by Jillian Hart
A spark of want blazed to life in his chest, brazen and possessive, building with each beat of his heart. That passion would be his, as she was his, now and forever.
She had retreated to the corner of the room, cloaked in shadows near the window where a constant rain tapped at the glass. So, she was shy, preferring darkness to the light. Well, he would soon fix that.
"Come, show me your wanton nature." He curled one hand around her nape, the silken luxury of her curls teasing his knuckles, and the heat of her skin scorched his palm. " 'Tis what I crave."
"Jonah," she breathed, as his mouth descended on hers.
He tasted the sweetness of his name on her lips. She was heated satin, and he was spellbound. He flicked his tongue across the seam of her mouth and she opened up to him with a tentative brush of her tongue to his.
Fire streaked through his chest, burning hotter, brighter. Aye, she responded to him, molding her lips to his, licking and sucking. She was but a temptress. The flames in his chest built until every part of him felt on fire, until he laid his hands on her breasts, despite the barrier of cotton, and kneaded and rubbed.
On a moan, she arched into his touch, head falling back. Hell, but she was going to destroy him. Already his hands shook with want, his body trembled with every pulse of his beating heart, and his shaft stretched his breeches to the limit.
He tugged hard at her collar and the wooden buttons at her nape gave in one swift ripple, leaving the fabric loose around her shoulders. He licked his way down her neck, feasting on the salty sweetness of her skin and her throaty moans, dragging the fabric down with him. The straps of her chemise slipped easily down her creamy shoulders to reveal breasts shadowed and untouched by light. But not by him.
He dragged one pebbled nipple into his mouth, and she groaned low, breathing his name.
"Oh, Jonah. Yes." Her hair cascaded over her shoulders to brush at his cheek. She arched hard into him and her fingers wrapped around his neck to hold him there.
Pulse thundering in his ears, Jonah ran his tongue around the silken nub, taut and supple, and then suckled hard enough to made her gasp, to make her body tremble with hard coursing pleasure. Aye, he knew how it felt, to want, to ache. It was in her glazed eyes, dark and pooled with emotion. The same need beat within his veins and sparked the air between them.
Aye, he could wait no more. He gave her dress a mighty pull. One button popped and hit the wooden floor, rolling to a stop, and her garments slid down her hips to pool in a dark puddle at her ankles.
"Jonah, I don't think-"
"Don't think," he advised, as he scooped her up and laid her back on the bed. How bewitching she looked wearing only a set of drawers and her shoes. He knelt to take them off, and her stockings, too. "You know what I want. And thought has no place in what we're about to do."
He straddled over her, his knees on either side of her thighs, and tugged off his shirt. Aye, she was a beauty, lying within the brush of candlelight, her skin gleaming gold and her breasts firm and inviting. Her eyes darkened as she studied the breadth of his bare chest. So, she liked what she saw. He loosened his breeches, determined to show her more.
Hard as steel, his shaft sprang out How her gaze clamped onto that sight, her mouth opening slightly. Her intake of breath confirmed she had not been expecting so much of him.
"Is this what you have been thinking of too, seeing me like this?" He untied the bow at her waist and her drawers loosened. "For 'tis all I have been wanting since we last met"
"Jonah?"
"What is it, sweet?" And how sweet she was. He parted fabric and discovered a softly curving belly, and below a thatch of dark hair.
"I know what happens, but-"
"But what?" Her thighs opened and his fingers parted delicate folds to discover dampness and heat.
"You're so very big." Her breath came swift and broken.
"Aye, and you'll like it, I promise." How wondrous she felt here, heat and satin, and his fingers explored the texture of her there, where the candlelight did not reach.
"Truly? I'm told there is much pain the first time."
His fingers continued to stroke and explore. She lay before him, thighs apart, naked and aroused and ready, so ready. "I'll be gentle. Do you like this?"
"Aye, your touches are good. So very good." A small grain of fear lived in her voice. But even more desire.
"Aye, 'tis good." She looked so wanton, 'twas all he could do to keep himself from taking her now. " 'Twill feel even better, I promise."
"How could it possibly be better?" Pleasure glazed her eyes, and she felt liquid at his persistent caresses. "How long I have wanted you, just like this, and now you are ready." He stretched out over her, and he felt her sink more deeply into the mattress. "Show me how passionate you can be. I want to know that part of you."
"But I-"
He silenced her with a kiss, a fiery kiss that involved lips and teeth and tongue. He felt her body's reaction, for it was stretched full out beneath him. She strained up to take more of his kiss and her breasts pillowed his chest, her nipples scraping his chest hair. Her thighs parted just a bit, and he took advantage, pressing with the inside of his knees so she opened just for him.
"You like the feel of me, don't you?" The swollen head of his shaft thrummed against her dampness and heat.
"Jonah, 'tis not what I expected." She gasped, fighting for breath and for control.
He could feel it too, how they were both on the edge. Blood thrummed through his veins, rich with want, pulsing with the strident need to bury every inch of his shaft inside her. Now. He could wait no longer. She was woman-hot and bewitching as he pressed into her, into the first welcome gloving of her body.
"Is this better than you expected?"
"Aye. How you're stretching me."
"And filling you up."
Slowly, now. He closed his eyes tight, determined to fight the thrumming pleasure daring him to plunge deeper, to take all he could from her. Aye, how he wanted to be sheathed completely in her silken heat. "I can feel how you like this."
" Tis so wondrous." Her words were broken, low and throaty. "Oh, Jonah."
Her head lolled back and he felt her body lift, her hips drive up to take more of him. Something gave and she gasped, and it was too late to take back control. He drove deep as she rose up to meet him. Sensation gripped the base of his spine and every inch she clenched within her. Pleasure that cut as sharp as a blade's edge made him call out, made him drive into her again and again.
She rose up to meet him with bold thrusts of her hips. Her hands snaked around his back to settle on his buttocks, clamping him to her as her ankles locked behind his hips. She moaned his name over and over again, and he could feel how close she was, the hard clamping of her muscles, the tremulous tension in her body. And then her release. Her head braced against his throat, her hips lifted, her body clenched in one wave after another.
He could not hold on. Tight punches of release struck low in his back and pulsed through his shaft, through every muscle and bone. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep in the cry of surrender, but he could not. His surrender, his possession of her was complete.
At the last pulse of his seed, he collapsed. All at once he was aware of her arms around his back, cradling him close, and her gentle kisses at his throat and chin.
"How you move me," he admitted, and then wished he could pull back the words.
Her smile became a kiss, and they started all over again.
Chapter Ten
Morning dawned with the weakest of light Tessa watched the darkness thin until a pale gray light played at the edges of the curtain. 'Twas so comfortable here in this big soft bed, and so warm with Jonah at her side.
Ah, to look at him took her breath away. He lay on his back, his long dark hair tumbled across the pristine pillowslips, his face relaxed in sleep, but the masculine intensity remained in the cut of his jaw and cheekbones. The covers puddled half way down his chest against bronzed skin faintl
y dusted with dark hair. How wide that chest was, and his shoulders too. One arm rested on his waist, the other somewhere beneath the blankets.
She lifted the covers carefully and then slid across the sheets quietly so as not to wake him. Sore muscles reminded her of last night's lovemaking. She blushed remembering how she'd responded to him, how thrilling it felt to be joined with him. How on earth did married people manage to look so dour faced and serious all the time? She felt like laughing out loud.
She changed into her favorite work dress, a light gray cotton she'd made herself. Tepid water that had once been warm sat in a pitcher on the corner commode. She washed her face, careful to keep the splashing to a minimum, but Jonah did not rouse. He lay still, his magnificent chest rising and falling with each breath.
She brushed out her hair quickly. She'd been a regular slug-a-bed this morning. Look, the sun was already rising. A rooster crowed somewhere, intent on announcing the arrival of the new day. Why, she had a house full of men to cook for. Between somber Thomas and terrified Andy, she wondered what they would think of her waltzing downstairs so late.
"Trying to escape me?" His voice came raw and husky from sleep. He smiled, low and lazy, and the warmth of it wrapped around her like a hug.
"Aye, I'm late already. I must check on your father and see to the chores."
"We have a servant for the outside work."
"Then I have breakfast to prepare. I can't believe your brothers would think well of me if I let them starve."
"My brothers know how to fend for themselves." Jonah sat up in bed, the sheets gliding down his body to rest dangerously low at his hips. Dark hair gathered there and drew her gaze. "Are you remembering last night? Remembering how you liked it?"
"You are a devil, you are. I was right about you all along." Heat stained her face at the remembered images hardly decent in the light of day, or even in the first scattering of daylight
A brow quirked. "I'm too big to push into a mud puddle, as you did when we were children and I pulled your braid."
"Aye, but not so big that I can't shove you out of that bed."
" 'Tis because you want to see me naked and aroused. I can oblige." He rolled back the covers, revealing bronzed skin and powerfully built man and a jutting hardness that he seemed so proud of. "Forget the chores. Forget breakfast. I want you, Tessa."
"Goodness. 'Tis after six o'clock in the morning. 'Tis not decent."
"And was it decent last night?" He unfolded his big body full length. "You were more than eager in the dark. Let us see how wild you can be in the daylight."
"Go ahead and tempt me. 'Twill not work." In truth, her blood nearly boiled in her veins at the sight of him. Why did it have to be him? She had always prayed to find a nice man, a quiet one, maybe bookish, decent, and kind. But not one of those words could be used to describe this man towering before her, brash and bold and naked.
So very naked. She could hardly ignore that thick stiff length of him, staring right at her. Her knees felt shaky. And her entire body melted.
"Admit it, Tessa. You want me." His bare feet padded on the wood floor. How close he was. She took a step backward. " 'Tis there in your eyes, as dark as desire. You enjoyed making love last night"
" 'Twas not too terrible," she admitted. And lied boldly. Terrible? 'Twas indescribably heavenly. "But already the day has begun and we can't lie about when there's work to be done."
"There will be time enough for work." A slow grin stretched his mouth at one corner as he wrapped both hands around her wrists, holding her captive. "Come, back to bed with me. I'll let you be on top."
"On top?" Humor and a devil's light sparkled in his eyes, so deep and rich she could lose herself in them. "You're naught but a rogue, a wicked man through and through."
"Guilty as charged." A dimple etched into his cheek. He was enjoying this too much.
"See? You admit it. You were entirely responsible for my behavior last night"
"Me?" He crooked one brow, "I was responsible?"
"Aye, you. A proper wife lies there dutifully, but you, you made me-"
"A proper wife? Oh, that's a stretch of the truth. From our first kiss you were a wicked enchantress with that fiery mouth of yours, and in the forest, offering me your breasts the way you did-"
"Offering you? You did as you pleased."
"And you moaned the entire time. Just like last night." His lips grazed her knuckles, and his tongue flicked out to lave the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. "Come, let me make you moan again."
"A decent husband would not know how to make a woman moan like that."
Dark eyes snapped, crackling like fire in a hearth, intense, dangerous. "I never said I was a decent man. Or husband. I know how much you liked it, Tessa. And how much you are tempted now. Your eyes are naught but black, your breath comes fast and light in your chest, and your pulse skips beneath my touch. Admit it"
"I can plainly see how tempted you are." She tried to joke, but there was nothing humorous in his rock-hard shaft, or in the desire plain and naked in his eyes, and all for her. "But your brothers will think-"
" 'Tis none of their business what I do with my wife."
His mouth claimed hers in a storm of heat and fire. Like a flame, she felt burned by him. Burned by a fast crackling want that snapped through her veins and sizzled in her very bones.
He backed her up against the wall until there was no space between them. She could feel the hard wall of his chest against her breasts, the steely bunch of his thighs fitted between hers, and his rock-hard shaft slanted against the curve of her stomach.
"You're not responding like a proper wife." He broke their kiss only to tug at her buttons.
" 'Tis hard to be proper with a man as wicked as you." Her breath came fast and light. Her whole body felt aflame, ready to be engulfed by this sharp pounding need for him.
"So you blame me again?" he chuckled, rich and liquid warm as he dipped his head to draw her bared breast into his mouth.
"Aye. 'Tis all your fault." Such thrilling pleasure. Tessa tipped her head back to rest against the wall, her eyes drifting shut. The sweet pressure of his mouth on her nipple drew taut a band of sensation low in her abdomen. Tingly and heavy and incredible, she was ready to surrender to him even in the light of day and let him strip off her clothes and make love to her until this heady need for him was sated.
A knock tapped at the closed door. "Jonah?"
"Not now, Andy," Jonah growled out, lifting his head from her breasts. "I'm busy."
"But 'tis Father."
Jonah squeezed his eyes shut, the muscles standing out in his strong jaw and the column of his neck.
"I must go." She pressed a kiss to Jonah's stubbled jaw, rough and so wondrously male. "You can be wicked later, mayhap at nighttime when it's much more decent"
"Decency be damned." His gaze clamped on her, intense and intimate, sparkling with a knowledge of what was to come.
Her heart skipped three beats, for she wanted to be held in his arms, pinned beneath him, and feel that spiraling pleasure only he could give her.
She hadn't known married life would be so wondrous. Mother had spoken of the pleasure of the marriage bed but only indirectly.
Tessa fastened her buttons, and Jonah stepped away. Still naked, still aroused, still wanting her, but sadness now snapped in his eyes and tightened the muscles of his jaw.
"Go to him. I'll get dressed and come help you."
" 'Twill be interesting to see how your breeches fit," she could not help teasing.
Imagine, her, Tessa Bradford, teasing. Never in her life had she felt this happy. And it was only one day, less than twenty-four hours of being Jonah's bride.
'Twas a very fine thing to be.
Jonah pushed open the door to Father's chamber. New candles burned on the stand by the bed, where the weak old man coughed fitfully. The hacking painful sound filled the room and the empty chambers of his cold dark heart.
"Yesterday was too exciti
ng for him." Tessa looked up when he entered the room. Her long hair was brushed but not yet tied back, caressing the delicate cut of her cheekbones and jaw, softening her features, rendering her beautiful.
If Tessa had worn her hair down and smiled just once, likely half the men in the village would have dropped to their knees before her. Even he had been guilty in seeing the worst in her, in this woman who had cared so dutifully for an ill and dying mother, as he had not done for his own father.
Aye, she was a woman of courage and strength, of more goodness and beauty than anyone he knew. Even now, she tended Father with tender hands, angelic hands, smoothing a cloth over the old man's wrinkled brow.
"I can't seem to catch air," Father wheezed between dry, chest-deep coughs.
"I told you to take care, not to become overtired. You refused to listen, so don't expect any sympathy from me." But the soft curve of her mouth gentled the words and the caring in her eyes, how mesmerizing it was.
"Jonah, will you bring me some boiling water? I would do it myself, but I don't want to leave him."
He could only nod, his throat tight. Tight with fear for his father who appeared to be scarcely breathing. Tight with gratefulness for Tessa, who did not shirk her duty.
"I'll bring up your breakfast as well." He resisted the urge to kiss her, to thank her for what she had done. This was all the proof he needed. He had made the right choice in marrying her.
He left with the image of her sitting at Father's side, candlelight sheening the ebony beauty of her hair. He tapped down the stairs, glad at least this worry he carried was groundless. Marriage might not prove to be so horrible after all.
"Quite a grin you're wearing, brother." Thomas looked up from the hearth.
"Aye, 'tis amazing you are in such good humor." Andy sat at the table, his plate heaped with baked goods.
"Look how at ease he is. I bet our sharp-tongued Mistress Tessa is not always so severe." Thomas scooped fried eggs from a sizzling skillet. "Comes as quite a surprise to me, but looks can be deceiving, eh, Jonah?"
"More than you know." He grabbed an extra plate from the cupboard. "Is that kettle boiling yet?"