by Gayle Eden
“That makes all the difference.” She smiled at him and slid her legs high on his hips. “I know you want me. I want you. Take me, give me yourself…”
He tried to be easy. He could feel his heart nearly hammering out of his chest as he eased in as slow as possible. But she was snug and so hot, so silken and he had wanted her so long, that Lucas breached the hymen and shuddered before thrusting in and out on long stokes and losing himself in the feel of her.
He had only felt her slight jerk and moan when he breached, so he slowed, caught his breath and curled his body to kiss her, knowing from her kiss that she had wept.
He rasped her name and came with racking shudders, feeling the rush of pleasure from his feet to his head.
It was hours later. He had built up the fire and fetched warm water for them to bathe. She sipped wine and himself a brandy. They lay on the bed, looking at each other, faces, bodies, with their hands clasped between them on the bed.
Lucas finished his drink and gathered her against him, rising to smooth her hair back from her face. “Now, we make love.” He leaned down and kissed her tenderly, stroking her body while he bit at her lips and kissed from her ear to her throat.
Rena responded to him with the same passion, feeling the want in him that equaled her own, and stroking his body too, pleasured by the feel of his skin, the heat of him, and the sensual look in his violet eyes.
This time as he covered her, she kissed him, laved his chest and it was he who muttered and murmured, and breathed hot and heavy as he sank himself into her moist sex. It was a bit feverish, slightly rough in the most sexual way. At some point they realized how matched, how perfect, how wonderfully attuned they were to their own sensuality and to each others.
“Lucas…” she moaned and her fingers dug into his shoulders.
“Rena.” He gazed down at her flushed face and moist parted lips, the glitter in her eyes. His body was hot and tight, his hungers and pleasure racing through him like lightening.
He moved in and out, stroking her, stroking himself with her heat, until the climax stole his breath from his lungs. Afterward he held her, and brought her pleasure to completion, reveling just as much in her climax as his own.
They dozed for an hour before arising and dressing. She walked him to the door, sometime in the morning hours, they stood in that foyer, holding each other.
“I got my Christmas wish,” she then told him what she had whispered in the coach that night.
“As did I.” He straightened and gazed at her. “I don’t even want to leave you now.”
“Will you be able to get a special license?”
“I will get one.” He nodded. “But if you want a formal wedding, Rena...”
“I want you. Forever,” she repeated. “Merry Christmas, Lucas.” Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him and then whispered in his ear. “Soon… make it soon.”
“Merry Christmas.” He held her tightly. “I will make it scandalously soon.” He laughed.
When he released her and left, Rena fairly floated up the stairs. She fell into bed and slept nearly the whole day, to awaken rather roughly by her brother.
“Get up, my girl.” He sat on the side of the bed grinning.
She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. “What?”
He laughed. “The downstairs parlor is full of people. Including your future groom.” He stood and pulled her out of bed and set her on her feet. “Polly has your bath ready, your gown laid out.”
She blinked. “Now. I’m getting married now?”
“Yes, dear girl. You should have seen Lucas. He has quite left society with their mouths hanging open. He’s…well, he has arranged everything. Even a honeymoon somewhere warm he said. Now go. Don’t keep the man waiting.”
She went, and in a daze bathed, had her hair done, was gowned in ivory silk and raced down to find the parlor indeed full, including Jerome, a couple of dukes, two viscounts, her brother, and the beaming face of her aunt, the duchess.
Then her eyes found Lucas, who stood by the Christmas tree, wearing formal black and white. He was smiling, his eyes shimmering with emotion, and he held his hand out toward her.
Rena walked to him and took it, looking up and finding her future in his gaze, a wonderful life of love and laughter, Christmases that would remind them of this very special one.
Lucas saw there all that made him set the city on its heels and had him pounding on doors like a fool, rushing in his house and telling his staff to prepare for his bride.
He saw life and love and someone who would give everything meaning, and he saw all he had wanted and asked for years, what he asked for this Christmas; the woman of his dreams. Overwhelmed he cupped her face and kissed her passionately.
“Good God,” the old duchess proclaimed loudly. “I have gone completely deaf. Why, I did not even hear the vows.”
Once the laughter died down and the couple stopped kissing; Bram assured her that the ceremony was just beginning.
Much to Verena and Lucas’s amusement, the preacher yelled the ceremony toward the old duchess, until the kissing part came again. They were still kissing when Bram herded everyone into the dining room.
Jerome put in as he saw the couple slip out and into the earl’s coach later, “Did he really ask for her hand?”
“Yes.” Bram stood by his elbow. “He gave such a moving speech that even I…began to consider there might be something to this forever love thing.”
Jerome shoved his brandy into Bram’s hand. “Drink this. It will cure any such afflictions, old man. In fact, I am going to find the rest of the bottle.”
The End
Visit the author’s Smashwords page at
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/authorgayleeden
Authors note:
As to the decorating of Christmas trees in this story, I used this reference link; http://www.christmasarchives.com/trees.html, taking the liberty to make use of the information provided here that "The British public were not fond of the German Monarchy, so did not copy the fashions at Court, which is why the Christmas Tree did not establish in Britain at that time. A few families did have Christmas trees however, probably more from the influence of their German neighbours than from the Royal Court."