by Starla Kaye
“Yes. Fine.” Still, he couldn’t battle down the terror he felt at the thought of…
Distracting him from his troubled thoughts, she tugged him down so she could whisper in his ear. “You may ‘burn my sweet butt’ when I am well, Your Grace. For being foolish enough to fight marrying you for so long.”
Her soft breath sent shivers through him. He ached to make love to her, to make her his. “You may count on that, my love,” he whispered back. He dared to give her a quick kiss before straightening again.
When he glanced at the others, he was almost certain they had all heard their quiet exchange. Catherine and Abigail were blushing and smiling at the same time. Her brothers struggled to not laugh, looking pleased as well. And Edmond simply nodded approval.
After a second, Edmond said, “Shall we have the ceremony here, Your Grace? As soon as the banns can be read again?”
Blaine looked at Ashlynn, felt love for her squeezing his heart. “I have a special license to wed your troublesome daughter as soon as she agrees. Send for your local priest. I would marry her today, if possible.”
“Today?!” Ashlynn gaped at him, sitting up, only to wince and settle back against the pillows. He frowned in worry, but she ignored that. “I look awful. I need to—”
“You look perfect to me.” With that said, he turned to the others. “Send for the priest.”
***
“I pronounce you man and wife,” Father Andrews said in finality.
Propped against a stack of pillows, Ashlynn smiled at the elderly, heavily wrinkled man who looked relieved and more than a bit awkward. He had been located in less than an hour after Blaine had requested him. He’d rushed here, clearly having worried at the urgency and mystery in the message he’d received. To say he’d been shocked at being asked to perform a sudden wedding ceremony was putting it mildly. But her duke would have no questioning. It would be done.
And so it had. She felt quite dazed by all that had happened in such a short time since Blaine and her sisters had arrived. The strange words tumbled over and over in her head: man and wife. Why had she fought this for so long? So hard?
Her gaze slid to the tall, strikingly handsome man standing next to her. He held her hand with gentle strength. He loved her. She’d finally accepted what he’d been telling her all this time. And she loved him. There was no doubt in her mind any longer.
He leaned down to kiss her, much longer and much more passionately than was proper in front of the priest and her family. Her body complained at the way she strained up to meet him. But she refused to give into weakness. She kissed him back with every limited ounce of stamina she had left.
One of her brothers cleared his throat and finally Blaine gave a reluctant sigh and stood.
She put a trembling hand to her swelling lips. A glance at her sisters found them both quietly crying in happiness, she was certain. Her brothers standing beside her father, appeared thankful that it was done at last. She was no longer their worry. From now on it would be Blaine who watched over her, who would be the one to deal with “her penchant for getting into trouble,” as they called it. He would be the one to apply his hand to her bottom from time to time. Not something she cared to think about at the moment.
He glanced down at her, frowned at evidently noticing that she was tiring, and faced the others. “My wife needs to rest. I would ask that all of you leave now.”
“But…” Catherine started to protest. Then looked more closely at Blaine, blushed, and then shoved Abigail into movement. “Yes. Rest. Ashylnn needs to…rest.”
Within seconds it seemed her husband had basically shoved them all out of the room and locked the door. He turned back to study her, heat in his expression, regret as well. “I will not make love to you, My Lady.” He moved across the room, removing his clothing as he went, tossing it without concern to the floor. “But I will join you in bed. I will hold you in my arms.”
A thrill of eagerness shivered through her. She stared at him, treasuring each delicious inch he revealed. She imagined she was supposed to feel shy and uncomfortable about him disrobing in front of her. She didn’t. What she felt was a strong desire to run her hands over every inch of that fine flesh. To her disgust, she knew she didn’t have the strength for doing so. Stupid body! She must put all her determination into healing as quickly as possible.
He stopped beside the bed and carefully removed the extra pillows from behind her. His scent drifted over her and she was fascinated by the long, thick shaft dancing up at her. She started to reach for it, wanting to touch it, but he shook his head.
“No,” he gritted out. “I’m not strong enough for you touch my rod and not need to drive it into you.” He sucked in a breath and walked around to the other side of the bed. “I am worn out from traveling so hard and fast. Drained from worrying I might be too late in getting to you. All I want is to lie next to you and sleep.”
She was warm inside, experienced a tingling between her legs. She wanted him to drive into her…yet she knew she wasn’t up to it. And she knew he needed to rest as badly as she did. With a small sigh of disappointment, she forced herself to be content with just having him nestle against her side. Neither would be satisfied with more than simple touch this day.
***
Ashlynn snuggled against her husband of three days as the first rays of dawn seeped in through the half-open drapes of their bedroom. He mumbled, put a possessive arm over her, but didn’t fully awaken. Poor man was beyond exhausted. She smiled knowing that she was the cause of that. As it turned out, she was a very passionate woman, demanding, too. He’d had trouble keeping up with her desire for his body.
She smoothed her hand over his chest, fingered the sprinkling of hair, and played with one of his nipples. He hadn’t allowed her out of bed—except for her attending to her personal needs—just as the doctor had ordered. Not even for the wedding ceremony, which had been a bit annoying. But her new husband was a very determined man.
Determined in many, many ways…some of them quite imaginative. A pleasant recollection that made her smile, made her ache with an insatiable craving for him all over again.
He stirred a bit, but still didn’t come completely awake. He would, though. Soon. And he would be ready to grant her every decadent wish. She had many of those.
She heard the soft footsteps of the upstairs maids going down the hall about their business. No doubt her family was downstairs at breakfast by now. She hadn’t seen any of them for more than a few minutes each day since the rushed ceremony. Blaine had demanded almost all of her attention from the moment the priest had pronounced them man and wife. But she wasn’t complaining.
At least until he pulled her on top of him and held her in place with his hands on her bottom. She winced as she leaned up enough to frown down at him. “I’m still rather sore, husband.”
He pushed his hard shaft at her belly, grinned wickedly. “I have been fairly determined with making love to my beloved wife.”
While her body wanted him within her once more, she gave him an annoyed look. “True enough. But it was the burning of my butt that I referred to.”
He had decided last night that she since she was well enough to make such long and wild love with him, she was ready for the spanking he’d promised her. He hadn’t held back. Fortunately her family had gone to a neighbor’s house for the evening. Fortunately the servants slept in another wing of the sprawling Payton House. He’d let her know the full extent of his displeasure for putting them both through so much stress and aggravation before consenting to become his wife. He’d been quite thorough and she’d cried herself to sleep…in his arms.
“I will not apologize for—”
“Nor will I ask you to do so.” She wiggled to sit up and flinched as her tender bottom met his strong, muscled thighs. “You spanked me. It is over with, as far as I am concerned.”
His eyes darkened and he drew in a shuddery breath, reaching up to cup her breasts. “What does my naughty wife wish no
w? I can see mischief sparking in your eyes.”
She wriggled further back down his legs, took gentle hold of his cock, and smiled at him. “I was thinking about…” Then she decided to just do it. She’d wanted to try this sinfully interesting thing she’d once read about.
As she lowered her head, her long hair draping around her, he groaned, “You…you need not…” Then when she covered him with her mouth, he sucked in a deep breath and blew it out on a sigh. “Oh, dear God!”
With a swirl of her tongue, she looked up and saw the pure tortured pleasure in his expression. He had his strengths—his natural dominant ways—to bring her to submission. But it appeared she, too, had strengths to bring this powerful duke to her submission. She experienced great delight at feeling him buck beneath her, at hearing him moan as he writhed at her mercy. Yes, she loved the Duke of Ashcroft with all her heart.
THE END