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Clarissa lay back against the plump pillows in the marquess's bed and stared at the entrance door. She had no idea how much time had passed when the door finally swung open. The marquess appeared, his large silhouette limned by the soft glow from lit sconces in the hallway. He paused in the doorway, his hands braced against the wooden frame.
Suddenly, Clarissa's heart started to ricochet against her ribs.
Slowly, she watched him enter, then turn, and twist a key in the lock.
The tumbler in the lock fell silently as he approached the bed.
Clarissa lay in the middle of the mattress, unmoving, covers drawn up to her waist, her long hair plaited over one shoulder and lying atop one plump breast.
The marquess wavered slightly in his movements, halted, and stared down at her before edging his buttocks onto the mattress.
Heat spurted through her veins.
"Wife,” he rasped. The sound was so low it was almost inaudible, his dark eyes burning into hers.
"Hus-husband,” she answered, just as softly.
Alex reached a large hand out and slowly drew the roughness of an index finger over her skin above the soft fabric of her nightrail, tracing a path of warmth between the valley of her breasts.
Clarissa shivered, not from cold but from heat. Her flesh was wildly excited by his touch. Her body was alive with anticipation, every nerve seeming vibrantly alive and waiting.
A choked sound escaped his mouth when he brushed his lips over hers then leaned close to touch his mouth to one hidden nipple. Warmth and wetness seared her senses as he licked her. She felt both nipples grow hard and sensitive. She let her eyelids droop.
Alex drew back. His index finger moved inexorably up to her throat. He tipped her chin up with his thumb. “Look at me.” The words were spoken as if a command not to be denied.
Her lashes snapped open to meet his eyes.
"Tonight, I want you to allow me whatever I want to do to you. Do you understand? And I want your willing cooperation. I promise to make you feel more like a woman, Clarissa, than you ever felt before.” His brows lifted. “Do you believe me?"
With their gazes locked, she whispered, “Y-yes. Oh yes."
"Do you trust me?"
She hesitated at first, but then she nodded in agreement.
"Good."
He stood up and removed his jacket and his waistcoat, letting both slide to the floor. Next, he untied his cravat. Within moments, he had yanked his shirt over his head. Both items landed on top of his other clothes.
Clarissa had never seen a man stripped bare to the waist. Now, she could not take her eyes off of her husband's muscular, sculpted physique. In the candlelight, his bronzed skin glowed. A large mat of dark hair bristled over a part of his upper body, but she could see tiny nipples protruding from the taut planes of his broad chest.
He sat down on the mattress again, and removed his boots.
She held her breath, anticipating his next move. Words failed before his virility and powerful male presence. Should she be afraid of him? Or only of what came next?
* * * *
Alex and Daniel had spent the last hour and a half in his study, consuming too much brandy and discussing their wives. Among other things. Not since his deceased wife, Harriet, had Alex made love with a virgin. Well, his first wife had not been a virgin. But he thought she was. Daniel, mature and in his forties, had no more experience with untouched innocents than Alex had. After the amount of brandy each consumed both were a bit foxed. They parted on the landing of the second storey, and headed in different directions, each feeling slightly anxious about his upcoming performance on his wedding night.
Alex knew many exotic ways to make love, and more ways to satisfy a woman's ultimate carnal wishes. Tonight he would use only some of what he knew on Clarissa, for both his and her pleasure. He did not wish to frighten her.
"Do you remember my mouth on your breasts in the folly?” He now asked in a ragged tone.
"Yes."
"You let me suck on your nipples. Did you like what I did?"
Her skin quivering with goose flesh, her senses totally awake, she murmured, “Y-Yes."
"How did it feel?"
When she did not reply, he repeated, “Answer me, Clarissa."
She was embarrassed. How could she discuss these things with the marquess?
"It-it felt as though ... hot, liquid sensations ... were shooting be-between my legs. I-I never felt anything like it before."
"Fine. I am glad. That is what it is supposed to do."
Alex took one of Clarissa's hands now and brought it to his lips, palm up, touching it with the tip of his tongue in a tiny, liquid caress.
She felt a new sensation spiral through her. He had never kissed her hand or her palm before except at the ceremony.
"Now, Clarissa, I want you to sit up and remove your nightrail.” His eyes focused on her. Could she really concede to his wish?
"Remove my sleeping gown?"
He squeezed her fingers. “Yes. I want you completely naked, Clarissa. I want to see all of you. I want to touch all of you. Make love to all of you. Do it now."
She did what he asked, placing the gown beside her, but pulling the bed covers up over her chest.
Alex gently lowered the covers again. Further. Exposing her legs as well as the rest of her. Then he leaned over and kissed her on the mouth, deeply, his eager tongue plunging between her lips. He heard her gasp until she finally responded with a soft sigh.
"Now I can see all of you. Your body is quite magnificent, my dear. Trust me. No one but me will ever see you, I promise."
Clarissa's skin seemed roasted by the flames in his eyes, blazing over her nakedness with a fiercely male appraisal. His irises had darkened to silver, tiny fires shimmering deep inside the bottomless depths of his pupils.
Meanwhile, Alex pinched one breast between his fingers before leaving her mouth. Now he locked onto the other pouting bud, sucking hard on the velvet tip. He felt Clarissa grow restless, writhing beneath him.
There was so much he wanted to teach her, he was not sure where to begin. His erection had grown to massive size already. It pulsed against his breeches, but he dare not release himself yet or he might not be able to stop. He was on fire for her, but he wanted her willing and ready so that her first taste of real lovemaking would not shock her.
He reared up and tossed the bed covers to the floor. “All the way off! And open your thighs for me!"
Clarissa knew what was coming. In her father's parlor Alex had touched her there. Already she felt slick liquid flowing from deep inside her body. She closed her eyes again and let her legs fall apart.
His next move shocked her, however. His callused palms smoothed up her thighs, then his strong thumbs pressed open the petals to her most intimate place. When she felt his tongue and his lips touch her there, she was mortified! She had almost cried out in puritanical outrage! But she remembered she had promised to cooperate—let him do what he wanted. After all, this was her wedding night.
And now! Oh, God! What sweet, wicked pleasure it had turned out to be!
She forgot everything while Alex's tongue pushed into the deepest part of her, licking, tasting, spreading her wide and plunging farther and farther inside her.
His lips, his tongue, and teeth drove her high onto a plane of sensation so exquisite she never quite reached before. Stabbing deep inside, he searched out the sensitive nub and flicked it, circling it with his tongue then sucking on it, his face slippery with fluid while he swallowed her sexual juices.
Clarissa thought she would die from the absolute stark pleasure building a bonfire of desire inside of her. Alex's demanding lips and seductive mouth went on and on to tantalize her wits, until suddenly she was convulsed by intoxicating waves of feeling spearing out of the center of her body, tingling the tips of her toes and fingers. When a new explosion of rapid pulsations sped through her, she found herself gasping in extreme turbulent reaction
and pleasure. It was nothing like the climax that ran through her on her father's sofa or on the folly's floor. It would have been truly frightening if had not been both excruciatingly beautiful and wonderful. More sensations vibrated through her like a violent maelstrom, powerful enough to make her tremble while she hoped she would survive the emotional and physical enjoyment that showered her with a soft, glowing golden haze of total contentment.
Sprawled on the bed, her legs stretched, her breasts heaving, Clarissa breathed deeply. It took her several minutes, panting for more breath, until she became aware of her surroundings.
Meanwhile, her husband watched her face.
Alex's engorged erection crammed impatiently against his trousers’ flap, twitching and jerking like a caged beast. He knew his new wife was as ready as she could be—plump and slippery for his own pleasure and release.
* * * *
Surrendering finally to his violent need for satisfaction, Alex removed his trousers and lowered himself above Clarissa. His knees pressed between her legs as he concentrated on making his penetration into her body as painless as possible. He pumped his hips and plowed inside her with one swift, forceful action, not slow and gentle, but wanting simply to breach her maidenhead and get the damn thing done quickly.
His wife cried out as if surprised by the sudden, unexpected invasion. Alex waited, then, for her body to accept him. But she soon composed herself and raised herself up on her elbows, leaned forward, and bit his lower lip with a wanton, sensual kiss of passionate acceptance.
"You did not hurt me,” she whispered, her drowsy gaze alight with newly aroused desire. “You only surprised me. Is there more now?"
"Yes, love. This is only the beginning."
Then he unleashed his passion and began moving inside of her.
Clarissa accepted every swift, hard thrust of his rigid manhood with another tiny gasp, then answered every slow, taut withdrawal with a soft whimper. The sounds she made only drove Alex's lust higher, stronger.
Alex took Clarissa fast and hard, wrapping her braided plait around one fist as if he needed to hang onto something tangible in the middle of his growing need to finish.
She brought her lips up to his hungry kiss as he continued to drive both of them wild with passion. Clinging to him, hands on his broad shoulders, Clarissa's breathless moans escaped, soft and wondering, reverberating around the walls of the master bedchamber as her body shuddered in another world-shaking orgasm.
Clarissa's clenching sheath milked him, sending jolts of acute rapture through him again and again. He emptied his seed into her in a splintering release that shook him almost as much as it did her.
Perfect pleasure filled him—body and soul—like nothing he had ever felt before but hoped to find again with his new wife.
Alex pulled out of her, saying, “I-I thought I would never feel anything so extraordinary. Never like this.” He rolled over, nestling close beside her, holding her lush body against him. “I dared not expect what happened between us just now. I never thought to experience such a surge of magical happiness, so much that it would change my life. But I did. Oh, yes, I did. Only with you, Clarissa, my love."
He pressed his lips against her brow with a tender kiss of surrender. “Now I know what real love feels like. I adore you, Clarissa. I will never leave you for another. I promise you that on my tainted soul."
It was a risk surrendering to the marquess the way she had, but now, Clarissa sighed, knowing she had fallen even deeper in love with him. “Nor I, Your Lordship. I care for you more than anyone on earth. I vow I will never hurt or betray you. Never. Not if you love me, always."
~The End~
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