He looked down, his tender heart reluctant to the end. "I've had many in my life."
"Aye, Nicholas—but you've never had me."
Nicholas felt his chest fill again, and he fought it, struggled against the coming pain and the emptiness—until he realized that the feeling was radiant and spiraling upward. His wife was mad and wonderful and warm, and if there were bright, persistent angels, she must be his—his redemption come to earth, as undeniable as the coming of spring.
"Will you marry me, Eleanor?" He picked her up into his arms, and her blanket fell away.
"Oh, my love, as often as you ask me."
His heart soaring, he carried his wife to their marriage bed. There he settled her back against the pillows and knelt in the joining of her legs.
"Do you know, wife, that this bed was given to us as a wedding present?"
She smiled and lifted her arm. "Mmmmm. Time we put it to good use, husband."
He groaned from deep inside, made love to her mouth, and to her throat, took his time with the backs of her knees and her fingers. Her eyes were smoky and daring, and while he plied his mouth to her breast, imagining the children they would have, she slid her stealthy fingers down his stomach until she reached the root of him.
"Woman, you—" But he hadn't been prepared for her boldness, for her fingers wrapped around him.
"Please, Nicholas. Inspecting the goods."
"Please, Eleanor." He ground his teeth and rode the sensations, the fluting of her fingers, until he was whispering for her to stop. "I'm too fond of this."
"Now, Nicholas. Please." She tilted her hips to meet him, and he met that place she'd offered him so boldly. He was at the end of his tether, could last no longer.
"I don't want to hurt you, my love." She was tight and tender and writhing against him.
"Just come to me, husband. Join with me." She arched her back and pressed her heels to his backside—and took him just inside.
"Oh, my love." Without another breath, Nicholas propelled himself mindlessly, heard her shocked sigh, and then her crooning.
"Married, Nicholas."
"Forever."
Her husband held himself above her, smiling broadly, his eyes misted, their corners crinkled, and she felt a quiet pulsing rhythm begin to build within her, matched within him.
"Are you all right?"
"Oh, my, Nicholas. I've never in my life been righter." She loved the hot pleasure that licked between them, like the currents off the sea. She couldn't get enough of him—held him and encouraged him and strained toward him, with him, feeling ripe and wanted, her skin made of sunlight.
"You are magnificent, wife. My wife. I will say that a thousand times a day." His voice was jubilant as he roared out his joy, rocking her in his slow, pounding rhythm toward a place she'd never been before.
"Come with me, sweet." Nicholas's voice was a kiss, sweet and tucked against her ear.
"Anywhere, Nicholas." This wondrous feeling of being part of Nicholas, which turned her limbs light and languid, was a maddening, never-quite-far-enough euphoria—then a surge of pure, white-hot pleasure began where she was joined to him.
"Nicholas, I— Oh, my—I—" The pleasure grew and spread and became wave after cresting wave of bliss, and had her gasping, calling out his name until she was weeping.
Nicholas came up on his hands, her amazing husband, her miracle, thrusting himself into her while she pulled him deeper, nearer, until he finally thickened inside her and went still, his muscles flexed—
"I love you, Eleanor!" And then he was pouring his seed into her, their child, the rest of their lives. The thought sent her over another cloud, through another rainbow. She drifted from there, calling out to Nicholas.
And he was waiting there with his lopsided smile, his eyes damp, making her feel so well loved.
"Well, my dear wife, what shall we say to Edward?"
She nuzzled his chin and settled into his shoulder, marveling that they fit together so perfectly, in their hearts and in their marriage bed.
"I'll tell him that I found my husband in my castle, and that I'm going to keep him."
He rolled atop her, holding his weight on his elbows, sheltering them both. "Our castle, my love."
"Oh, Nicholas, our home—forevermore."
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The Maiden Bride Page 23