Lynn Wood - Norman Brides 03

by The Promise Keeper

  Elena was overwhelmed by the riot of chaotic emotions swamping her. She was afraid of the intensity of her feelings, but she no longer wanted to run from them. This was what she wanted. This was what she’d been dreaming of since the first kiss they exchanged and Michel awakened her to the glorious wonder she could find in the right man’s arms. She was here in those arms now, exactly where she longed to be all of those lonely nights in her bed. She tried to draw back from the strength of his arms, but they only closed more firmly around her. At the same time, his hot mouth moved from hers to slide along the column of her throat to close over one straining breast through the thin fabric of her gown. Her knees buckled and she would have fallen if his strong arms weren’t holding her so close against his strong, masculine chest.

  Her hands were still pressed between them, and she let them explore his hard flesh through his crisp white shirt. Then growing impatient at even the thin barrier the fabric of his shirt presented, she slid her hands down and under his shirt to trail across his hot skin, marveling in the differences between their bodies.

  He was hard all over, from where his flesh stretched taut across his broad, muscular shoulders to his flat stomach where his manhood strained against the opening of his breeches. Curious, she let her fingers brush across the manly bulge and thrilled at Michel’s groan in response to her soft touch.

  “Show me, teach me to please you,” she whispered, as his mouth drifted across her skin and he used one hand to impatiently loosen the ties to her gown.

  “Touch me, Elena. Let me touch you. Let me love you.”

  Elena felt her heart melt at the sound of his deep seductive voice, trailing across her skin in mindless pleading. “Yes, anything, everything,” Elena let the words of her surrender whisper through her lips.

  Hearing them, Michel lifted his head. His eyes blazed blue fire into hers. “Are you certain? Because if we proceed and then you change your mind, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.”

  Elena stepped back away from his encircling arm and watched his face fall. Then she reached up to push the clinging gown away from her shoulders and let it fall in a gauzy heap at her feet. She made no attempt to hide her naked flesh from his suddenly avid gaze as it roamed almost violently over her.

  “Come to me, wife. Let there be no misunderstanding between us and no misgivings in the light of dawn.”

  Elena wasn’t certain her legs retained enough strength to carry her even the slight distance separating them, but her will instinctively surrendered to her husband’s greater strength, the feminine in her responding in some deeply buried place within her to the will of her mate. When she reached him, and there was only the barest breath of a space between them, she boldly reached up to slide his shirt away from his broad shoulders, all the while, his glance held hers a willing captive beneath his seductive spell. The unusual stone around his neck burned in blue communion with the eyes that willed her to him. Her hands gripped his shoulders as her new husband reached out and cupped her soft breast, his thumb teasing the painfully erect nipple.

  “Please…” she moaned, leaning into his strength when he bent his head and let his mouth replace his hand to suckle at her straining breast. Elena’s head fell back and she would have fallen to her knees if Michel hadn’t reached out and swept her off her feet and into his arms.

  “Thank God,” she whispered against his seeking mouth, prompting a chuckle from the lips covering hers.

  When he laid her on the bed, Elena lay staring up at her husband, admiring his male beauty as he undid the ties of his breeches with hands that shook slightly. He turned his back towards her when he stepped out of his breeches. If he thought to ease her maidenly fears at the sight of his engorged male member, he was only minimally successful, because as soon as he turned to face her, Elena drew in a sharp breath.

  Michel saw the fear return to his bride’s eyes, but he was losing the battle with his failing patience. It had taken him almost all of his carefully honed discipline just to get his young bride into his bed. Now as he gave into the urge to cover her soft, silky flesh with his hard frame, he didn’t bother to disguise his need or his groan of longing when she squirmed beneath his weight. When she tried to push against his chest with her puny strength, he nearly laughed, wondering if she truly believed he would deny himself now, after his epic struggle with his self-control. He bent his head and let himself feast on her soft skin.

  “Michel?” At the sound of the worry in her voice, he slipped one hand between their joined bodies and found the damp flesh between her legs. She gasped at his boldness, and tried to push his hand away from her heat. When he ignored her paltry attempt to dislodge him, he pushed one finger inside her heat to stroke, to temp, to tantalize until his bride cried out and lifted her hips against his stroking hand. Soon, it had to be soon, he promised himself as he continued to awaken Elena to the depths of her feminine passion, hoping to drown out her fear with the same overwhelming need for completion that was driving him. When she began to tighten around him, clench his finger deep inside her and rock her hips against his stroking rhythm, something inside of him snapped.

  He ignored her cry of protest when he removed his hand and he poised his straining manhood at her moist opening. “Elena, you asked me to teach you to please me.”

  “Yes.” Her soft eyes locked with his, drawing him deeper beneath the spell of her feminine appeal.

  “Don’t fight me, love. Open your legs for me.” He waited for her to obey his command, and then added huskily, “That’s it, love. Now put them around me and draw me close to you.”

  He waited for her soft legs to wrap around him, then he used his hand to ease himself into her. Elena closed her legs tighter around him in instinctive protest. Michel let himself sink deeper into her damp heat and bent his head to capture her lips as he came up against the barrier of his bride’s virginity. He coaxed her response to his kiss by sinking his tongue deep into her welcoming heat in an insistent rhythm she was no longer able to resist. She surrendered her weakening will to his stronger one, at the same time he buried himself deep into her virgin’s body, in a single stroke breaking through the barrier blocking his entrance.

  Their cries echoed in unison, his one of intense male satisfaction, hers in painful, tearful protest. Michel kissed her tears away, but he could no more stop his instinctive male response to her tender, pulsing femininity than he could prevent the pain he knew he was inflicting on her untried flesh. He let his instinct take over, and released his body’s natural urging. When Elena attempted again to push him off of her, he reached down one seeking hand to stroke the damp opening straining to accommodate his thrusting passion. Another cry echoed through his bride’s soft lips, this one not prompted by pain, but a never before experienced, intense, awed pleasure. Her hips lifted against his hand, then began moving in rhythm with his. His strong thrusts rocked the bed, until Elena, her young body responding to his demands with a will of its own separate from her mind’s direction, suddenly tightened around him and she screamed in awe of her first release.

  Michel finally let go of his discipline, of his control, of all the months of longing and denying himself, and let his own release roll through him, as with a loud groan of satisfaction, he poured himself into his young bride and then collapsed on top of her.

  The space of a breath later, Elena poked him in the shoulder protesting his weight and Michel summoned the last of his strength and rolled off of her and collapsed onto his back. His lips curved in a smile when his bride, bereft of his warmth, scooted close against his side. He reached out one arm to draw her close against his side where she rested her cheek against his bare flesh. Michel bent to kiss the top of her head.

  “Michel?”

  He thought it was a little late for the anxiety he could hear in her hushed whisper. “Yes?”

  “Did I please you?”

  His shoulders shook with laughter at the worry in her voice. She hid her face against his side and he rolled over to face her and
lift her chin so he could peer down into her face. “How can you doubt my pleasure in you, Elena?”

  She blushed at his intense gaze trailing over her naked flesh and sighed happily, scooting closer against his side and resting her head back against his chest. “Is it all right if we go to sleep now?” She asked sleepily and he reached down to draw the quilt over them.

  “Yes.”

  “I love you, Michel,” she whispered on a drowsy sigh, leaving Michel to wonder if she was even aware of her innocent confession. He tightened his hold around her and let her vow settle around his heart and lull him into sleep.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Elena woke exactly where she dreamed of being, cuddled close on her husband’s broad chest, with his arms wrapped tight around her and the sound of his heart beating steadily beneath her ear. She raised her head for a moment, just to ascertain she was really in his chambers and she hadn’t dreamed the events of the previous night. Assured by her quick inspection, she dropped her head back to his chest, settled herself to fit more closely against his muscular frame, and then sighing contentedly, closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep, her fingers tracing little idle designs on his naked flesh.

  Beneath her, Michel gritted his teeth against the temptation of his wife’s stroking fingers, and when he was convinced she had fallen back asleep, he gripped her hand to cease her restless stroking. She shifted again in her sleep, curling her silken flesh more closely against him, her soft middle cradling his morning erection. His still surprisingly innocent bride had no apparent apprehension of the danger she was in. Her absolute trust in him and his control where she was concerned disturbed him somewhat.

  He knew when she woke fully she would be painfully sore from their activities of the previous evening. He’d been less than gentle when he initiated her into her more intimate duties of being his wife. Yet her virgin’s flesh had served his pleasure well and now he fought the same fierce battle with his discipline that he engaged in last night. He would have thought the satisfaction he found in her arms and between her soft thighs would have eased his lust somewhat, but contrarily, the memories of their wedding night appeared to be having the opposite effect.

  A more considerate husband would leave his young bride to sleep the morning away and allow her to begin to regain her strength from the damaging fears that had pressed in upon her from all sides over the past uncertain months since the inception of her uncle’s illness. Michel accepted without being too heavily burdened by the guilt such an admission should cause his conscience that he was obviously not the considerate husband he conjured in his musings to compare himself with, because he had no intention of wasting the opportunity presented him to be alone with his lovely bride and satisfy his body’s urgent promptings. And if his young bride squirmed in his arms just one more time in an attempt to settle herself more comfortably against his naked, burning flesh, he wasn’t even going to be considerate enough to wake her up before he spread her legs and thrust his burning member into her tight, damp heat.

  Michel drew in a shuttering breath in an attempt to gather the quickly shredding tatters of what was once his unassailable self-discipline, amazed that it was his innocent little bride who was making such a mockery of all of his previous, preciously held assumptions about the strength of his control over his natural male lusts. Elena’s pure trust in him, rather than serving to strengthen his discipline where she was concerned had the opposite effect of stripping him bare, so he was forced to scramble to summon even the paltriest defense to ward off succumbing completely to her captivating bewitchment.

  He always believed he would choose a wife who possessed his twin’s bold spirit. It came as a complete surprise to him to discover he preferred for his life’s mate Elena’s gentle nature and more subdued beauty. Everything about Melissa was larger than life, her stunning beauty, her outrageous opinions, the way she loved, her refusal to back down in the face of even the most reasonable challenge. He loved his twin, but surprisingly he discovered he did not wish to engage in the same daily battle with his wife that he contested with the other half of himself for the majority of his life. His lips curved upward in astonished relief that he was not to be faced with the prospect of doing so.

  Thinking of Melissa’s new husband, he nodded in silent admiration of his brother-in-law’s bolder spirit. Luke appeared quite content with the expectation that he would spend his life attempting to bring Melissa’s bold spirit to heel, as if he looked forward with great anticipation to the daily wrangling he would be forced to endure. A battle Michel compared to the one he had often contested with one of the wild Salusian stallions he discovered early in life he had a natural skill in training. Hardly surprising he possessed such a talent. Hadn’t he been forced to acquire a soft hand with a wild spirit from the moment of his birth every time he attempted to squelch one of his twin’s hare-brained schemes?

  His gentle bride stirred again and all thoughts of his wild twin fled his mind, as his body’s insistent prodding took on fresh urgency. His arms tightened their hold around her clinging softness as he plotted his strategy to break down her shy defenses against his masculine passion. He did not think he was up to a repeat of the test of his control required of him on his wedding night. His lips lifted into a happy smile when he realized he was well ahead of his first night as a married man. His wife was already naked in his bed and in his arms, and seemed very content to remain there for the rest of the day. Michel decided he could work with that.

  Grinning at the foolish thought, he smoothed his bride’s waist-length hair in long even strokes down her back, pausing now and again to untangle the silken strands from his rough treatment of the previous evening. His sleeping bride’s only response to his initial for foray was to sigh contentedly beneath his hands and snuggle closer against his chest. Michel gripped his wife’s hips and shifted her position slightly so he was poised at the entrance to her woman’s heat. Elena moaned softly in response to his tentative probing. His hands cupped her fleshy backside and squeezed gently. She moaned again and this time when she pressed herself closer against his him, his erect manhood was surrounded by her soft skin. He felt his bride’s breathing quicken in drowsy anticipation and felt his own ramp up in response.

  He slid his hand up along her finely curved back and brushed the sides of her full breasts pressed against his chest, before sliding one hand between their bodies to tease her nipple erect. A soft cry escaped through his bride’s parted lips and she turned her face against his chest to nuzzle his naked flesh. Michel swallowed his own groan of longing as Elena’s lips closed around his own male nipple and teased it erect with her tongue. Just when he thought he couldn’t wait another moment, Elena lifted her head from his naked flesh and stared up at him with a longing she made no attempt to disguise.

  “Michel, do you think we could…is it too soon for us to…”

  In response to her hesitant question, he gripped her hips and urged her over his pulsing manhood. She threw her head back in abandon and rose over him to straddle his hips, her head bent close so her long hair enclosed them behind a silken curtain. He grasped the back of her head and pulled her down to him before capturing her lips in searing kiss at the same moment he thrust into her.

  If his bride felt the pain of his entry she gave no indication of it. Instead, she sat up and rocked over him, thrusting her hips forward and her head back. Michel cupped her tantalizing breasts above him and lifted his head to close his mouth around one tempting offering. Elena moaned urgently at his attention and Michel quickened his powerful thrusts, driving her closer and closer to the edge, until on a stunned cry she tightened around him and then spent, collapsed against his chest.

  Michel rolled her over until his very satisfied, but still drowsy wife lay on her back staring dreamily up into his face. Entranced, he bent and reclaimed the lips she opened eagerly for him, responding to his desire with a wild abandon he would never have dreamt lay hidden within her. Unleashing the full force of his passion at her
eager response, he sought his own satisfaction in her welcoming heat, rocking the bed with the power of the rhythm he set and capturing Elena’s hands and holding them over her head so she lay completely defenseless beneath him and at the mercy of his masculine desire.

  She offered no protest to being held captive beneath him. Instead she linked her fingers with his and clung to him while he took his fill of her.

  “Michel…” she whispered his name on an awed cry and he paused for a moment in his pursuit of his own release from the driving, relentless urging of his body’s passion to watch her deep brown eyes glaze over and she surrendered to him all she guarded within her to give. She cried out again as he drove into her a final time, clinging desperately to his restraining hands. Helpless to contest his effect on her, Elena arched beneath him and gave herself completely over into his care. Michel watched awed by the depths of her trust in him, by her complete surrender to his thrusting passion. To a man whose faith was so recently tested by the false pledge of loyalty by one who knelt before him and then drove his betrayer’s blade into his king’s back, Michel was not certain how to reconcile the darkness that dwelt in the hearts of men with the purity of Elena’s innocent faith in him. Abandoning his struggle to resolve in his mind the evidence of the disparate natures of men and women he released the desperate hold he maintained over his own passion and poured himself into his wife’s welcoming young body.