With a growl of pure raw unadulterated desire he rolled over on top of her, grabbed the backs of her knees up over his forearms, and spread her legs wide.
One huge pounding thrust was enough to finish him off, but she begged, "Please, stay with me."
She was continuing to move, and he could feel her inner muscles clenching almost desperately for release. He had felt the urgent rippling before, but now she clamped down upon him fiercely, massaging him to hardness again.
The need to please her took precedence over everything else, including his need to protect her. He watched her in awed fascination as she threw her head back and let out a cry of delight.
He kissed down the side of her neck to her breasts, now rosily flushed with passion, and took each delicate nipple into his mouth and sucked gently. Her hips were still moving so he stayed with her, angling his body to increase the friction against her soft outer flesh. Pressed so deeply within her, he moved up and down and from side to side, and still her climax continued.
Perspiration beaded her forehead and upper lip. He licked her dewy lip and plunged his tongue in, completing the act of possession of her trembling body. He cupped her buttocks now with both hands and pressed ever deeper, his hips' up and down motion sending showers of spark against her delicate rosebud of desire.
"More please," she groaned into his mouth, wrapping her legs around his waist.
He had known many women, but never one as compliant as Althea. But then he had never been in love with a woman before. He knew that now. Even what he had thought had been his puppy love for her could in no way compare with the absolute cataclysm of his heart and soul which he felt when they were together.
Now that he had been truthful about his feelings at last, there were no barriers between them any longer. That was what Althea had asked for, and he understood it all now.
He wasn't just taking from her, he was giving. Giving her the most exquisite joy, if her tremulous cries were anything to go by. And his desire was equally matched by her own ardour, for it seemed she couldn't get enough of him any more than he thought he could get enough of her.
He could feel another climax rushing through him and had an image of them both spiralling off into the heavens never to be seen again. The vortex of pure raw sensation where their bodies joined sent them spinning into the realm of untold delights.
Still he kept moving within her, bringing one hand around to rub between them as he massaged her peaked flesh. It provoked a wild answering cry from deep inside her.
Soon her fingers joined his between them as she slid them delicately over his silken pouch and rubbed the underside gently with her fingertips.
"Althea, oh, Althea!"
The increasing pressure set him off yet again. Matthew was as a swimmer at the mercy of the most unpredictable tides, which buffeted him to and fro, swirling him round and round until he was sure he was drowning.
Yet buoying him up too, for he felt he was riding upon the crested waves, before at last plunging back downwards again.
When Matthew eventually regained his senses, he was on his back just as he had been several hours before, and Althea was draped over him once more so that every inch of their bare flesh seemed to touch. For a moment he wondered how he had ever had such an incredible erotic dream.
Then she sighed between her smiling lips and said, "Thank you, darling. That was so wonderful."
He touched her tentatively, and himself. She was soaked with perspiration and his essence. The strong smell of arousal in the room told him that it had been no dream. That their lovemaking had been he and his wife as they truly were, with no doubts or hesitations.
Yet still he doubted. Feared.
"Althea, my love, look at me."
She opened her eyes, and gave him such a smile of pure joy he was sure he would reach his zenith again right then and there. Her warm gaze was like a hand caressing him. He cupped her face in both his hands and kissed her like a starving man.
"What is it, what's wrong?" she gasped, a small frown of confusion marring her otherwise beatific expression.
He smiled back at her with a lightness of heart which he hadn't felt since their childhood days. Since he had left her behind and lost his virginity in a depraved whorehouse.
"Nothing, my love," he said truthfully, "nothing at all. I can understand it all now. Last night, and this morning. This it the true start of our marriage. I comprehend everything now, most especially the vows we exchanged. One flesh, one heart, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, until death do we part."
"Are you sure?" she asked softly.
He nodded and said firmly, "Sure of us both."
She stroked his cheek. "I'm so glad."
"That's not to say I won't move heaven and earth to protect you, and this will take some getting used to." He stroked her bare belly and grinned. "But I don't think having such a wonderful wife by my side day and night, all night, every night is going to be any great hardship. Quite the opposite. It will be pure pleasure."
He took her hand and kissed it, running his tongue along in the palm in a slow, lazy caress. He licked along her wrist, up to her elbow, then tugged her arm around his shoulder and moved her on top of him.
"I think I interrupted you before, my love. You were saying?"
"You chased everything right out of my head," she said with a delighted grin, wriggling into position. "Just let me get back to where I was, and I'm sure it will come to me."
He laughed joyously. "To me too."
"And there will be plenty more to come too."
"Lucky us."
"Not luck. A gift from the gods. Fate. Whatever. It was meant to be."
"And for which I will be eternally grateful for the rest of our lives."
She looked at him pertly. "Exactly how grateful?"
"Let me show you, my love."
"Oooh, yes..."
Chapter Twenty-Three
After their incredible night of passion, Althea was sure her husband was taking their marriage vows a bit too seriously.
Matthew was ever at her side and showered her with attention and affection, so much so that she began to wonder if they would ever leave the house.
Oh, they started out with the best of intentions, but no sooner would they be dressed and ready to depart to Bath, or to see friends, than he would enfold her in his arms for a seemingly innocent kiss, and they would end up right back in their bed chamber stripping each other bare like two ravenous people eager for a feast.
It was indeed a feast of the senses, as they each sought ever new ways to delight the other. He tried to avoid anything which might remind her of her past, but he made no mention of it and she said nothing either, on an eager quest of her own to thrill him.
Even the simplest massage stroke Eswara had taught her became enough to delight him, and he was soon eager to learn the techniques for himself. The more intimate massages left him speechless and impatient to try with her. He became the most avid student of the Tantra she could ever have hoped for, and they shared their desires and fantasies, and laughed and loved. They had more fun and sheer joy than Matthew could have ever dreamed possible.
If either had had doubts about each other's love, they were firmly laid to rest. Yet still Matthew could not quite banish the image of her as the delicate little flower he had seen tied up like a slave.
He tried to force it from his memory, and gradually it began to cease haunting him, as it faded over time into the background compared with the new images of his beloved smiling, opening to him, and bathing him with the warm glow of her passionate cherishing.
For as each day and night passed, Matthew could imagine no woman less abject than his wife Althea as she blossomed with his love and her own self-confidence, and transformed from girl to woman to goddess.
Their bedroom became a haven of sensual delights which no one dared intrude upon, and where time had no meaning. They were inseparable, and his attention was always so focused on her, she was
sure that if he ever thought about his past mistresses at all, it was only to compare them unfavourably with his wife, and congratulate himself on his lucky escape.
Matilda, no longer seeing Matthew out and about, knew she had well and truly lost her gambit to get him back. She left the district at last, returning to London looking for bigger quarry by all acounts.
Althea breathed a sigh of relief when she informed her spouse of the news and he told her how delighted he was that she had gone. His face was so opening and smiling, she never had cause to doubt his sincerity in the least.
They chatted for hours about their shared past, and their hopes for the future. Through their new affection and hard-forged intimacy, they got to know each other in ways which went beyond the physical. They basked in each other's adoration, and Matthew was sure he'd never known such happiness could exist.
Now that he was happy, it was time to share his joyous good fortune. Once they started being more practical about how they spent their days, Matthew became firmly committed to helping the clinic Blake had founded in London, and even setting up similar ones in Bristol and in Bath.
He turned his considerable business acumen to the task of setting up a special fund to give each place some working capital and a steady income. He also planned to set up a trust designed for fallen women who wanted to get help seeking alternate careers.
Their bed became the centre of their universe as they loved, chatted, played and worked on their new schemes. If the paper got crumpled or the ink spilled, no one ever complained, and they found some fascinating new uses for the feathered end of the quill.
Gone was the quiet and withdrawn Althea. In her place was a joyous and radiant young woman, the goddess Eswara had told her was just waiting to come out into the light to be worshipped by Matthew. And worship her he did, even more than the charming little girl with the kittens he had once been so taken by.
At last reality and urgent business intruded on their honeymoon idyll in the form of a letter from Bristol asking Matthew to come in to see his bank manager about reallocating some funds in his vast portfolio.
She had awakened that morning to find Matthew's face buried against her feminine core. He had been sound asleep, but as he'd gradually awakened he had slowly stirred her as well with long, languid licks which had filled her limbs with lassitude.
For once there wasn't the burning urgency to drive them both to completion, but a gentle rising and falling passion like the swell of the sea. He had treasured her so completely, they'd both been moved to tears by the tenderness.
He was so reluctant to part with her that he resumed his position once more with his head resting on her mound, his arms wrapped tightly about her thighs and breasts, and said he would go to Bristol some other time.
But Althea felt guilty that he was neglecting important work, and so coaxed him into the bathtub, pampered him until he was breathless, and cajoled him until he agreed to go. But only if she joined him in the tub for a small tidal wave or two.
By noon they were just about dressed, and she had him half way out the bedroom door despite more of his delaying tactics.
"No, darling, really, put that down, and let's go," she said, tugging his hand to lead him to the front door.
"You know how much I adore tickling your fancy."
"And you know just how ticklish I can be. But you need to go tend to your financial matters."
Still he lingered, his eyes beseeching. "Oh, very well, If I can't persuade you to go on a wild ride with me..."
"No, you can't. And I'm not going to Bristol with you either. But don't just stand their pouting. The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll come home to me. And then I'll let you have your feather back."
She gave him a playful sidelong glance, and brushed it up and down the massive bulge in his trousers. He gripped her around the waist and kissed her long and ardently.
"Promise?"
"I promise."
He gazed down at her, and she felt their eyes lock.
"Matthew."
"Althea," he said at precisely the same time.
"You first," they both said, and both laughed in embarrassment.
"No, really, you go ahead, Matthew. The carriage is waiting. What is it?"
His turquoise eyes had gone as deep and dark as the sea. "I just, well, I just wanted to say thank you for all you've taught me. The Tantra, about yourself, and even about me. For sharing your life with me, for making me the happiest of men. All the dreams and hopes we've shared, all the magnificent sides of your character."
"Oh, darling--"
"I knew you were lovely, and knew it wasn't only skin-deep. But nothing ever prepared me for the absolute and complete joy of being with you day and night. So thank you, my dearest love."
"Oh, Matthew," she sighed, stretching up to kiss him. It was a most tender and unsolicited declaration of love, and as such was to be treasured all the more.
"Thank you. I feel exactly same, all the time. Just so long as you're not saying that to avoid going to take care of your business, and trying to get your feather back." She gave him a broad smile.
He grinned back at her. "No, I meant every word, love. But now that you mention it..."
"No, go to Bristol, and I'll see you later. Let this keep you warm until then." Althea kissed him once more, and with a lusty cupping of one of his buttocks which made him start and blush, she pushed him gently out the door.
He blew her a kiss, and she returned it and waved. She sighed pensively as she watched him head down the drive.
Althea would have gone with him, but she was almost glad of the respite so she could be alone with her private thoughts. Could plan a wonderful homecoming for Matthew and tell him her momentous news, which she had been just about to blurt out...
She was as sure as she could be. Six weeks had passed since their miraculous night of love after Blake and Arabella's ball, and the hope between them that they were trying for a baby. Neither of them were taking the trouble to worry about contraception any longer. Oh, wouldn't it be wonderful....
A quick trip to see Eswara as soon as Matthew had taken his tender leave of her confirmed all of her bright hopes. She returned to the house hugging her joyous knowledge to her, reliving the wonderful affectionate manner in which he had departed.
There had been no fear in his eyes, and no jealousy raging in her breast, just a certain knowledge of their love being eternal. And there had also been a promise to renew that pledge as soon as they were together once more.
Matthew had had a great number of doubts about himself, but he had proven more than capable of facing the challenges of a being a good and loving husband. She was sure that being a devoted father to their child would be as natural for him as breathing.
She was just about to go upstairs to prepare few more romantic surprises courtesy of Eswara for his homecoming when Philip Marshall strode into the drawing room looking more agitated than she had ever imagined possible for such a calm, worldly man.
"Forgive me for presuming to come here like this, Althea. But I need your help," he said without preamble.
She stared, but nodded and said, "Anything, Philip, only please sit and stop looking so wild. What on earth has happened? Is Jasmine all right?"
"She is fine, very well," he said with a tight smile. "But my cousin Angelica's daughter Patrice has gone missing. She's only fourteen."
Althea gazed at him in horror. "Oh no! When, where?"
"I just got the letter now from Enfield. So it must be at least five days ago. Forgive me. I need to ask you--"
"Go on, ask me what?"
"Forgive me," he said, rubbing his brow with one hand as though trying to untangle a knot there. "I don't want to bring up anything unpleasant, but well-- When you were taken captive, was there anything you can remember about where you were kept that might lead us to the man or men who seized you?"
Her eyes widened. "Oh no, Philip, surely you don't think--"
But even as she began to prote
st, she knew. Knew, and trembled.
He fixed her with a hard stare from his remarkable sherry-brown eyes. He weighed, assessed, his gaze like a caress, though with nothing threatening or lewd about it.
She could see it for what it was. It was the gaze of an honest man who wanted everything laid out in the open between them. A man who could be trusted implicitly, though her fears told her that he had brought danger to her doorstep once more. The gaze of a man desperate for her help. And only she had the power to give it to him.
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