“I want this agony to stop. I want…”
“I know what you want, my love. And I shall give it to you. Just relax, do not try so hard. When you fall, I will be here to catch you.” He kissed her closed eyes, her nose, jaw, then moved down to suckle on her breast once more. When she continued to strain, he moved farther down, kissing her flushed skin, covering her belly with feather kisses and slight nips. Placing his hands under her buttocks, he lifted and placed his mouth where his fingers had been and stroked her moist opening with his tongue.
Honey. She tasted like honey, and he could not get enough.
“Yes, yes. That.” Her breathing increased, and she fisted the sheets, calling his name over and over. Keeping his mouth busy, he looked up her thrashing body as a slight smile began on her lips, and then she stiffened, and a low keening erupted from deep inside as her body shuddered. He continued his ministrations until she collapsed, struggling to draw in breath.
As he watched her, something inside of him shifted. Something he did not want to identify. Instead, he kissed his way up her replete body and braced on his elbows, leaned over her, and looked into her hazel eyes.
All his past lovers had been merely practice for this one. This woman, in this time and place. He was home.
…
Arabella tried desperately to drag air into her lungs, but her chest heaved as though she’d run a race. She opened her eyes to see Nash staring at her, a definite look of male satisfaction on his face.
His warm lips covered hers, almost with violence, and she tentatively reached out for his jutting manhood. Would he be shocked and dismayed at her forwardness if she touched him? Would he tell her that was not what a countess did? He had seemed to enjoy her attentions there the last time they’d made love.
Her palm slid over his chest, tugging lightly on the soft curls that ran down the center to gather around the area she most wanted to explore. She continued on until she reached his hardened shaft. Nash sucked in a breath as her fingertips touched the incredibly soft skin covering steel. “Do you not want me to touch you there? I did the last time, but I don’t want to shock you.”
He smiled and held firmly onto her hand. “Do not be concerned with shocking me, darling. Anything we do here in our bed is fine as long as we both agree. And, yes, I definitely want you to touch me there.”
The grimace on his face as she slowly moved her hand over the oddly shaped member, and then encircled it with her fingers, made her think he felt pain. “Are you sure this doesn’t hurt?”
A groan was his only answer before he took her face in his two hands and devoured her mouth. He nudged her lips and his tongue slid in, tangling with hers, then sweeping over the inside of her mouth. The tingling that she’d felt before started up again, and her breathing once more increased.
“That’s it, darling, keep doing just that.”
The words he’d uttered were endearing, names he rarely used. Perhaps men had to be in the throes of passion before they spoke such tender words. How many women had Nash called darling, sweetheart, or sweeting? A depressing thought she shoved from her mind.
Her fingers slid into his thick curls, tugging his mouth once again to hers. She could not get enough of his skilled kisses. His hard body that pressed against hers still didn’t seem close enough. She felt as though she wanted to burrow into him, become part of him.
“Sweetheart, I can’t keep holding off. I’m sorry.” He pulled back, then spread her legs with his knee, settling his muscular body between them. He continued his kisses and squeezing and molding her breasts. Slowly, the hardened part of him nudged at her center, and he moved into her, pulling out, then moving back in. It didn’t hurt as much as it had the first time, just a feeling of fullness.
“Oh God, you feel wonderful. So tight, so warm and moist.”
By the look on his face, that was either the worst thing in the world, or the best. He fully entered her, so their bodies touched, then he began moving. The rhythm grew from enjoyable to once again frantic as she shifted so the part of her that needed attention could rub against his manhood.
Nash leaned down to mumble in her ear, “Yes, keep moving like that. I love the feel of you underneath me. Your softness against my hardness.”
Although she needed no encouragement, his words spurred her on, making her feel as though she were a wanton. A woman who enjoyed her husband’s attentions, unlike what Mother had told her. “Doing one’s duty” was just that, a duty. Yet this was certainly no duty. This was wonderful.
As she moved, the warm feelings once again started to build as Nash thrust into her, again taking her breath away.
She sighed with delight, then licked his flat nipple, causing him to suck in a deep breath through his teeth.
He grabbed her hands and pulled them over her head. Holding them both with one large hand, he used the other one to massage her breast, tweak her nipple, his hips moving in rhythm. The roughness of his palm over the softness of her skin abraded her nipples, causing heaviness in her breasts and more moisture to gather between her legs.
“You make me crazy, Arabella,” Nash whispered in her ear. “You are so warm, so soft. I can’t get enough of you.”
His muscled body, and the grip he had on her hands, anchoring her to the bed, excited her like nothing he’d done before. She looked up at him, and he stared at her, his blue eyes almost black. Blond curls fell over his forehead, urging her to brush them back, but he still held her hands.
She wanted so badly to touch him, but he held firm as he bent his head and took her mouth in a kiss that demanded her surrender. He nudged at her lips, and his tongue swept in. They tangled together, her desire to feel that wonderful sensation again rising with each stroke of his tongue.
“Oh God, sweetheart, I can’t wait any longer.” His voice was hoarse, raspy. Just as that delightful feeling started to wash over her, Nash threw his head back and shoved one last time. Warm liquid flooded her insides, but she barely noticed since she was again riding a wave of her own pleasure.
Nash collapsed on top of her, having as much trouble breathing as she was. After a few minutes of them both gasping for breath, he brushed back the damp curls from her forehead and kissed the spot he uncovered. “I hope I did not hurt you.”
“No.” She shook her head, her voice barely audible as she attempted to catch her breath.
“Good. I am afraid I was a tad eager from staying away from you, so you could sufficiently recover from your fatigue.”
Nash rolled off her and pulled her to his side. They lay together, both of them regaining their breath. The silence was comforting until she began to feel chilly. When she shivered, Nash reached down and pulled the counterpane over them, pulling her even closer against him to share his incredible warmth. He seemed to be settling in for the night.
Almost as if he’d read her mind, he said, “I had always planned to share a bed with my wife.” He looked down at her. “Do you object to that?”
Another surprise. Although he’d slept with her in the short time they’d been married, she’d assumed it was because of her illness. Had she given it thought, it would have surprised her that he wanted her by his side all night. Typical ton married couples had separate bedchambers. And beds. Indeed, the thought of curling up against Nash’s warm body in the cold nights of winter sounded appealing.
“No.” She shook her head. “I do not object at all.”
He kissed her forehead again. “Good.” His fingers drew lazy circles on her arm.
Weariness settled into her bones. “I believe I would like to sleep now. It has been a long day.” She stifled a yawn and boldly kissed him on the lips and turned her back to him, snuggling into the covers.
A strong arm came around her waist and pulled her to his body. She rather liked having him next to her in bed. She wiggled her bottom a bit to settle against him, and he moaned.
She looked over her shoulder. “Does that hurt?”
“No, Arabella. Just go to sleep.”<
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Chapter Fourteen
“How are my animals?” Nash groaned at the first words out of Arabella’s mouth when they entered Clarendon Townhouse. They had stayed overnight at the Duck and Swan Inn, which had left them with only three hours on the road that morning. He had pushed Arabella to rise before dawn to finish their journey. He’d been anxious to get started on his finances.
After visiting with other tenants, he had determined his money problems were easily solved by hiring a new steward.
The younger Jones had never been located, but after confirming his suspicions, he had notified the magistrate to hold him when found. He also passed the word to all tenants that there would be a new steward, and they were no longer to deal with Jones. Once he settled his affairs in London, he would go back to Suffolk and meet with the tenants as a group and get all matters, including the so-called rent increase, straightened out.
“I believe one of the footmen has been caring for them, my lady.” Quinn greeted them with his usual aplomb as he took Nash’s hat, gloves, and cane.
“Thank you.” Arabella hurried to the back of the house.
Nash shook his head as he watched her skirts flying down the corridor. Right now, he had more important matters on his mind. “Quinn, please have Cook send in coffee and a bite to eat. I’ll be in my library most of the day.”
“You have the Kendall ball this evening, my Lord.” Andrews descended the stairs. “Please allow yourself time to dress.” With those ominous words, Andrews marched past the two men and headed out the front door to continue supervising the unpacking of his lordship’s trunks.
A sinking feeling landed in Nash’s stomach. The Kendall affair would be the first time he and Arabella appeared in public since their hurried-up wedding. There was nothing to be done for it, though. They had to eventually face Society as a married couple. Hopefully, Arabella would present herself in a dignified manner. Aside from her indiscretion in rescuing the kitten at Blossom’s farm, she’d done quite well in the country, but Town could be as dangerous as a battlefield, and just as bloody. Gossip, rumors, and innuendoes had never affected him before now, but he knew women, for all their softness and delicacy, were as vicious as the top commanders in the military. Except their weapons were their tongues, as sharp and dangerous as any saber.
If word of his countess’s continued activities with injured animals reached the ears of some of the ton, it would be a social disaster for them both.
“Send for my solicitor, Mr. Manson.” Nash nodded at Quinn and entered the library. He sat behind his large wooden desk and surveyed the room. Perhaps it was his marriage giving him a sense of settling down, perhaps not, but he found himself wishing to be back at Clarendon Manor.
It had been good seeing his tenants again and catching up on local gossip. Arabella seemed content there, as well. Of course, once they returned there after the Season, she would be sure to keep at him to build a larger kennel for her animals. Pushing all those matters aside, he removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Pulling the large ledger book from the bottom drawer of his desk, he opened it, frowned at the numbers there, and set to work.
Nash impatiently brushed away Andrews’s hands. “Enough. I am ready to go.”
“My lord, this is your first appearance as a married gentleman. You do not want to disgrace Lady Clarendon.”
Nash snorted. He would be lucky if Lady Clarendon didn’t disgrace him by talking about her animals and the surgeries she’d performed. With his help, no less. Or perhaps a mouse would make its way into the ballroom, and she would find it necessary to crawl under furniture to retrieve it, her lovely bottom up in the air for all the men to admire.
He studied himself in the mirror. Black evening coat and breeches, with a silver and white waistcoat covering the stark white of his shirt. His intricately tied cravat made the freshly shaven skin on his face appear darker, swarthier.
He passed through his dressing room and gave a slight knock on Arabella’s door. He stopped just inside the entrance, his eyes flickering from the top of her well-coiffed head to the dainty pink slippers peeking out from under her gown.
Arabella certainly looked the part of her ladyship, the Countess of Clarendon. Head held high, her eyes glimmered with what he could only surmise was determination. Was she ready to face the ton? She appeared to be.
“You look lovely, sweeting.”
He pushed back his hair from his forehead and approached her. “Turn around, I have something for you.”
She did as he bid. “These are the family jewels that rightfully belong to the current countess.” He fastened the latch and kissed the back of her neck, his warm breath causing gooseflesh to rise where his lips touched. “They look beautiful on you.”
He held her shoulders and turned her so she faced him. He stood so close, he could smell her faint aroma of lavender and lemon. As he gazed down at her, her sparkling hazel eyes smiled more than her lips. Lips that urged him to kiss her. Warm, soft, moist. She opened her mouth at his slight nudge, and he entered, sweeping along, touching sensitive spots.
Arabella’s tongue tangled with his, and he pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. His muscles tensed as he held her. Slowly, his hand came up, and he cupped her face, moving her head so he could take the kiss deeper. Her fingers wrapped around his arms, holding on.
Nash released her mouth and stepped back, his eyes eating her up. He ran his fingers down her cheek. “So sweet.”
She closed her eyes at his gentle touch, and he reached into his pocket and took her gloved hand. After sliding a ring on her finger, he added a bracelet to her wrist, as well. “These are all part of the set, including these.” He held up a pair of ruby and pearl earl bobs that matched the necklace, ring, and bracelet perfectly.
Taking the earrings from him with shaky hands, she slid them onto her earlobes. “It appears we are ready.” She drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out, as if she were about to face her executioner. Perhaps that was how she felt.
He extended his arm, Arabella took it, and they left the room together, descending the steps to where Quinn held Nash’s belongings. Once they were settled in the carriage, facing each other, Arabella began to fidget with the fasteners on her pelisse. “Since this is our first public appearance since the Ashbourne ball, I must admit to a small case of nerves.”
“Understandable. However, we’ve nothing to be concerned about. We are married now. You are my countess. You wear the family jewels. My mother approves of you. No doubt, after the first few minutes of gossiping, all attention will focus on the next scandal.”
His jaw tightened. “However, please remember this is Polite Society, not the backwoods of my estate. No rushing to rescue an animal.”
“That is the furthest thing from my mind right now. I do not like being the current scandal.” She twisted her hands in her lap, staring at his shoes before turning her attention to the black sky outside the carriage window. “Do you intend for us to remain in London the entire Season?”
“I have my Parliamentary duties to see to. With the wedding and our trip to Suffolk, I am afraid I have missed a couple of important votes. I feel as though I need to be two people. One for Parliament, and one for Lord of the Manor. So, to answer your question, for the most part, yes.”
Arabella nodded, lips tight, almost as though she knew that would be his answer. The ride continued in silence for a few minutes, the clopping of the horses’ hooves bringing a rhythm that did not seem to soothe his wife.
“Arabella.” Nash extended his hand to her. “Come here.”
After a slight hesitation, she rose and moved next to him. He took her hands in his. “Even through our gloves I can feel how cold your hands are.”
“Being the center of attention alarms me. Prior to now, I spent most of the Season courted by old men selected by my mother, fading into the background as much as I could otherwise.”
“You are a beautiful woman, Arabella. It confuses me as to why your mot
her would push older men on you. Certainly, you would have had no problems attracting a young man.”
“There were one or two that showed interest, but Mother felt an older man would ‘take me in hand’ and—I hate to say this, not live long, so I would be free to pursue my interests.”
Nash’s brows rose. “But you turned down those who offered. Had you no intention of ever marrying?”
“Oh, I knew, given my station, it was inevitable, unless I wished to be left afloat. I have no relatives who would have been willing to take on a spinster. A governess or companion might have solved that issue, but what of Mother?”
“You might have continued on at your country home. You mentioned the new earl was willing to allow you and your mother to stay.”
“For how long? We have recently ascertained he is a single man with a duty to his new title. He would have needed to marry, and few new wives relish the idea of sharing their household with another woman. No, there was never a doubt I would one day wed, I merely wanted a couple of years to take my time.”
He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “Instead you got three days.”
“Yes. As did you.” She gave him a soft smile. It seemed the conversation had relaxed her a bit.
The slow queue their carriage had been stuck in finally moved forward, and the vehicle rolled to a stop. A footman opened the door, and Nash stepped out, turning to assist Arabella. He placed her hand on his arm, and they made their way up the stairs to the Kendall townhouse. Arabella continued to take deep breaths, making him wonder if her stays were laced too tight. Lord, he hated those things.
Just as they arrived at the doorway to the ballroom, he leaned in and whispered into her ear, “Relax, sweetheart. ’Tis just another ball.”
Arabella raised her head, and her lips lifted into a semblance of a smile. Once announced, they descended the stairs together. As expected, heads turned, whispers began behind decorated fans, and eyebrows rose. The muscles in Nash’s arm tightened, and he tugged her closer, covering the hand on his arm with his own.
Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords & Ladies in Love) Page 14