raymonde felt her back stiffen as Hanford’s disapproving eye swept across her. She tensed as she saw Cutler’s face darken.
“You are addressing Mrs. Wingate, sir,” he said. His face was hard.
Raymonde’s heart thumped as Cutler crossed the drive and stood beside her horse, holding the bridle. “This is my wife.”
“Sir. Madam.” Hanford bowed to her. Raymonde could see that his expression was anything but fond, but he went through the motions of courtesy.
“We are staying here for another week,” Cutler added, not moving from where he stood, glued to her side. “And I would appreciate that you maintained civility for that time.”
“Yes, sir.”
Raymonde looked away, but not before she had seen two spots of crimson on the man’s cheeks. She didn’t want to feel pleased, but felt a quiet satisfaction nonetheless.
Cutler turned to her and held the horse while she dismounted. Then, as Lewis came to take their horses to unsaddle, he took her arm. He walked up the stairs with her, casting a glare at Hanford as he waited on the step for them to pass.
“I will have him dismissed, if he ever speaks to you like that,” Cutler murmured to Raymonde, who shook her head.
“You can’t do that, Cutler,” she whispered. “He lives here.”
“He handles my estate; not the other way around.” Cutler looked cold. “And it has been too long since I did anything about it.”
Raymonde couldn’t help but feel a flutter of pride as he walked, straight-backed, up the steps. She hadn’t seen him like this before. It was like a new determination filled him. She was happy to see it, and to see him truly being himself.
She followed him into the parlor, where he rang the bell for tea. Miss Seaforth brought it, and, as she set the teapot and cups out on the table, he talked to her.
“We saw Mr. Simmons yesterday,” he said. “He told us more about Alford.”
“He is my uncle, sir,” the maid replied. Raymonde could see in her posture that she, too, had noticed a new sheen of authority about Cutler and her heart glowed to see it.
“Well, good!” Cutler nodded. “We would like to meet with him again. We have a plan to stop the problems in the cottages.”
“I’m pleased, sir,” she said softly. Raymonde saw her eyes drop, looking at the ground. “But, sir… I’m also afraid. If they do find out who was at the bottom of it, then their anger will be…”
“Nobody will harm your uncle, or you,” Raymonde said gently. “I will guarantee it.”
“Thank you, Madam,” the maid said, dropping a low curtsey.
Raymonde nodded. At all costs, the villagers would be protected. It was not only for Cutler to get the rent paid out to him that they were fighting – it was for those poor people, who were being overcharged and worked to exhaustion.
“If you could contact your uncle, and ask him to meet us at Wycliffe Inn, it would be grand,” Cutler added, stirring his cup of tea.
“Yes, sir.”
When she had left, Cutler poured tea for Raymonde, passing her the full cup. She took it, feeling a little jolt as her fingers touched his on the rim. She smiled across at him.
“What are you planning?” she asked. They had discussed their plans regarding the cottagers, but he had clearly added some embellishments of his own he hadn’t mentioned.
“I think we should rouse rebellion.”
She raised a brow. “You mean, the cottagers should revolt against their self-appointed landlord?”
“I think so,” he said. “I think they would have wanted to, if they could be guaranteed support.”
“I agree,” she replied.
She sipped her tea, and Cutler reached for a slice of Madeira cake. They ate and drank in silence, the stillness of the room broken only by the ticking of the small clock.
“I am sorry that you have to stay here,” Cutler commented. “I mean, with the likes of Hanford insulting you.”
“You defended me,” she said, sipping her tea. Her eyes held his and she was surprised as he smiled, an abashed expression.
“Of course!” he said swiftly. “Though, I must say, it felt good to say that. I would never have said that, without you to be proud of who I am.”
Raymonde felt her heart grow warm. “I am so glad,” she said gently. “I am so proud of who you are. So proud.”
He grinned, a shy smile. “And I am so proud to walk with you beside me.”
She smiled. “Me too.”
He stood and sat down beside her on the chaise-lounge, taking her hands in his.
“Raymonde, I am so happy. I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy.”
She blushed. “Nor did I.”
He laughed softly. “Yo
u make me so happy.”
“Not as happy as you make me.”
He raised a brow. “I think it impossible to be happier than you make me, right now.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers and she shut her eyes as he drew her into a sweet kiss.