“Where do we go?” she gasped in excitement.
Before answering, Julian put one hand under her chin, tipping her head back to claim her lips for a scorching kiss. Every muscle in her body turned to jelly as she melted against him.
He pulled back with a look of such desire in his eyes, her heart leapt
“Hullo.”
His eyes were a stormy grey, his dark skin setting off the white of his teeth as he smiled at her.
“Good morn,” she breathed back.
He grinned, tightening his arms about her, and she turned back around as the horse continued on.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Trust you not to debauch me in the most evil of ways? Absolutely not!”
She giggled at the look on his face, but he responded with a simple, “Smart girl.”
“I mean it, Julian!” She tugged on his sleeve. “Where are we going?”
“To a place with more privacy than the river bank. ‘Twill make the debauchery that much easier and far more delicious.” She looked back in time to see him waggle his eyebrows suggestively.
Her heart began to pound and unfamiliar moisture pooled between her legs. So this was desire! She couldn’t believe she could be so wanton.
She frowned. Paul had never inspired this kind of desire in her. Did that mean something? Her inner voice argued that Paul was simply too much of a gentleman to take such liberties with her, and Julian was brazen. It was that, and the illicitness of the affair that excited her. It must be so.
They traveled in a companionable silence away from the river until a small, ramshackle round stone hut came into view. The thatch on the roof needed replacing, but it appeared a stable enough building. It looked long abandoned. As Julian tied Mercury to a tree and left him to graze, then led her inside, she could see someone, probably Julian himself, had been there recently and readied it for their arrival. There were fresh logs in the hearth and a flagon of wine and two pewter goblets had been set upon a wooden table. Izzy’s glance immediately went to the small pallet against the back wall. It was obvious the ticking had recently been replaced and clean white sheets adorned it.
She swallowed hard.
Julian motioned about the hut with a hand. “Does this please you? I thought it might be best to stay indoors, where people can’t surprise us as your cousin did, yesterday.”
“You did all this for me?”
“Well, not all for you. I have plans of my own, you see.” He waggled those raven brows again. She couldn’t keep from laughing.
“This is perfect, Julian. Truly.”
“Good.” His voice had turned silky. What she was beginning to call the “I’m about to kiss you look” crossed his face.
He stepped to her side and cradled her cheek with his hand, lifting her mouth to his. As before, as soon as their mouths fused, a conflagration exploded between them, like a spark set to gunpowder. Helpless to resist, he swept her off to that heavenly place his kisses took her. Her nipples went taut as she pressed herself against him with a gasp.
Julian bent and lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the pallet, where he gently laid her upon it. Her pulse slammed in her veins with both excitement and fear of the unknown. He would take her virginity on this pallet.
His hands were everywhere at once, in her hair, cradling her face, sliding down her body. He divested her of the linen shirt and bent his head to her breasts, worshipping them the way he’d done yesterday.
She slipped her hands under his linen shirt, wanting to see all of him, taste him, as he tasted her. His hands joined hers to facilitate the removal of the garment and then he lay next to her, bronzed and magnificent. A shudder escaped as she inspected the hard planes of his chest, his wonderfully wide shoulders, the ridged muscles of his belly leading down to the waistband of his breeches. With one fingertip she traced the dips and ridges before her, running it across his shoulder and down his arm, then across his stomach and back up to his pectoral. His muscles jumped beneath her light touch and his breathing grew heavy but he held still and allowed her to explore.
Curiosity to discover what lay beneath his breeches gnawed at her, but she wasn’t quite brave enough yet to reach so boldly for him. Instead, she leaned over and flicked her tongue against his nipple, surprised when he sucked in his breath, hard. It delighted her that he liked that as much as she liked when he did it to her.
Her hands slid up his chest, over his strong shoulders, reveling in the feel of his warm flesh and the dark hairs on his forearms that tickled her hands on their journey. She wrapped her arms around to his back, feeling the muscles there flexing in response to her touch, and tugged at him, pulling him over her so she could kiss him again.
It was as if he’d been holding himself back during her exploration, because the moment their mouths met again, he took control. Cupping her breasts, he rolled her nipples between his fingers as his tongue forced its way deeper into her mouth.
Then his hands floated downward and she knew he was about to remove her breeches. For an instant she stiffened, the reality of the situation crashing upon her along with the magnitude of the moment, and the choice she’d made to do this insane thing. Except, remembering his gentle touch of yesterday, her anxiety dissolved and she gave herself over to his worshipping hands.
After removing her boots, he peeled the breeches down her legs in an agonizingly slow manner, almost as if he were taking his time unwrapping a much anticipated gift. As the cool air in the hut blew over her, emphasizing the wetness between her legs, shyness struck her and she couldn’t meet his eyes and stared at his full lips instead. But when he removed the breeches he gazed down at her nude body with such reverence and desire, the shyness faded and she reveled in her nakedness, suddenly emboldened and alive. Powerful. Heat burned in his eyes and she wanted, nay needed, every part of his body pressed against hers. She put her arms out, beckoning him to her, and he returned to capture her lips.
Then his mouth was gone, slowly making its way around to her ear, where he used the tip of his tongue to lick circles around her sensitive flesh before drawing her earlobe into his mouth and suckling. She arched beneath him at the contact. Who knew earlobes could be so sensitive?
His lips continued their path, nibbling at the pulsing vein in her throat, before laving kisses in the hollow at the base of her neck. As he drew nearer to her breasts, her anticipation grew so great she couldn’t contain a low moan of need. He chuckled against her skin. Oh, he knew what she wanted, but he meant to tease. Someday soon, she’d pay him back in kind for this sweet torment.
And then he drew the crest of her breast into his mouth and all thought of vengeance fled, replaced only with sensation. Desire traveled down her body directly to that spot between her thighs where heavy moisture leaked anew. His touch left her hot and shivery at the same time.
His hands wrapped around her waist, spanning her front and slowly moving down, his mouth following in their path. When he combed through the curls between her legs, Izzy arched her hips upward, needing his touch so desperately. Her head thrashed on the pillow and she cried his name, urging his hands to move faster, to quench her burning desire faster, even as she wondered if such a desperate need could ever be satisfied.
He didn’t heed her demands. Instead, his hands slid to the inside of her thighs, pushing them apart. She resisted for only a single instant before she surrendered, feeling more vulnerable than ever before in her life. His thumbs crept closer to the place that ached. Her breath hitched with anticipation as she wondered if he would ever touch her where she needed it most.
“Julian, please,” she panted.
He laughed low, a wicked sound that caused a strange flutter in her belly. “Relax, love. I intend to give you everything you need.”
He applied pressure with each thumb between her inner thighs and the swollen flesh between her legs. She moaned with delight. If he didn’t touch her where she most needed it, and soo
n, she would die.
And then, soft and light, like a gentle breeze in the summer, his breath feathered against her heated skin. She tore her head off the pillow to stare down at him, but at that instant he leaned in, using his tongue in one long slow motion to lick the entire length of her folds.
She gasped and fell back against the pillow, head spinning as this new sensation bombarded her with pleasure even as shock coursed through her at the intimate thing he was doing. Julian slid his hands beneath her buttocks, lifting her, and set to work pleasuring her with his tongue and lips.
She moaned as his tongue slid like fire against her wet flesh in wide, long strokes. The tip delved into her folds until he found that magical spot he’d awakened in her yesterday, laving it with his tongue.
She arched against his mouth, gasping, hands clawing at the sheets beneath her from the sheer pleasure of what he was doing.
Using his lips, he drew the small nub into his mouth and suckled, and she was lost. A crescendo began to build in her body as each breath became uneven and she reached for release in desperation. As he grazed her gently with his teeth, the crescendo built to an intolerable level and finally crashed, and the pleasure splintered throughout her entire body. She cried out in ecstasy.
Julian’s tongue delved deep into her folds as she peaked, lapping up every bit of moisture which escaped as she convulsed inside. His tongue kept time with each spasm and it was too much, she was too sensitized, she couldn’t take anymore of the sweet torment. But his hands held her captive and his mouth feasted on her until she collapsed back onto the bed, unmoving.
For a moment, the only audible sound was the harsh breathing coming from them both. Izzy didn’t have the energy to lift her head from the pillow. Julian moved from between her legs and returned to her side, where he drew her snugly into the crook of his arm, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple.
Yet even from a haze of satiation she knew he was unsatisfied, his rampant arousal obvious through his breeches. She cursed her naivety, as she didn’t know what to do for him.
When she could gather breath to speak, she turned to him “Julian?”
“Hmm?”
It was hard for her to say the words, but after the intimacy they’d just shared, how could she be ashamed to discuss anything with him?
“Why didn’t you make love to me?”
He raised an eyebrow and a humorous glint lit his eyes. “If that wasn’t making love to you, I don’t know what would be.”
Heat flooded her face, but she held his gaze. “But you weren’t satisfied.”
“Sweetheart, the taste of you coupled with your sweet cries was one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever experienced.”
His boldness shocked and titillated at the same time.
His expression softened. “Are you asking if I’m unsatisfied because I didn’t penetrate you and gain release as you did?”
She bit her lip and nodded, knowing her face must be as red as the soldiers’ coats of Cromwell’s New Model Army.
His voice turned husky. “God, I want to bury myself so deep inside you, you have no idea how much. And I will, soon. But it will be so good if we draw this out slowly. I promise, Sweetheart. By the time I finally make love to you fully, the anticipation will take us to heights you’ve never even dreamed of.”
She found it hard to believe, but then again until yesterday she’d never dreamed of the place he’d taken her today. If he said it was best to wait, then she would gladly acquiesce and let him set the pace. As long as he didn’t wait too long. Her wedding was approaching as quickly as a runaway carriage, only three weeks from now, and time was fast running out.
***
Ram held Izzy in his arms, the urge to roll over and thrust inside her one he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist much longer. It was going to be a long three weeks.
Her passion awed him. The trust she’d given him over her body humbled him. No matter how hard his cock was at this moment, no matter how much his brain berated him for an idiot, no matter how much every muscle quivered with agonized need to bed her right now, he would take his time and do this right. She was to be his bride and deserved to be initiated into lovemaking in the most pleasurable of ways. And if he had to take a dip in the cold river to keep his heated body under control, then he would do so.
But Holy God, her passion! Never had he taken a woman to bed who’d responded to his touch with such unrestrained inhibition. She possessed such innate sensuality, and it was headier than any wine ever to get him soused. She was nothing like he expected when he’d imagined his faceless bride. She was sweet for Chrissakes, utterly adorable, as well as sensual. She’d turned his entire world upside down in a matter of days. And he wasn’t sorry for it!
She shifted against him and he glanced at her face, noticing her muscles had relaxed as she dozed against him. Protectiveness the likes of which he’d never felt before rose and he swore then he’d do anything to protect this woman.
He frowned, thinking of the wedding day to come. She wasn’t going to be happy when she discovered this deception. But hopefully, in the weeks leading up to that day he’d bind her to him with sensuality and desire, and perhaps even love, and that would lessen the sting. God knew he was half in love with her already. They would weather the storm and someday look back on these days with fondness and humor.
Oh Lord, the irony of it all! A handful of days ago he’d wanted nothing more than to find a way to avoid being leg shackled to this woman. Now he wanted her as his wife more than he’d ever imagined wanting any woman. And suddenly, their chance meeting seemed like a stroke of luck. Instead of the cold, uncomfortable meeting that no doubt would have taken place if they’d met as strangers on their wedding day, he now had a chance to court her, without the usual restrictions and expectations. And he’d have the chance to earn her trust, to initiate his bride gently into lovemaking, assuring that she’d have no qualms in their bedchamber, that she’d find no fear in any act between them, that she’d experience no shame in anything that brought them mutual pleasure.
He’d promised Belinda he would leave Izzy’s virginity intact until their wedding night, but at this rate, he wouldn’t last another day. His body screamed for release, and not just from any woman. His body needed hers. She called to him like a siren, and he wouldn’t be able to resist much longer, no matter the nobility of his intentions.
When she woke, he’d invent an excuse that would take him away for a few days, put some distance between them. It was for the best.
Chapter 8
It was the worst thing that could have happened!
As Julian had brought her back to the riverbank after the earth shattering experience in the small hut, he’d told her he would be gone from the county for days, perhaps even as long as a se’nnight!
Seven days? She didn’t have seven days! The infernal wedding was less than three weeks away and her virginity still very much intact. Her already desperate situation was now frantic.
As she walked home alone, thoughts tumbled through her mind in rapid succession. She could venture into town and find another man willing to do the deed.
Yet that somehow felt unfair to Julian. The thought made her gasp in despair. Her faithfulness shouldn’t be pledged to Julian, but to Paul, dear, dear Paul. Whom she loved with all her heart.
But, Oh, God. She didn’t feel guilt for betraying Paul when she was with Julian. She didn’t think of Paul at all.
She meandered along the riverbank towards the manor house. Paul had been gone so long. But her love for him burned just as bright as when she’d last seen him, though it grew harder to conjure the memory of his face the more days that went by.
Oh, Paul, she sighed, as she picked up a rock and skipped it across the waters of the River Camel. Where are you? Parliament, under the leadership of General Monck, had invited the king to reclaim his country over a year ago, yet Paul had not yet returned.
Izzy had been so young when the Civil War arrived almost
literally at their garden gate and become reality. Until then her father had remained neutral, hoping the political crisis between King and Parliament might be resolved without bloodshed.
But war came to Cornwall when Cromwell himself, with his troop of dragoons and fighting men, came to take Wadebridge, so close to Rendstell Manor. But things had calmed again with the winding down of the first Civil War.
When war broke out again a year later, Izzy’s father decided it was too dangerous for them to remain in their home in Cornwall, especially since her eldest brothers had once again fought for Charles. Parliament had granted Loyal Royalists from the first civil war parole in exchange for their oath not to take up arms again. During the second Civil War, Cromwell was swift to execute any Royalists who’d disregarded that oath.
Once King Charles was beheaded, her father made the strategic decision to send Izzy, her mother, and Belinda to France where there was more stability, to stay with relatives of her mother. Then, two of Izzy’s brothers had fought with the new King Charles at Worcester, but the royalist forces had met with defeat. The government seized Papa’s lands and exile had been the only viable option. Her father claimed it was his preference anyway, as he wouldn’t live under the command of the religious zealot who set about turning England into a nation held captive to Cromwell’s God.
So many other Royalist exiles ended up abroad during the long years of Cromwell’s reign, following Charles and his ragtag court from Jersey, to St. Germain, and finally to Breda. The forced banishment from England was hard for them all and rumors of various uprisings were always whispered about, and indeed, Prince Rupert commanded troops made up of English exiles in the French army, ever looking for an opportunity to reclaim England for their poverty-stricken King without a country. Izzy’s father invested nearly every pence he had for the cause of restoring the monarchy. Her brothers were instrumental in both fighting and ferreting information to and from the King and his advisors during the interregnum. Life became exciting, but uncertain.
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