But he saw her frown, her features tighten in sadness. Then she turned over again, her back to him. “Goodnight, Chad.”
Several words crowded his mouth. He should have told her that he’d always want her. That her happiness was becoming more important than his own. But he’d never used any words like them before. He didn’t know how to say it and he didn’t trust himself to make good on the words.
When had anyone ever shown him how?
So instead, he pulled her close to his front again. He still wanted to touch her, hold her close. “Goodnight.”
Chapter Ten
Abigail woke before the first rays of the sun and stared into the semidarkness. She’d had her wedding night the night before and yet…she was most definitely and completely a maiden. She restrained a sigh as she looked over her shoulder at the man curled around her body.
She had to confess, she’d slept amazingly well snuggled against him.
He was hard and strong, but warm too, and something about his weight made her relax completely. His presence in her bed gave her a sense of security and safety she’d never experienced before.
She thought back to their last exchange and cringed.
He’d already been hinting that they shouldn’t be intimate, but she’d been the one to really end their evening. She wasn’t entirely certain why she’d said goodnight except that she didn’t yet understand how to reach the future she craved for them. She wanted him to be content in their match, to show him about love. But how did she go about that if he left her bed and returned to his wicked ways?
She wiggled out of his hold and crossed the room to bank the fire. The air was cool, but she was still toasty from the night before, and once the flames rose up, the room heated quickly. Slipping to the table, she pulled a brush out from the bundle of personal items and unbraided her hair, brushing out the locks so that she might pin them in a simple chiffon. They were likely to reach his home today. She’d meet his staff and she’d not do so looking unkempt.
With that in mind, and despite the lack of a mirror, she reached for some pins and twisted the first hair into place.
The bed squeaked behind her, and she heard his feet hitting the floor. Tension knotted her insides. She knew he was nude. She’d seen him, felt the evidence of this fact all night long, the hard length of him pressed into her backside. But she didn’t look as he crossed the room and pulled on his breeches.
She wanted to. But she didn’t.
She’d caught a glimpse of his manhood the night before. It was…as large as the rest of him. Certainly, she’d been a bit afraid but also excitement had made her ache when she’d looked at him.
Abigail didn’t need that now. She had to face the day as a…well…a virgin bride.
She let out a small sigh as she twisted the next piece of hair. “Good morning.”
He didn’t answer and instead crossed over to her in the chair. With quick nimble fingers he stopped her hand from pinning the lock and with his other hand, pulled out the pin she’d already put into place.
She opened her mouth to ask what he was doing when he dropped his face to her hair, his cheek landing on the top of her head even as his fingers buried in her long tresses. “Your hair is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she said, pleasure zipping through her at his touch even as he moved the hair, making it tickle her back.
He slid the scruff on his jaw down her head and then he swept the hair to the side, kissing the shell of her ear. A shiver slid down her body despite the heat of the room. He kissed lower, his lips brushing down the back of her neck.
Her night rail was sleeveless, and he trailed his fingers down the skin of her arm, raising goose pimples all along the flesh. When his hand reached hers, he laced his fingers into hers . “How did you sleep?”
That made her smile. “Very well. I was the warmest I’ve been in months.”
He chuckled at that, the sound vibrating against her skin as he kissed the place where her neck and shoulders met.
“I’m going to go downstairs to secure our breakfast. I’ll give you a few minutes of privacy?”
She gave a quick nod and with a last kiss, he straightened again.
She turned to look back at him, catching his grimace before he turned back to his clothing.
Why did he look upset? Was he disappointed about how their wedding night had gone?
She was disappointed, he must be. He actually knew what they’d missed. Or did he not care that he hadn’t bed her?
He finished dressing and started for the door. “I’ll be right back.”
She nodded as she began pinning her hair again. What if he didn’t care? Did he already have a paramour? Theirs was not a match of love or even affection. She was a means to an end. What if he never planned to bed her?
But surely he must want an heir?
Swallowing, she tried to calm her spinning thoughts. She meant to teach him about love, and these doubts weren’t helping.
Quickly, she pinned her hair, washed and dressed in the new gown.
She’d debated for a moment, donning the brown dress. She understood insecurity. Better than many. It was difficult to be shown up by people one loved the most.
But she wanted to make a good first impression today and she wished for her husband to find her attractive.
She pulled the covers back over the bed and then sat down, folding her hands to wait. It didn’t take long before Chad returned with a tray.
They ate in relative silence, but Abigail gave her husband several long glances. Surely he did want her, didn’t he? Why else would he touch her as he had this morning?
What a long day it was going to be in the carriage. She tried to hide a sigh. Was consummating a marriage always this complicated?
* * *
Chad loaded Abigail into the carriage, snapping the door closed as he stood outside.
“What are you doing?” Vanity asked behind him.
He pivoted, glaring at his friend. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“I wasn’t sneaking. You just weren’t listening. You’re not riding with Lady Blasphemy?”
“Don’t call her that,” he said through clenched teeth.
Vanity raised a brow. “Married life agrees with you.”
“Fuck off,” he grouched, turning back toward the driver’s seat. Vanity had clearly noticed his foul mood.
“You know.” Vanity followed. “I haven’t actually heard you curse in days. Strange. Usually your language is a great deal more colorful.”
Chad ran a hand through his hair, wanting to tell his friend to leave him alone. He didn’t wish to share that he hadn’t touched his wife. That wasn’t true, actually. He’d touched her. Held her sleeping body close all night. She’d instantly fallen asleep in his arms, but he’d lain awake marveling at the soft press of her and the way her sweet-scented hair tickled his nose.
He never slept with women after they’d been intimate, and he understood why. Spending the night with Abigail had been so…personal.
And then this morning…
Her hair had been so thick and lush, her skin like pearl in the morning sun. It had taken everything in him not to strip her down and toss her onto the bed.
But.
He scrubbed his scalp. But she’d not been given any choices or any romance. He needed to court her now. Slowly build physical intimacy with a languid seduction that gave her choices.
It was a good plan. He hated it.
“You can’t sit on the driver’s seat,” Vanity called behind him. “There’s only room for the driver and myself.”
He spun back, his lips thinning over his teeth. “It’s my carriage.”
Vanity crossed his arms. “You want me to ride inside? With your wife?”
Chad stopped for a second, realizing just how much of the situation Vanity understood. He could see Chad’s jealousy, his frustration. “I hate you.”
“Not true.” Vanity winked. Then he dropped his voice. “Now the next
town we stop in, get your wife a trinket.”
A trinket?
Of course he should get her a gift. Something larger than a trinket.
And he should ride with her too. Vanity was right, again.
But she was so tempting, and he wanted to do the right thing by her. He rubbed the back of his neck. It was going to be a long day.
He’d have to spend it staring at the woman he wanted more with each passing second. She was the one woman he should touch, his wife, and the very one he’d promised himself he wouldn’t.
Chapter Eleven
Abigail sat on the large bed, not sure quite what to do with herself.
It was late, they’d arrived after dark. She’d met the sparse staff, they’d all shared a simple meal, and now she’d come up to bed.
Unlike the inn, she had her own room. The hangings were old, and a bit worn, but still of good quality. And the place was clean.
Her own home had suffered when both her parents were gone so she didn’t mind. She fidgeted as she watched the connecting door. Tonight would finally be her wedding night. She gave a small shake of her head. Last night had been her wedding night but tonight…
She’d stripped off her clothes and undone her hair as she sat and waited. The fire was roaring but her skin still prickled. She debated climbing under the covers as she nibbled her lip. How long would she have to wait? Shifting again, a knock sounded at the connecting door.
“Come in,” she called and stood, her hands clasping in front of her.
Chad walked in the room, shirtless but still in his pants. The sight of his bare chest stole her breath as it always did. “Are you ready for bed?”
“Mostly,” she replied, twisting her hands. “You?”
“Mostly,” he answered, coming to stand in front of her. “Would you like me to help you into bed?”
She’d expected him to touch her hair as he’d done this morning, or perhaps kiss her bare shoulders again, or maybe hook an arm about her waist. He’d been politely distant all day and it filled her with discomfort that he was now. She didn’t like it. Not one bit. “Yes. Of course.”
He leaned over her then, pulling back the covers, and she slid between them as he pulled the covers up her body again. “You’re…” she started, sitting up again. He was still leaning over her and her face came within an inch of his. “You’re not in the bed with me.”
His brows lifted. “I’m aware.”
“But,” she softly replied as her brow crinkled. “I thought that tonight we’d…” What did she say exactly?
He clasped her cheek in his hand then. “We’ve rushed everything else. We don’t have to rush this.”
Oh. Oh, that was lovely. And so thoughtful. But disappointment slid down her spine… “But I rather like sleeping in bed with you.”
His eyes opened wider as his lips parted. “I liked sleeping in bed with you too.”
She scooted over and pulled the covers back, patting the now empty space. He didn’t move. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest.
She patted again.
“Abby,” he started, his voice a low rumble.
“Chad,” she answered, mocking his low tone.
“You said yourself that you wanted a partner for life, not a rake. Don’t you think it best we take some time to get to know one another? Figure out how to let those feelings grow?”
She scrunched up her nose. “That does sound very logical.”
He nodded. “I’m glad we agree.” And then he took a step back.
Abigail came up on her knees, the covers falling away. Several thoughts flitted through her mind at once. He’d been moving further from her all day. And her sisters, if they wanted something, they didn’t let it slip away, they pulled whatever they wanted close. Eliza would never allow her husband to go off and sleep in another bed.
But she did see the merit in his point. She’d thought the same.
“Chad,” she called, reaching out and trailing her fingers down his chest. “Don’t go. Not yet.”
“Abby,” he said, sounding half irritated and half… She cocked her head.
“We dashed out of the city for my safety. I’m not sure I want to be alone.” And then she scooted closer, as her hand explored the hard ridges of his stomach. She could actually see his man part growing thicker in his breeches. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.
“You’re safe here,” he said, but his voice had grown hoarse.
“I’d be even safer if you were here with me.” How could she lavish affection on him if he was off in his own room?
He hooked a hand about her waist then, pulling her close. “You’re the one who didn’t want me in bed last night.”
“That’s not true. I just wanted to know that you’d care for me.” And then she let her hand slide up his arms and across his big beautiful shoulders. They were so strong. “I told you this morning, I like sleeping against you.”
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he answered as she pressed to his chest.
“I don’t want to be your death,” she whispered softly. “In fact, I’m hoping to build a life.”
That seemed to be the final straw, and with a groan, he dropped his mouth to hers. The kiss wasn’t soft or tender and for a moment she worried she’d made a mistake. That she wasn’t fostering the sort of affection she’d hoped, but just fueling a rake’s passion. But then she forgot to care as his tongue licked at her lips.
She wrapped her arms about his back as he bent her backwards, his body pressing into hers. It was scorching, and wicked, and divine.
He buried his fingers into her hair, as he tasted her over and over and when she moaned into his mouth, he trailed one palm down her chest until he palmed one of her breasts. She arched into the touch, her nipple puckering under the rougher skin of his palm.
He answered by swiping a thumb across the sensitive flesh, and then he broke free of her mouth and dropped his lips onto the aching nub of flesh. Pleasure exploded inside her as she arched into him, wanting more.
She was still on her knees but in an instant, he had her in his arms and then flat on her back across the bed.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said against her, his hand sliding down her leg and then pulling up the hem of her night rail.
Tendrils of pleasure were spiraling through her as his hand glided up her leg. “I like your kisses.”
He chuckled as he began kissing, not toward her mouth but down her belly. “You’ll like these even more.”
What did he mean by that? But she didn’t ask as his fingers brushed the curls between her legs.
Her body jolted in pleasure and surprise.
He touched her again, lightly but with a more deliberate stroke and she shuddered with pleasure. Over and over his fingers glided over her most sensitive flesh making her squirm in pleasure. But then…
Pulling her night rail all the way up to her belly, he dropped his mouth to her most intimate area and as his tongue flicked out and touched her flesh, she forgot to breathe, pleasure radiating hot and sweet throughout her entire body.
* * *
He’d told himself that he would not touch her like this.
They were going to slowly build a relationship. But her hand had been stroking him and her eyes had been pleading and he found that he couldn’t deny her.
Not this. Maybe not anything.
And then he tasted her. Sweet, tangy musk filled his nostrils and he groaned in pleasure. He saw the darker skin of his hand against the pale flesh of her thighs and his cock twitched.
She was lovely. Everything about her appealed and he pulled one of his hands away to tug at his breeches.
Because at this rate, he wouldn’t need to bury himself inside her. He was liable to spill his seed right in his trousers.
Which he hadn’t done since the age of sixteen.
He reared up, tugging at her night rail even as he heard her make a whimper of protest. Which only made him surge with more passion. Her noise
s were divine.
And then she tugged too, and the fabric came sailing over her head and for the first time, he got to look at all of her. His wife.
Full, creamy breasts with pale pink nipples called to him. He reached out a hand, rubbing the globe before he tweaked the nipple. She arched into him again, her warm brown eyes hazy with lust.
His cock jumped again.
He let go to pull down his breeches and once he’d gotten them down around his thighs, he dropped to his knees again.
He’d give her pleasure. Because he liked pleasing her and he’d not deny her. But he wasn’t taking her maidenhead. Not yet. He’d do this right. Giving her choices. Seducing her over days or weeks if he had to.
And when he licked her again, she pushed into his mouth, her hands winding into his hair.
He kissed her again, working a rhythm even as he reached for his cock with his other hand. He was already leaking seed even as she pulled him tighter to her body.
He’d mostly stopped swearing since meeting her, but right now, he wanted to mumble a string of curses from here to next week because she was stripping him raw. And he wasn’t even inside her.
But her legs were over his back and she was making the most sensual little noises and…he used his free hand to press into her channel. She was tight and so wet, and she clamped around his finger.
He’d barely wondered how his cock would fit in her when she exploded around him, crying out his name in a keening moan.
And that undid him.
The sound of his name on her lips like that. He exploded too. Onto the floor.
He kissed her until he was certain she’d received every ripple of pleasure and then he climbed into the bed with her, tucking her against him.
She curled into him, soft as pudding as she molded to his side, her head fitting into the hollow of his neck.
She murmured softly, “I had no idea. No wonder women love rakes so much.”
He chuckled at that, trailing his hand up her back. Rakes did not spill their seed on the floor to protect their wives’ sensibilities. “I’m happy to serve my lady.”
Baron of Blasphemy Page 7