Nay, she was wrong. The stroking and twirling of Garrick’s tongue around each peak felt right, wonderful and achingly familiar. It had been so long since he touched her like this and she groaned with renewed pleasure. All the while, he hummed, letting her know that his feasting was as pleasurable to his tongue as it was to be tongued.
Curious, she lowered her eyes to watch. His dark head was framed by her breasts. Alternately, he stroked her breasts with the tip of his tongue, laving and sucking her nipples and the soft skin beneath each globe.
Releasing one tight nipple, he rose from the bed and embraced her. His arms about her were steadying, the hairs of his forearms tickling ever so softly. A few locks of his hair spilled over her shoulder, falling to her waist and tangling with her red tresses. Garrick’s scent flooded her senses, enhancing her own almond fragrance and the tingle of spices on her tongue. They weren’t kissing outright, yet she could still taste him.
Their lower bodies were connected as closely as possible, but there was still room to allow Garrick to pay homage to her breasts. Their hips and thighs touched, his manhood throbbed against her upper thigh, seeking a response from her womanhood. Her womb melted a little more with each flick of his tongue and caress of his hand down her spine.
“So sweet, like berries,” he praised, lifting his head just enough to blow hot air upon the moistened tip of her breast.
“Oh my,” she cried out, startled when he turned his head and caught the nipple between his teeth. “Be careful.”
“You know I’ll not bring you pain.” He captured the nipple and sucked long and deep.
“Garrick!” Loving what he was doing, Aisley grasped his shoulders. Garrick’s rumbling teased the very core of her being. The tug and pull of his warm, wet mouth was sheer bliss. The scrape of his teeth had her writhing and moaning aloud, demanding more as her heart pounded like a wild thing.
Garrick’s love was all she’d hoped it would be, and more. The glimpses he’d bestowed on her previously were to be treasured, but right now he was showing her the power of their love and passion, a passion that did not have to be restrained.
Every part of her was aware of him. He was ravishing, yet mindful of her inexperience, gentle, yet confident. She suspected there was much more to learn after their first night together as man and wife.
“Much more, lay back, you’ll like what I have in mind,” he said, aiding her in settling on her back with her head toward the footboard. A wicked gleam caught his eye as he shifted to reach his mysterious table.
“Are you certain you wouldn’t like to remove your breeches?” she asked.
“I will when it’s time. This will warm you a bit.” Revealing a small flask, he tipped a small portion of its contents into his palm.
Carefully, he put the flask aside. Aisley waited, a little nervous, but he eased her concerns when oil dripped to her belly. Slowly, with only the tips of his big, calloused fingers, Garrick worked the oil from her navel to her breasts.
“That’s nice,” she praised.
“It gets better,” he promised.
“Garrick, something’s happening,” she realized aloud. She wasn’t imagining the heating of her skin. The oil, scented with something vaguely familiar, grew warmer as she breathed. “What is the scent? It’s nice, but the oil feels warm and it’s getting hotter as you rub it into my skin.” Oil could be a slippery mess, but Garrick’s giant hands were weaving magic, leaving her feeling soft, scented and amazingly feminine.
“It’s cassia,” he told her. “It may remind you of cinnamon. They’re similar in scent, though cassia is a bit coarse and has to be ground very fine. The recipe was handed down to my father from my grandfather. He told my father to use the oil only with his mate, for it is regarded as part of the mating ritual of panthera pardus Abcynians.”
“In all honesty, I like the traditions of your ancestors,” Aisley said, pleased that Garrick shared the tradition with her.
Even as she spoke, she realized it was nearly impossible to remain still. Her hips began to shift in time with Garrick’s caressing fingertips. Though his hands were a bit rough and abrasive from callouses, she reveled in the bold strokes of his fingers over her breasts, shoulders, arms and thighs. It seemed as if no part of her would go untouched by his hands and she wondered where he would caress next.
Garrick pulled back a little, his hands stilling at the dip between her hips and thighs. His fingertips grazed the tender skin of her inner thigh, causing her to arch into him. “Do not fear what I’m about to do,” he forewarned.
A moment later, he parted her knees, settling between them. Aisley stared as he leaned forward. His hair fell about them, momentarily blocking her sight. Brushing the length back over his shoulders, Garrick kissed her breasts, her stomach, repeating the same path he’d taken with his oiled hands, further enhancing the heated pleasure she was feeling throughout her body.
“Touch me, Aisley, please.” She needed no further coaxing. Smoothing her hands along his shoulders, seeking his spine, she relished the chance to pleasure him. “Ah, that’s right, touch me.”
Realizing he needed more, Aisley used her left hand to caress his bare rib cage and coaxed him to lean back so she could reach his chest. The springy hair defining his chest caught her attention, inviting her to explore his nipples, his abdomen and finally his navel.
“Take me in your hand,” he husked, looking at his tented breeches.
“Are you certain?”
Garrick grasped her hand and pulled her a fraction closer, wrapping her fingers around his shaft. Even though he was still partially clothed, she could feel the heat of him pulsing against her hand. “I am certain. Feel how I want you.”
Intrigued with the power of touch, Aisley stroked and caressed him through the fabric. She wished he’d remove his breeches soon. They’d become an obstacle she was tempted to shred. Mayhap if she conveyed her thoughts, he would comply.
“Not yet,” he warned. He shifted some and moved her hand, reclaiming his position between her spread thighs and sending kisses down her abdomen.
“You said that before.”
“Patience,” he urged, nipping at her hip. “Or you could miss this…” he hinted, his lips moving to her inner thigh where he nibbled gently with the very edge of his teeth
“Nay,” she bucked.
“Aye!” Purposefully, he positioned himself to keep her still. From between her legs, he looked up, his head a dark contrast to her fair skin, and she didn’t dare look away. Even in such a position, Garrick Forrester looked like a conqueror and her womanhood clenched in anticipation of how he would claim her.
“Garrick, should I let you do this?”
“Nothing we do in this bed is wrong. Trust me, my love.”
“I do trust you,” she replied, easing back. She loved him. If she could trust him with her heart, she could trust him with this.
Garrick widened her thighs and lowered his head, blowing hot breath upon her woman’s entrance. His breath awakened a secret knot, inviting it to unfurl as a bud bloomed beneath the morning sun.
“All mine,” he murmured, whispering more hot air across her mound, his mouth very near.
It was intimate and wonderful to watch Garrick. His tongue darted outward, tracing the knot of flesh he’d awakened with his breath and Aisley bucked to receive him. Softly, gently, he stroked her intimately with the tip of his clever tongue, one of his hands pushing her back down to the bed and holding her still for his seductive ravishment.
His other hand caressed from her hip to inner thighs. Abrasive, yet gentle, with only a hint of oil left, his palm smoothed upward, inward and, finally, to her very entrance. His tongue twirled over her bud, licking the swollen folds of her entrance before easing back and positioning one of his fingers to slide inside her. There he thrust his hand slowly, preparing her with oil, her feminine dew and the wetness of his tongue.
“Aisley, I cannot hold back much longer,” Garrick pronounced, suddenly sitting up. H
is face was flushed, though he still looked regal and fine. “I’m sorry, I tried. Bloody hell, woman, I want you.”
“You don’t have to wait, Garrick. Take me.”
To her relief, he removed the rest of his clothes and threw them on the floor. Fully naked, he was magnificent. The candlelight nearby reflected the glow of his panthera’s mark, which reflected so strongly now, the entire bed seemed to be afire.
Still lying where Garrick had settled her, Aisley waited to see if they would shift. She wanted to touch him and explore the leopard’s face on his back with her fingertips. She already knew the mark was warm to the touch, but she wondered if it could burn. But to her surprise, he stole a pillow and stuffed it beneath her hips, lifting them before positioning himself between her legs.
“Don’t hurt me,” she murmured, bracing herself. As a midwife, she’d heard women complain about the discomfort they’d first felt when their husbands took their maidenhead, especially during childbirth when they would blame all their pain on the men. She didn’t want to feel anything but pleasure with Garrick.
“I will be as gentle as I can,” he promised, soothing her with his gruff-spoken voice. Together their combined rumbles shook the massive bed, easing her momentary fears. “I love you, Aisley. You need not fear our joining. Our first time together will be good if you allow me to guide you through it.”
“I offer myself to you,” she responded. “I know you will take care of me.”
Anxious and needful of something she couldn’t name, Aisley welcomed the way Garrick folded himself around her, rubbing against her, chest to breasts, hips to hips, knees to calves. She felt protected, safe, consumed by his massive body, yet loved!
“While I’m inside of you, we will mate,” he said. “It takes a bite from both of us. Do not be afraid, even if the bite stings at first, all right?”
“Aye, I trust you.”
“Good,” he praised, leaning close for a long, thorough kiss.
Their kiss mimicked the instinctive, primal dance of mating, their tongues parrying and thrusting, their hips grinding in unison. Aisley knew precisely when she was ready to accept him, and with the touch of his hands on her knees, she bent them slightly and held steady as his manhood nudged inside of her.
Wanting to feel him, she adjusted her hips to accept more. Garrick pushed in further. “Ah love, you feel so warm and soft, like a wet, silken glove. I need to claim you,” he admitted as he thrust, tearing her virgin’s sheath with a bittersweet sting. At once he stilled, staring down to catch her wincing.
His jaw tight and his eyes half closed, he remained still. “I’m sorry, Aisley. This will never hurt again. I promise.”
“I’m fine, Garrick. Don’t stop. Just as the biting might hurt the first time, the pleasure will far exceed the minor sting I’ve just felt.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am. Please, I need you so much.”
“You have me, you always have,” he said, withdrawing and thrusting, slow and deep.
Accepting Garrick’s loving, Aisley moaned at the feel of him sliding in and out. Gasping at the rightness of it all, she parted her knees a bit further and arched, encountering the full measure of his prowess. Again he withdrew, thrust and withdrew, repeating his movements with a gentle cadence. She moved her hips in unison with him, wanting more, demanding that he take her harder. His sudden deep thrust took her breath away as he entered her to the hilt and roared. His brow beaded with sweat, his arms trembled with his efforts to move slowly, yet Aisley wanted his release.
“Love me, Garrick, love me!” she called out, crying even louder when he answered as she wanted and took her even harder.
Mysterious as copulation had been to her until Garrick touched her, it felt both primitive and instinctive to respond to every thrust of his hips and welcome the length of his manhood. They kissed, caressed, touched and loved. She felt sensuous as she arched and flexed. Her hands found his buttocks, kneading the taut flesh and smoothing down his slightly hairy thighs to the backs of his knees.
Garrick grunted, lowering his head to her throat. “Now we become mated,” he said. “Bite after I do, it matters not where.” Laving her pulse with his tongue, he pressed a kiss to her skin and bit hard.
“Oh my,” she mumbled. Finding the sting rather sensual, she kissed his shoulder and licked him twice. As she bit, she was shocked to find her two canines lengthening enough to break his skin. Thinking she’d have to drink Garrick’s blood, she hesitated.
Nay, little one, do not take, give, the panthera within you will know what to do.
Hoping she understood, she said, I will give.
I will guard your heart for our eternity, Aisley. All I am, I give to you now because you are my mate and I am proud to love you.
As am I, Garrick Forrester, be assured that I will love you just as long. Upon her vow, spiced warmth flowed from the point of Garrick’s bite to her heart, filling her with his essence. Her leopard’s instinct responded and gave in kind, granting Garrick the right and privilege of guarding her heart, her love. She knew then that she was his mate and he was hers.
Garrick withdrew, licking the bite wound gently, and then he bit deep one more time, sending his essence from her heart to her womb. Pleasure swelled as his thrusts became urgent, his taste, scent and maleness surrounding her. Release crashed through her, sending wave upon wave of pleasure from her womb to her heart, where it beat in time with Garrick’s continued, forceful thrusts.
With each thrust, Aisley found herself longing to ignite again. In tune with her needs, Garrick’s hand eased between their entwined bodies. His forefinger slipped between the dewy folds of her womanhood and danced across the swollen, needful bud.
Breathing hard, she arched her hips, wanting him to carry her straight to heaven. With a harsh, sawing roar, he pushed his palm against her sensitive knot and plunged deep, holding himself still while she soared. Crying out at the beauty and passion she’d found in her mate’s arms, she wrapped him closer as he spent himself inside her body.
Unwilling to move too soon, Aisley hummed in pleasure and closed her eyes, welcoming the knowledge that Garrick Forrester, the Earl of Danford, was well and truly her husband, her lover and her mate.
Chapter Twenty
Reluctant to move, Garrick stirred slowly, enjoying the heat of Aisley’s warm, silken sheath for as long as she would permit. Bloody hell, she’d been everything he could hope for in a mate, sweet, innocent, ferocious at times and passionate. He’d never felt more like a man as he did when Aisley cried out his name and her inner muscles clenched around his shaft, draining him of his seed while they’d shared their essence.
Anticipating taking her again, he felt himself harden inside of her. But as much as he wanted her, he knew that his wife would need a little time to rest.
“Garrick,” Aisley whimpered, reminding him of his weight when she tried to scoot from beneath him.
“Don’t move, not yet. God’s teeth, you feel good.” He wanted to remain joined with her for as long as he could.
“Umm, I love being joined with you, Garrick, but you’re heavy.”
“Sorry, little one.” Moving off her, he appreciated the sight of her flushed body as they moved to recline upon the pillows. “Come and rest,” he invited, bringing her to lie against his chest.
“That was amazing,” she whispered. “Now we are truly mated and wed.”
“Now you are truly mine,” he replied.
As they rested, their bodies trembled with the distinctive panthera pardus rumble of contentment and pleasure. He’d never shared such an intimacy with another woman and was glad he’d found it with Aisley.
Shifting, she gasped and licked her lips. “Garrick…” Her soft voice trailed off when her eyes darted to his manhood. Twice she licked her full mouth, then nibbled her swollen lower lip, drawing his attention to how pretty and disheveled she looked. “Did I fail you? You’re still…umm…hard.”
“Aisley, dare not think such
a thing. You could never fail me. You were so sweet and responsive it took everything I had to make certain you found your release before I allowed my seed to fill your womb.”
“If that’s true, it was your doing, not mine.”
“Your passion is instinctive, never doubt that.”
To his pleasure, she laughed softly, her warm, naked body shaking against his. “Do you think we could mate again now? Since you’re ready, it seems a shame to waste the moment.”
Garrick smiled. “For your sake, it’s best to wait a bit.”
“If you say so,” she said. “Might I ask you something?”
“You needn’t ask.”
“How long will Lucien and Catarina remain in Danford?”
“Lucien would stay for as long as I asked. Catarina is anxious to return to their pride land.”
“I suspected as much. As helpful as Lady Hunter has been since her arrival, I’ve always felt as though she wanted to be elsewhere.”
Garrick agreed. Catarina came to Danford because her husband summoned her. She’d been devoted to chaperoning Aisley, but Catarina wanted to be with her mate and her children.
“You should let them go when they are ready,” Aisley said.
“I shall. My brothers intend to remain at the manor and act on my behalf while we are enjoying the first sennights of our marriage. A fortnight might be long enough for us to remain in seclusion.”
“A fortnight?”
“Didn’t you know? Aside from food, sustenance and baths, we are not leaving this chamber for any length of time. I’d originally asked for a sennight and my brothers promised two.”
“Angelica will need us.”
“In which case, we can visit Angelica every morning. Other than that, no one will see us.”
“The servants will see us.”
“I’ve told my chamberlain to leave us alone unless I call for him. He’ll inform your maid likewise.”
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