No Ordinary Groom

by Gayle Callen

  Will wanted to take a step back, but he knew that would be the wrong move. “I won’t make every decision for you when we’re married.”

  “But aren’t you already?”

  He opened his mouth, stunned, but nothing came out.

  “Don’t you see,” she said quickly, “you’ve decided everything. You and my father decided I should marry. You coerced me into traveling with you. You’re telling me how we’re going to live, picking out estates, making our wedding plans. I am willing to wager that you have already chosen our honeymoon destination.”

  He felt himself redden, and she only nodded.

  “Have you asked me anything? Have you included me in any of your plans?”

  “I’ve asked for your opinion on every estate we’ve visited.”

  “And nothing else,” she said.

  Now Jane was the one advancing, and he held his ground as she pointed at him.

  “I can’t live like that,” she said fiercely.

  He knew it was all true, everything she was accusing him of. He had never thought that in pursuing his dreams, he might be denying her hers. He felt a wave of tenderness move swiftly through him, followed by remorse at how selfish he’d been.

  He framed her face with his hands. “What do you want, Jane?”

  “Not my sister’s life,” she whispered. “Not my mother’s life. My life. I need excitement, Will. I crave adventure. I want to see new places and experience things I’ve never imagined.”

  And though part of him looked on in horror, wondering how he could satisfy her wishes, the other part was aroused by her love of adventure. He was relieved that she wouldn’t be disgusted by the things he’d had to do in the name of duty. She would take him for what he was.

  “Marriage is not what you think,” he said hoarsely, sliding one hand down her back and pulling her against him, letting his need for her spark into flames. “There is one way I can make you see that a man and woman can intimately share excitement beyond mere dreams.”

  He pressed a kiss to her cheek, to the corner of her eye, to the edge of her mouth.

  “Let me show you, Jane,” he whispered against her lips.

  Chapter 21

  Will was right, Jane thought wildly, sliding her hands up his back to mold herself even closer to him. She would make her own decisions, regardless of society’s conventions. She wanted this—she wanted him, and every other decision could wait.

  His big hands spread across her back and down to her hips. Without all her many layers of clothing, she could feel him knead her backside. Against her stomach she felt that part of him she’d only seen on statues, so different from her own body, so enticing. She knew little about lovemaking, and she wanted to know it all.

  Her head dropped back and he kissed her then, deep explorations of her mouth that made her desperate for his touch. She tasted him, suckled him, and caught his head with her hand so she could push her tongue deep inside him. He groaned against her mouth.

  “Stop me now,” he murmured, pressing kisses to her chin, her jaw, then down behind her ear. “If you’re going to, do it now, don’t let me—”

  “I won’t stop you,” she gasped, her hand threaded deep in his thick, brown hair. “Show me, Will, show me everything.”

  He shuddered in her arms, and she marveled at how her passion was reciprocated. She needed something only he could give, wanted the adventure of intimacy with him more than she’d thought possible. She would have fallen if he hadn’t held her so close.

  She let herself sink in his arms, arched against him, her head thrown back in exultation. Her dressing gown slid to the floor, then his lips skimmed across the bare hollow of her throat to the thin fabric of her nightdress. As he pressed his face between her breasts, she wrapped her arms about his head, holding him there, desperate for the magic he could work with his mouth. But since she didn’t know how she could ask for such a thing, she could only tremble against him.

  Between her thighs she was hot and aching and sensitive. When she lifted her leg, she was pressed even more intimately against him. She gasped as he caught her knee and pulled higher. She felt the hard ridge of him against her most private depths, and the urge to push even closer was too much to deny. With a thrust of his hips he rolled against her. She cried out as a shock of awareness and pleasure shivered deep in her stomach.

  “Should I do that again?” he asked huskily, raising his head to brush her lips with his.

  “Oh please,” she murmured.

  He watched her face as he ground against her, and she returned the stare with heavy-lidded eyes. His face was etched with an intensity she’d never seen before. He was a hunter after his prey, a savage after the only thing that mattered.

  How it exhilarated her! He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, a four-poster large enough for the two of them. When he set her down, she felt a rush of air against her legs and realized he was drawing her nightdress up. She wanted him to see her, wanted to see him. Her skin was alive with sensitivity as she felt the trail of fabric against her buttocks, against her stomach, and over her breasts. She raised her arms, and then clothing obscured her view. When she could see again, she was naked. She tried to release the gown, but he kept her arms trapped in it, forcing her to arch.

  He stared at her breasts, and the light of passion in his eyes made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He cupped her cheek softly, then swept his hand down her neck, teasing the edge of her breast, crossing her stomach, along her hip and thigh. Brazenly she wanted to turn into his caress, to make him touch her intimately as he’d done during their game of billiards. That night lived in her dreams, and she wanted it to come alive again and fulfill its promise.

  And then her arms were free and she tried to unbutton his shirt. He stopped her.

  “Let me,” he murmured, pushing her back until she sat on the edge of the bed.

  “But—”

  “Another time. But right now, if you touch me too much, I won’t be able to control myself.”

  “Control yourself?” she questioned, needing to know everything.

  He chuckled. “I want to delay this as long as possible.”

  “But why?” She stared avidly as his fingers opened each button.

  “Because the feelings are so much better the longer you make yourself wait.”

  His shirt dropped to the floor, and she gasped. “I can’t wait much longer.”

  In front of her face was the broadest, smoothest expanse of skin she’d ever seen. There were muscles she never knew one had, rippling beneath the surface. She saw the bullet wound scar, then the scab on his left arm. White marks like the nick of a knife stood out, and she traced one, only to feel him shudder.

  She leaned her head against his chest as he struggled with his trousers. Defiant now, she flicked her tongue against his nipple, as he’d done to her. His groan made her smile with feminine satisfaction.

  “Jane—”

  She caught the other nipple between her teeth and gently tugged. He shivered, and as the rest of his clothing fell to the floor, she watched in astonishment as his penis fell heavily against her thigh.

  She was not ignorant that a man’s body was different from hers. But this—she didn’t know what he was supposed to do with that. But she wanted to. She tentatively touched the smooth head of it, and it jumped against her hand.

  “Jane, no—” His voice was tense, as if he was in pain.

  “You don’t like to be touched?” she whispered, lifting her head to stare into his face. “I’ve enjoyed every touch you’ve given me.”

  His eyes were closed, his face taut with control. “For a man who has not done this in a long time, just your touch will be enough to start things I won’t be able to stop.”

  “To start what things?”

  He opened his eyes and stared at her, his breathing ragged. “Do you not know?”

  She shook her head. “There seemed to be no way to acquire the knowledge—not without a
sking someone.”

  “Acquire the—” His laughter was another shudder. “Do you want me to tell you—or show you?”

  Will gently pushed her, and she fell back on her elbows.

  “Which is faster?” she asked breathlessly, watching wide-eyed as he slid his fingers between her knees.

  “Are you in a hurry?”

  Ever so slowly, he trailed his fingers up her inner thighs. Even though she kept them close together, she shivered and even squirmed, so intense was her feeling of…anticipation.

  “I think so,” she said, her voice faint.

  “It only feels that way.”

  Just before he would have touched the curls at the juncture of her thighs, he pulled away. Everything inside her went tense with disappointment. He only smiled, and repeated the motion, sliding just a fraction higher. He stopped himself again, but this time he put his hands on her hips and slid them up her torso, teasing the undersides of her breasts before gently cupping them. With a moan, she closed her eyes, letting her head drop back with the pleasure of it all. She’d never imagined such a gentle caress could feel so wonderful. He leaned against her, his legs parting her thighs. When her gaze flew to his, he put his hands on her knees and separated them even farther.

  She knew she should be embarrassed, but there was something about the pleasure and awe in his eyes that made her trust him with the secrets of her body. He spread her legs as far as he could, and this time ran his hands down the top of her thighs, letting his thumbs ride her curls. The shock of pleasure was startling, almost painful, and she wanted more.

  He suddenly leaned over her, bracing himself with one hand next to her head. She held her breath, her gaze locked with his, as his fingers slid deep between her thighs and parted her.

  She inhaled a shocked gasp, arching her body toward him, but he held himself away and watched her. Her hands were restless, and she clutched his shoulders, but he wouldn’t lower himself. Again his fingers explored her, and her pleasure reached a new, even more incredible summit when he touched and circled one particular spot.

  When he stopped, she heard her own unrecognizable voice cry, “Please!”

  He kissed her then, touching her nowhere but on her lips and between her thighs. With her mouth she told him everything, that she wanted more, that she wanted him on the bed with her, that she hoped he was feeling the same things she was. His fingers slid deeper, and she stiffened.

  “Right there,” he said hoarsely against her mouth. “I’ll come inside you there.”

  His fingers pressed into her, his tongue thrust into her mouth, and she moaned. “Then do it.”

  His fingers left her, and before she could express her disappointment, he traced circles on her nipple, and through the pleasure she noticed that his fingers—and now her breast—were wet.

  “I—did that?” she asked.

  He grinned, then bent and licked her nipple. She convulsed and brought her knees up, feeling his hips between her thighs, his penis nudging her lower stomach.

  “You taste good,” he murmured and licked her again, a warm rasp of his tongue.

  “Oh Will.” She covered her face with her hands, not knowing if she should feel mortified or just desperate—or both.

  He pressed her breasts together and moved between them, teasing and nipping with his tongue and lips, drawing away until she reached for him in frustration. He finally let his hips rest fully against hers, and his erection was almost as intimate as his fingers had been. She was impatient for it, greedy for all of it.

  He suckled her nipple deep in his mouth, and then she felt him probing her. With his big hands, he pulled her hips to the edge.

  “Shouldn’t you—come up on the bed?”

  “Can’t wait,” he said tightly.

  As he bent over her again, she felt him begin to slowly ease inside. It was a large, hot intrusion, and as she opened her eyes and watched his face, it seemed almost painful for him.

  “Will—” She broke off when it suddenly became uncomfortable.

  He kissed her then, and with a sudden thrust buried himself inside her. A brief stab of pain subsided almost immediately, and she let go her pent-up breath with a sigh. When she opened her eyes, he was watching her.

  “All right?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Is this…it?”

  He grinned wickedly, then withdrew from her body and plunged back inside.

  She gave a shaky groan. “Oh…I see.”

  And then he was moving against her, mating with her, holding her hips still as he pushed in as deeply as he could. Again he bent over her and kissed her breasts, and every sensation he’d made her feel was spiraling ever higher, reaching for a place she couldn’t imagine—straining, wanting.

  And then she shattered. There was no other word for the explosion of feeling that tore through her, for the tenderness he made her feel toward him. He shuddered hard against her, groaning, and she realized he felt it too.

  He came to rest on top of her, their bodies touching intimately from their heads to their thighs. But he wasn’t uncomfortably heavy; in fact, she welcomed the weightiness of him. He pressed his face against her shoulder, his eyes closed, and she let her fingers trace his brow, over his eyelid, down his cheek to his lips.

  With a little growl, Will took her finger into his mouth, then opened his warm, brown eyes and looked at her, close enough that she felt his breath, even the pounding of his heart. There was an intimacy now between them that she couldn’t imagine sharing with another man. He suckled her finger and flexed himself deep inside her. She gasped at how sensitive and strangely tender she felt.

  “Are you sore?” he whispered, releasing her finger to kiss her gently.

  Jane shook her head.

  “Uncomfortable?”

  No again.

  “Then would you mind if I climb up beside you, because I’m starting to cramp up.”

  A giggle escaped her, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. He left her body, and she felt a void of loneliness that she could barely admit to herself.

  On his hands and knees Will crawled up, then collapsed on his side, one hand on her stomach, his knee riding hers. He forced himself to keep his touches simple, not knowing if she would welcome another bout of lovemaking. He was more than ready—ready for all of it. He wanted to wake up with her every day like this, and the thought that she had not yet decided whether to marry him sent an unfamiliar jolt of worry through him.

  She breathed a deep sigh.

  “Jane?”

  She lifted her lids and gazed at him with her tropical green eyes. Her face was serious, but there was just enough of a tilt to the corners of her lips to make him think she was not displeased.

  “Yes?” she whispered.

  “Was it what you thought?”

  When she rolled onto her side facing him and snuggled closer, relief eased through him.

  “Since I had no idea what to expect, I will admit my only feelings before were curiosity and nervousness.”

  “And now?”

  He couldn’t help himself; he moved lower in the bed until before him were the most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen. He leaned into her and let their soft roundness pillow his face. Breathing in her warm, moist scent, letting himself feel surrounded by her—it was like coming home. She stroked through his hair, as if encouraging him to touch her. Even after everything they’d discussed, all the lies he’d been forced to explain a little at a time, she still permitted him this intimacy. She couldn’t reject him in the end, not when she could kiss the top of his head with a tenderness that stunned him. He gave a heart-felt sigh and turned to take her nipple into his mouth, biting gently until she gasped.

  “And now,” Jane said, “it seems I still don’t understand. We can do this again?”

  “Any time you want,” he murmured against her breast.

  Suddenly she pushed him onto his back. For a moment, he felt a touch of loneliness as he worried that the past hour was all he’d ever have of he
r.

  “Is it my turn?” she asked.

  He frowned, then watched with dawning pleasure as she ran her hand across his chest. “Your turn?” he echoed stupidly.

  “You did things to me—now I get to touch you. Is that correct?”

  When she rose up on her hands and knees at his side, her breasts swinging gently, his mouth dried to cotton, and he had to swallow to speak.

  “We can do anything we want to each other, as long as we always say when something is uncomfortable,” he said distractedly.

  “Are you uncomfortable lying like this?”

  “No.”

  “Then tell me what pleases you. You seem to know everything about a woman’s body.”

  When she leaned over to kiss him, her breast brushed his arm and he groaned. “Not from too much experience, I assure you.” His head was afire with confusion and desire and something so primitive he couldn’t name it. No woman had ever asked how she could please him. “Any touch from you is all I’d ask.”

  She looked down his body and noticed that he was ready for whatever she would suggest. “Can we do…it again?”

  “It’s making love, my sweet,” he said, sliding her long black hair out of her face so he could look into her eyes. “With you it will never be just sex.”

  And then he realized what his words implied, what neither of them might want to say. She hesitated but said nothing. Then she surprised him by taking his erection into her fist, making him feel like a virgin all over again.

  “Must you be on top each time?” she asked, looking away as her blush spread from her face down to her lovely breasts.

  Surely she could feel him grow bigger in her hand. “There are many different ways to come together, Jane,” he said tightly.

  Then he took her knee and lifted it over his body. She braced herself awkwardly, and he watched the sudden knowledge that swept over her face when she found herself seated on his hips, his erection cradled against her.