“So be it.” Julian pulled back and looked me in the eyes. He placed his hands on my shoulders, leaning down to kiss me gently and pulling me close. I ran my hands up his chest, breathing him in. The touch of his lips made me tremble, and I sighed, letting my eyes flutter closed for a moment.
He stroked the length of my sides, coming around the front to pull open the cloak and toss it into the corner of the room. He slid his hands slowly to the back of my dress, fumbling with the buttons holding it closed.
“Here,” I said, pulling away from him slightly and turning to present my back to him, my cheeks burning from embarrassment. “It’s more practical.”
“But not exactly romantic for a wedding night,” Julian said. He hurriedly slipped the buttons free and pushed the sleeves down, freeing my arms so the dress sagged down my body.
“Practicality is very romantic,” I said, fighting the urge to bring my hands up to cover myself from his eyes. “Instead of fumbling with the inconsequential bits, you can move on to the more pleasurable aspects.”
“More pleasurable aspects? What exactly would those be, my darling girl? A tickle perhaps?” Julian asked, his voice husky against the side of my neck as he let his fingers skitter down my sides, making me squirm.
He stopped tickling me and wrapped his arms around my hips, lifting me easily out of the puddle of the dress. He turned me around and pulled me against his chest again. “Darling girl, we have all night for the more pleasurable aspects of our marriage, as you call them. There’s no need to worry about rushing.”
“But—”
“Shhh.” He reached out to put his finger over my lips. “Just let me take care of you.”
I reached for his suit jacket to push it off his shoulders and he stepped away from me. “Julian—”
“There’s no need to rush, and contrary to what you might believe, undressing you is hardly inconsequential.” He unclasped the hooks of my corset, his eyes fixed on the low neckline of my chemise.
I took a deep breath and tried not to shake as he slowly peeled the rest of my clothes off me, his eyes dark. It was like looking into the face of a deadly predator and realizing that not only was I his prey, but he also had me cornered with no hope of escape.
He slipped out of his own jacket and untied his cravat, stepping closer to me, and I backed up instinctively, my fight or flight instincts screaming so hard that I was surprised I hadn’t spontaneously sprouted feathers.
“You are the loveliest woman I’ve ever seen.” Julian stepped closer, wrapped his hand around the nape of my neck, and brought me close enough to kiss.
“And have you seen many naked women, husband?” I asked before he kissed me again.
“Hundreds,” Julian said quietly. “Then again, my father does have one of the most sought after collections of Greek sculpture in England.”
“And are all the women you’ve seen naked made of marble?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow as he smiled.
“I’m sure not all of them were,” he said. “But right now I can’t remember a single one who wasn’t. They’ve all fled from my memory.”
He forced his lips against mine in a demanding kiss, wrapped his arms around my waist, and lifted me up so that I was kneeling on the mattress. He broke away from me briefly to pull off the rest of his clothes and crawled onto the bed on his knees to face me, bringing my face back to his for another kiss.
I tightened my grip around his neck and pulled his body against mine, trying to find a way to melt into him, to ease the burn in my skin. He deepened the kiss as I struggled to get closer still. I leaned backwards, trying to drag him along with me so that all of our skin could touch at once, and lost my balance, toppling backwards onto the mattress.
“Oomph,” Julian said as he landed on top of me. “I take it this was the more pleasurable aspect you were referring to?”
“I’m not sure.” I laughed as he nuzzled his nose against my collarbone and then started kissing his way along my shoulder. “You’re my husband, perhaps if you can remember something more than your marble beauties you could instruct me.”
“With pleasure,” he said, his voice nothing more than a low growl.
He moved his head lower, bringing his mouth down on my nipple, and I arched at the coils of pleasure that arced through my body like a spark of gaslight. He palmed my breast and continued to lick and nibble while I moaned beneath him.
This was what it must feel like inside the fires of one of those new engines that were being used to build horseless carriages. What had the scientific journal I read called them? Internal combustion engines? That was exactly what this feeling was—internal combustion along every place that he kissed.
He slid lower, his tongue snaking along the length of my stomach, before he slipped between my legs and let his mouth trail down from my navel to the jointure where my torso and my legs met. When he brought his mouth to my center, my bones melted into liquid and flames raced through my veins.
“Now this,” he said against my feverish skin, “was one of those pleasurable aspects we’d been discussing.”
He moved upwards and took me in his arms. “If you’re going to change your mind,” he said as he shifted so that I could feel his arousal between my legs, “now would be the time.”
Instead of answering, I wrapped my arms around his neck and tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling his face down for a kiss. He gripped the sheets in two tight fistfuls then pressed his hips against mine.
A sharp pain lanced through the sensitive flesh where we were joined, and I seriously began to have second thoughts about not joining the convent when I was younger. I had been warned that wedding nights were uncomfortable and awkward, but I was beginning to think that my university professors might have been a little more forthcoming about the pain.
I whimpered but he didn’t still, pushing forward with a steady pressure, filling and stretching me until I thought I would cry out. “Shhh,” he said soothingly against my lips. “The worst of it’s over now.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
Instead of answering he reached down to wrap my left leg around his hip and pulled back slightly. He slid forward again slowly and there was a brief tingle of pleasure at the movement. Suddenly the pain from a moment before seemed negligible compared to the new ache I felt low in my stomach, the one that seemed to only ease when he slid closer.
He moved slowly against me and the ache grew, flames of desire licking along my skin as his hips met mine over and over again. He kept his lips close to mine, alternating between deep, soul searching kisses and light, tender pecks against my lips and cheeks.
Then he began to shift more forcefully, his body more demanding, and the ache turned to fire and exploded low in my stomach, and the world spun out of control around me as pleasure racked my body. Through my haze of pleasure, I heard Julian groan and his hips snapped forward one last time before he stilled on top of me.
When I had managed to regain my senses, he rolled onto his back and pulled me into his side. “Go to sleep now,” he said quietly and kissed the crown of my head. “We should arrive in Paris sometime mid-morning.”
“What do you think will happen when we land?” I asked, cuddling against him.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But whatever it is, I think we’ll need to be well rested.”
I closed my eyes and drifted, letting his warmth and the movements of the airship rock me to sleep. I woke a few hours later and found myself alone in the tiny room. I tried to slip back into oblivion, but couldn’t help but wonder what sort of man left his bed on his wedding night.
Chapter Five
Could he be regretting our hasty marriage? Had our wedding night been disappointing? Had I been disappointing?
I pulled the blankets up over my naked breasts and hunched my shoulders together, feeling vulnerable and exposed. Would he want to annul the marriage when we reached Paris? Not that I could blame him. He didn’t really want me, he just wanted free of his father’
s chokehold over his life.
Now that the legalities had been taken care of, I didn’t expect that he’d want to bother bedding me again. I felt my cheeks flame. Not that I would have minded. Even if I barely knew him, my new husband was smart, charming, and dangerously handsome. He’d also been a considerate lover and almost sweet.
It was unlikely that he’d want to have much more to do with me regardless. What we had was an alliance for mutual survival disguised as matrimony, not a loving marriage like my parents had enjoyed.
No, I reminded myself. We would be friends, partners of the mind. Scientific colleagues who happened to share a home and a last name. Then, if at some point he decided he wanted an heir, perhaps we could negotiate a more physical relationship if he wanted. Otherwise I’d have to be content as his wife and, like so many other women in the aristocracy, turn a blind eye if he chose to indulge in his physical pleasures elsewhere.
My heart clenched at the thought of Julian taking a lover, and my eyes burned with tears. I sniffled and then rubbed the back of my hand over my eyes, scrubbing at the wetness on my cheeks. I heard the creak of the cabin door opening and dashed my hands over my eyes again a final time before turning my face away, pretending to stare out the porthole and into the dark night sky.
“Aida?” Julian’s voice was soft. “Is something troubling you?”
“No.” I heard my voice waver and inwardly cursed myself for being a weak-willed ninny. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Aida.” His voice sounded wary now, and I could hear him moving about our tiny cabin, kicking off his boots, dropping his coat over the room’s only tiny chair. I heard the soft rustle of fabric and peeked over my shoulder so see him slipping out of his trousers before I jerked my face back around toward the porthole.
“Aida.” I felt the bed dip and a brief rush of cold air as he slid under the blankets with me. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gently turned me so that my head was resting against his linen-covered chest, trying to hide how vulnerable I felt at the idea that we’d be having this conversation while he was clothed and I was not.
“What’s troubling you?” Julian asked.
“I woke up and you were gone,” I said, immediately feeling foolish.
“Oh.” Julian shifted, and I thought he might be embarrassed. He leaned down to kiss the crown of my head. “It was nothing.”
“Where did you go?”
“Oh, um.” He coughed. “The airmen’s head.”
“The what?” I pulled back and looked at him. “Did you say you woke up, got out of bed and dressed, and walked through the freezing night air to the other end of the ship just to use the head? Why? There’s a chamber pot under the bed.”
“Well,” Julian pulled his eyes away from mine and I watched as his cheeks flamed a brilliant—lovely—pink. “I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Upset me?”
“Your, um, more delicate sensibilities.”
“Oh.” I giggled. “I see. Thank you for the thought. It was very gentlemanly of you, but I have two younger brothers and work in a shop full of male engineers. The idea of a man stepping behind a screen to have a piss won’t send me into a fit of the vapors.”
“I’ll remember that next time, especially since it was blasted cold out there. Now, it wasn’t just waking alone that upset you was it? You don’t seem the type to resort to tears for such a trivial excuse.”
“I just…” I huffed and looked down at my hands. Instead of letting me avoid his eyes, Julian put his fingertips under my chin and gently lifted it so we were eye to eye again.
“That’s better. Now, you were saying?”
“I just thought you might have regretted our rather hasty actions tonight. You had drunk a rather large quantity of whiskey and it was a rather rash action and we do barely know each other. And I know that I might not be what you wanted in a wife and if you wanted a lover I would understand. I would be dreadfully disappointed, but—”
“Pardon?” Julian scowled. “I may have misheard you but did you just consent to allowing me, your brand new husband, to take a lover? A paramour?”
“Well…” I swallowed as his eyes blazed, and I instinctively shrank back from him. “If you wanted to, I couldn’t really stop you.”
“And will you be taking lovers? Since we’re being so frank with each other? Should I expect to see Prince Leopold coming round for tea when we return to London?”
“What?” I leaned away from him, afraid now that perhaps my new husband was more volatile than I’d first expected.
“Do you intend to take a lover when we return to England?” he asked angrily and I could feel my body beginning to tremble.
“No?” I said and my voice squeaked. I coughed, trying to take control of my voice again. “I mean, no of course not. I wouldn’t humiliate you that way, but if you wanted to deal with your needs—”
“Deal with my needs?” Julian narrowed his eyes at me and then tugged his shirt off over his head before tossing it across the room. “You’ll allow me to go where I want to deal with my needs?”
“No? I mean yes? I mean what are you doing?” I tried to pull farther away from him, but my back hit the wall, and I was trapped.
“Convincing you that I have no need—or desire—to go anywhere else to meet my rather misunderstood needs.”
“But I mean your father.” I braced my hands in front of my chest, trying to keep some distance between the two of us long enough for me to explain that I understood why he’d married me and I didn’t want him to feel like he was obligated to be a proper husband.
“Will most likely disinherit me.” Julian scooted closer and took my hands in his, kissing each of the palms in turn.
“Because of me.” I swatted at him with my left hand as he began to nibble at the tip of my right pointer finger.
“I understand if you don’t hold me in very high regard. I mean, I’d like for us to be friends as well as man and wife. I don’t expect that you love me but I’d like to believe that we can find ourselves in a place where we feel not just respect but friendship for each other.”
“Aida.” He lifted his head from my fingers but didn’t let go of my hand. “I know our marriage is highly unconventional, completely backwards if we’re being honest with each other. Most people in my class don’t marry for love; they marry for advantage or to please their families.”
“They don’t?”
“No, they neither like nor love nor respect the person they find themselves harnessed to in this life and they’re eternally miserable, chaffing inside the yoke of matrimony. And while it’s true that we didn’t marry for love either, I’d like to believe that we married to please ourselves. That while we may not find ourselves in a place of dizzying and limitless love, we do like and respect each other a great deal. Am I wrong?”
“No.” I kept my eyes fixed on his.
“I find you more than passably attractive as well and I’d like to think that, perhaps, you don’t find me ill-favored. Do you?”
My cheeks flamed, and I immediately dropped my eyes to the sheet that wasn’t doing much to cover either of us anymore.
“I’ll take that as a no then?” Julian laughed softly. “So, I’d say we’re in a rather good position to start a marriage. We like and respect each other, we’re attracted to each other, and we seem compatible in a variety of situations.”
I felt my cheeks burn brighter and wondered if it was possible to burst into flames from embarrassment alone.
“We’re in a much better place than most other marriages begin,” Julian said, “and if we’re lucky, perhaps the rest may grow in time. Now come here.”
“Why?” I looked up as he snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me close enough so that we were touching from shoulder to knee.
“Because I intend to show you how ridiculous of an idea it is that I would want to take a lover when I’ve found myself married to such an amazing creature as you.”
Chapter Six
&nbs
p; “I feel more than a little conspicuous,” I said the next morning as I patted my hair and, after having given up on making it look presentable, smoothed down my skirts. It was time to disembark. “I’m still in my gown from your father’s ball. People will stare.”
Julian handed me the wrinkled cloak. It smelled musty and looked extremely unsavory, but I knew it would be cold on deck, so practicality and the bitter Parisian morning won out. “People will stare regardless. When I went to the head last night I could hear some of the other male passengers on the upper deck promenade gossiping about our elopement.”
“Of course they were.” I rolled my eyes—it was almost a universal law; leave two Englishmen together and gossip was sure to follow in their wake. “But I do wonder what Putnam’s cousin will say when you arrive on his doorstep with your new bride in a wrinkled ball gown.”
“Consider it part of the adventure, my love,” Julian said, leading me into the hallway and closing the captain’s door behind us.
“About to land, my lord,” one of the apprentices said, his voice tinged with sarcasm, and gave Julian a curt nod before turning to me with a smirk. “My lady.”
“Pardon me?” Julian asked, his eyes wide at the boy’s flip greeting, and I reached out to clutch his arm, hoping he wouldn’t make a scene.
“His Lordship means thank you and good morning,” I said hurriedly.
“You’re welcome, my lady. I hope your stay has been…” The apprentice paused, and he let his eyes travel the length of my rumpled ball gown. “Pleasant.”
“It’s been a delight.” Julian stepped forward so that he was looming over the boy, every inch the angered aristocrat. “Come, wife. We’ll want to be on deck to see the landing.”
“Of course,” I muttered, my head down and my cheeks flaming.
Julian huffed as we reached the top of the stairs, and he turned to stare at me. “Are you quite all right? That boy didn’t upset you, did he? If he has, I’ll deal with him, perhaps dangle him from his ankles over the side of the ship as we start our descent and keep him there until he learns it’s a treacherous business eying another man’s wife. I could take him, you know.”
A Riveting Affair (Entangled Ever After) Page 15