What was going on here? Shouldn’t a bedchamber have more furniture than this? Sure, it was for guests, but still…
With a sigh, he got under the covers of the bed and settled on his back. Thankfully, there was enough space between him and Ophelia so that he didn’t have to touch her. That would probably be his undoing. It was bad enough he’d already been subjected to everything else. He might be a vicar, but he was still a man. He could only hope his erection would go away soon.
He brought the covers up to his chin and closed his eyes. He wasn’t in the habit of reciting old poems he’d grown up memorizing, but they required a good amount of concentration. This might just be the thing he needed to fall asleep.
“Julian?” Ophelia asked.
Drat! He’d just gotten through the first stanza of the most difficult poem to recite. Keeping his eyes closed, he replied with a, “What?” in hopes he could return to the poem within a few seconds.
“The candles are still lit.”
He opened his eyes and glanced at the dresser. Sure enough, they were.
“I hate to trouble you about this, but I have a hard time sleeping with the candles lit. Do you mind blowing them out?” she asked.
He glanced over at her and saw that she was propped up on her side and facing him. His gaze went to the outline of her breasts. She was right. They should sleep in the dark.
He jumped out of the bed and hurried to the candelabra.
“What’s that?” she asked.
Thinking there was something on the floor, he scanned the area. “What’s what?”
“That thing under your nightshirt? It’s sticking out.”
Startled, he turned his back to her and blew out the candles. “Nothing. Now, go to sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow.”
Though she couldn’t see him anymore, he ran back to his side of the bed and hopped in. He pulled the covers up to his chin, glad she couldn’t see how red his face was. He hadn’t thought she’d been watching him. It was so embarrassing that she’d seen him fully erect like that. Hopefully, she would go to sleep and forget all about it.
“Are you all right?” she asked, touching his arm.
Alarmed, he bolted straight up into a sitting position. “I’m fine.” He shifted away from her and cleared his throat. “I’m tired, that’s all. The hour’s late. We need to sleep.”
“So that thing sticks out when you’re tired?”
Oh, good heavens. Was she going to keep asking about his erection? He supposed it was only proof of how innocent she was, but he’d rather she forget the whole thing.
She moved closer to him, and he was surprised to find out she was sitting up, too. Now that his eyes had time to adjust to the darkness, he could see her silhouette. She was looking at him in interest.
“You shouldn’t touch me while we’re in bed,” he finally told her.
“Why not?”
“Because…” He swallowed. “Because it only makes me want to do things I shouldn’t.”
She gasped. “What kind of things?”
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he hurried to assure her. “It’s just that… Well…” He shifted away from her. “Didn’t a lady, like your mother, tell you about what happens between a man and his wife when they’re in bed?”
“My mother died when I was five, and there was no other lady who told me this. What happens between them in bed?”
It was just his luck that she was completely naïve. “I don’t want to offend your delicate sensibilities, but when a gentleman’s in bed with a lady, he gets certain…” How should he word it? “Desires. He wants to do things that would never be appropriate in public.”
“You mean like hugging?”
Recalling how he’d mentioned that it was inappropriate for the footman to hug him in public, he decided that was a good way to explain it. “Yes. Like hugging. Or kissing. Those kinds of things encourage a gentleman’s mind to drift in areas it shouldn’t. I’m not strong enough to stop things if you get too close. You’re better off going to the other side of the bed.”
She didn’t answer right away, but when she did, she asked, “Do you want to hug and kiss me?”
He was definitely thankful it was too dark for her to see his face. He had to have the deepest shade of red a human’s face could get.
“Can those things be pleasant?” she continued, not aware of how uncomfortable she was making him. Her tone was only curious, much like a child who wanted to learn something.
“Yes, they’re very pleasant, but they must be done at the right time.”
“Is it wrong for a husband to hug and kiss his wife?”
“No, of course not. It’s just that both the husband and wife should want them.”
“I’d like for you to hug and kiss me. You’re a kind person, and I feel safe with you. I want to know if I’ll enjoy hugging and kissing with you.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re asking. If I start doing those things, I won’t want to stop. I’ll want to keep going, and one thing will lead to another and then another until I’ll want to do everything. It’s best that we don’t start.”
“I don’t mind if we keep going. I like you. I’m comfortable with you. I’ll let you do whatever you want.”
The male part of him urged him to do what she wanted, and as much as he hated it, its will was much stronger than the practical side of his mind. He leaned toward her and brought his lips to hers, gently testing how much she really wanted to do this. She responded to him, hesitant at first as if trying to decide if she liked this or not, and then she wiggled closer to him and pressed her lips more firmly against his.
Any restraints he’d managed to hold onto quickly faded away, and he brought her into his arms. He’d kissed a few ladies in the past, but it’d never gotten further than that. He’d always been mindful of how easy it’d be to get one in the family way, and that was something he hadn’t been willing to risk. So he’d stayed out of any area too private. The possibility of getting caught at any moment had enabled him to keep the kisses short. There was no one here, though, who would catch them. They had complete privacy. He could do whatever he wanted with her, and no one would be the wiser. And she had given him permission. Also, as his wife, it was perfectly fine if this act resulted in a child.
With a groan, he left a trail of kisses from her mouth to her neck. She sighed in contentment, put her arms around his neck, and tilted her neck so he could continue kissing her.
“This is nice,” she whispered.
It was more than nice. It was arousing him to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything but her and this moment they had together. He was finally going to make love to a lady, and better yet, he was going to make love to his wife.
He removed her arms from his neck, and she asked, “Are we going to stop?”
“No,” he said, aware his voice had taken on a husky tone. “I’m just removing our clothes.”
“Oh, all right.” To his surprise, she shifted away from him, pulled her nightshirt over her head, and tossed it aside. “Is that better?”
In the dim light, he could make out her round perky breasts. The covers were at her hips, hiding the rest of her from view, but he didn’t mind that. It only teased him into wanting to see more. He cleared his throat. “Yes, it’s much better.”
Then he threw his own nightshirt off and hurried to resume their kissing. He urged her to settle onto her back and took a couple of minutes to enjoy simply holding her while kissing her. This would be their first time together, and he didn’t want to rush it. He wanted to take his time to savor every kiss and caress, and, likewise, he wanted her to savor it as well. It was important that her first time be just as significant to her as it was going to be for him.
Once he had thoroughly explored her mouth, he turned his attention to the rest of her body. He traced the soft curve of her breasts and ran his thumb along her nipples which hardened in response. She let out a slight gasp and drew him closer, assuring him
that she liked what he was doing. So he continued with his caresses until his baser instincts kicked in, and he had to go further.
He let his hand slide down her stomach, and then he lowered the covers in order to expose the rest of her naked body. She helped him by kicking the covers aside with her good leg. He could make out the patch of curls between her legs, but his attention went to the bandages and splint. He would have to be careful not to aggravate her injured leg or ankle. The last thing he needed was for this evening to delay her healing.
She brought her hand up to the side of his face and turned it toward her so that she could kiss him. His tongue brushed hers as he let his hand settle between her legs. He traced the soft curls before venturing beneath the folds of her flesh. His finger slid into her with no resistance. He moaned. Oh, she was wonderful. Her flesh was wet and warm, and it closed in around his finger. He inserted another finger and was rewarded as her core clenched around him.
Ophelia ended their kiss and whispered, “I like this. Don’t stop.”
He thought about telling her he couldn’t possibly stop at this point, but she moved her hips, allowing him to go deeper into her. He didn’t know who was more aroused by all of this, but he supposed it didn’t matter. As long as they were both enjoying it, that’s what mattered.
He proceeded to follow her lead. He stroked her core in time with the moving of her hips. She tightened her hold on him, and before long, she let out the most beautiful cry he’d ever heard come from a lady’s lips. She grew still, and her flesh clenched and unclenched around him until her entire body relaxed.
“That was very pleasant,” she said, out of breath.
He grinned. “Good because it’s supposed to be.”
“Is there more?”
“Yes. You know that thing you saw under my nightshirt?”
“Yes, I remember. It was sticking out.”
He took her hand and brought it to his erection. “It’s the part of me that’s supposed to go inside you.” He dipped his fingers into her. “Right here.”
She spread her legs for him. “You have my permission to put it in me.”
If he hadn’t been so aroused, he might have found her matter-of-fact tone amusing. But as it was, he was too eager to be inside her to chuckle. He did manage enough good sense, however, to avoid touching her bandaged leg and the wounded ankle as he got on top of her. She brought her legs up to his waist and wiggled up against his erection. He shifted until his tip was at her entrance, and then, he thrust into her. He felt a little resistance from her core, so he forced himself to remain still.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, doing his best to concentrate on her response.
“It was a sting, but I’m fine.” She moved her hips. “You can keep going.”
That was all the permission he needed. With a grateful groan, he moved inside her. This was even better than he’d expected. He couldn’t recall a time in his life where he felt even better than right now. And he wanted this sensation to continue for as long as possible. He’d keep doing this the entire night if he could. But it seemed he was hurling along too fast to the end, and before he could slow things down, he climaxed. He gave one last thrust and gave into the bliss of releasing his seed inside her body. This was so much better than having to deal with his needs himself.
When the waves of pleasure subsided, his head cleared and he could, once again, think of something other than what the male part of him was pestering him to do.
“Thank you for letting me do this,” he whispered. “I don’t know if I would have been able to sleep tonight if you hadn’t.”
“You mean, that thing could have kept you awake?”
Realizing she was talking about his penis, he chuckled. “Believe it or not, yes, it can keep me awake. It can be painful if I don’t do what it wants.” He lowered his head to hers and kissed her. “It doesn’t actually have a personality or anything. It’s just a part of me, but it’s a persistent part.” He got off of her and settled next to her.
“But it felt good when you were in me, didn’t it?” she asked.
He drew her into his arms. “Yes. Very good.”
“It was good for me, too. I have a feeling that’s because you’re the one I was with.”
“It was good for me because I was with you, too.” He kissed her again. “I’m glad you told me I could kiss you.”
She snuggled up into his arms. “You may kiss me whenever you want.”
“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” he teased.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
With a chuckle, he closed his eyes and settled his head on top of hers. Soon, he drifted off to sleep, and he couldn’t think of a time he’d had better dreams.
Chapter Ten
Ophelia peered down the window of her bedchamber. She had to do this. She had to get away from this place. She couldn’t marry Lord Wolfe. No matter what she had to do, she must make sure she never ended up with him. The man might have a pleasant appearance, but deep down, he was a monster.
She pushed back her red cloak from her leg so she could put her foot on the trellis by her window. She counted to three and then jumped from the window. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she recalled this method of escape working before. She’d been sure it would work this time, too. Except, it didn’t. She was unable to secure her hold on the trellis. She reached out for something—anything—to stop her from falling, but it was no use. She fell backward. For a long moment, her body was suspended in midair, and she felt as if she was floating.
In the window above her, Lord Wolfe was glaring down at her. “How could you do this to me? I gave you everything you ever wanted, and you betrayed me.”
And then she was falling. She screamed, but the sound came out as an echo. Then, all at once, she stopped falling. She was in someone’s arms. She looked up at the person, expecting it to be Julian, but Lord Wolfe was holding her. She screamed again and tried to get out of his arms, but he pressed his lips over hers, his tongue demanding as he forced his way into her mouth. She gagged and struggled to turn her face from him. When she finally succeeded, she heard a growl. She turned her face back to him and saw that he had the head of a wolf.
Ophelia’s eyes flew open. Daylight. It wasn’t night. It was daylight. She touched the mattress beneath her. She was in bed. She noticed someone beside her and jerked. When she realized it was Julian, she relaxed.
A dream. She’d just been having a dream. A terrible, horrible dream.
It was just a nightmare. Lord Wolfe didn’t catch you. You’re safe. You’re with Julian.
She closed her eyes, but the remnants of the dream were still there. All at once, she was back in Lord Wolfe’s embrace. With a shiver, she opened her eyes again and sat up.
She couldn’t recall a time she’d had a more terrifying dream. It’d been so real.
She shivered and glanced back at Julian, who was sound asleep. He was on his stomach, and his hair was unruly. She recalled the first morning she’d seen him wake up. His hair had been sticking up in all sorts of directions. It’d struck her as cute, just as it did now.
She smiled, and at once, the lingering effects of Lord Wolfe’s kiss left. She didn’t have to worry about him anymore. She had Julian. She was his wife. She was unable to marry Lord Wolfe now.
Relieved, she settled back on the bed and drew closer to Julian. Julian wasn’t anything like Lord Wolfe. Julian was tender and sweet. His kisses hadn’t felt wrong. When he kissed her, she felt good about it. But with Lord Wolfe, it’d felt wrong.
She watched Julian as he slept. He had a faint smile on his lips. What was he dreaming about? Something good, she bet. Perhaps all of his dreams were good. He had seemed to sleep well at the cottage, too.
She rested her hand on Julian’s cheek. It wasn’t as smooth as it’d been last night. It was rough from the slight growth of hair on his jaw. Her gaze went back to his hair, and, on impulse, she tried to smooth a part of it down. That, however, was a pointless endeavor s
ince it sprang back up. She chuckled.
Julian opened his eyes at her. “You find my hair amusing?”
She stared at him in surprise. “How long have you been awake?”
“Only a few minutes. My slumber was disturbed by the soft touch of an angel.” He turned onto his side then grinned at her. “I had assumed she was admiring my face, but it wasn’t so. It turned out she was laughing at my hair.”
“Well, you have to admit it’s awfully cute before you comb it in the morning.”
“As long as you think it’s awfully cute, I suppose it’s all right. I wouldn’t appreciate anyone else laughing, though.”
“You have a sweet face,” she said.
He grimaced. “I have a sweet face? What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means what I said.”
“Well, it doesn’t sound like a compliment. Here you are,” he put his arm around her waist and drew her closer to him, “a beautiful lady, and you’re stuck with a gentleman who has a sweet face.”
“I meant it as a compliment. I like the way you look.”
“Maybe, but I’m not handsome like some gentlemen. When people see us together, they’ll probably wonder why you chose me.”
“If they ask you, then you can tell them I like how sweet you are.”
“I have a sweet face, and I’m sweet. If I get any sweeter, I might end up being a dessert.”
“Oh, stop.” She laughed and hugged him. “I like you. Isn’t that all that matters?”
With a chuckle, he said, “Yes, it is. And I like you, too.”
“There. That’s all we need.” And it offered her even more security. She had managed to carve out a place in his heart. He was no longer with her only because she had begged him to take her as his wife. He wanted to be with her. “Will you give me another one of your kisses?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
He brought his lips to hers, and she was soon caught up in the bliss of being with him. Lord Wolfe, at least for now, was a distant memory.
The Wedding Pact (Marriage by Fairytale Book 3) Page 10