A wedding breakfast, beautifully arranged by Abigail, followed the service. The cake was cut and eaten, and it was finally acceptable for Alistair and Louise to take their leave. “I thought we’d never escape,” he said, once they were alone in his carriage.
She leaned into him, surrounding him with her sweet perfume. “It was kind of Abigail to arrange a celebration. To leave any sooner would have been ungrateful on our part.”
“You’re right, but every second of it still passed with sluggish tediousness.” Dipping his head, he kissed his way along her cheek until he was able to whisper in her ear, “I’ve been anxiously anticipating our wedding night.”
A tiny gasp, not of surprise but of pleasure, made him wish he could force the horses into a gallop. Instead, he put his arm around her and pulled her closer, loving the comfort of having her near and the affinity that bound them together.
“Are you nervous?” he asked, when he closed the door to the room at the inn where they’d chosen to spend their wedding night.
She shook her head. “Not really.”
“Anxious?”
Again, she shook her head. “On the contrary, I feel inexplicably calm and…ready.”
He knew what she meant for he felt the same way, though he couldn’t deny the eagerness that made his heart pump a good deal faster. For five long days he’d looked forward to this exact moment –fantasized about how it might be. Now, he moved to where she stood, untied her bonnet and tossed it across the room.
“Alistair!”
“Hmm…” He unbuttoned her pelisse and threw it onto a nearby chair, then took a step forward and drew her into his arms.
She looked up, her eyes more green than brown, and she gave him a tender smile. “I love you, you know.”
Pressing a kiss to that gorgeous mouth of hers, he whispered against her lips, “And I love you.”
Recognizing the moment when Alistair gave up control, Louise welcomed the urgent touch of his fingers tugging and pulling, unbuttoning and untying until layers of clothing began falling away. Her gown went first, then her stays and chemise, until she was left wearing only her stockings. “You look delicious,” he murmured, trailing his fingers over her sides, leaving molten heat in their wake.
Stepping back, he held her gaze, eyelids lowering while he began to untie his cravat. Involuntarily, she licked her lips as more of his skin came into view. “Lord, you tempt me to be improper,” he said, discarding the long piece of linen. Shucking his jacket, he tossed it aside and in one swift movement pulled his shirt up over his head. The garment fell to the floor and Louise’s mouth went dry.
Never in a million years would she have imagined herself so fortunate as to marry a man like him. He was the embodiment of masculine power and virility. His chest rippled with hard planes and grooves, the muscles of his arms bunching when he flexed his fingers.
“Come here,” he murmured, his dark eyes luring her to him, forcing her closer until her breasts grazed his chest. Nostrils flaring, he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her while he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. There, he laid her down gently before removing his trousers and smalls.
Louise stared. She couldn’t seem to do anything else when more of his glorious body came into view. And then he was climbing onto the bed, his hands sliding up her leg and over her thigh. She sighed as he kissed her again.
“Yes.”
The pleasure he wrought was divine – touching, tempting, teasing – heightening her pleasure in ways she’d never believed possible. And when he finally nestled between her thighs and she dug her fingertips into his back, he blew out a tortured breath of his own while joining his body with hers.
Another, “Yes,” was wrought from his throat, and when he started to move, he set a pace that carried her higher – up to a place where every sensation was sharp and dazzling. Then suddenly, on a rush of euphoria, everything seemed to collide in waves of pure pleasure.
“Amazing,” was the only word Louise could think to describe what had happened between them, when she lay cocooned in Alistair’s arms a short while later.
“And to think we get to do this every day for the rest of our lives,” he murmured. His hand swept along the curve of her back.
“Every day?”
“Without doubt.” Kissing the nape of her neck, he ran his fingers over her side and down across her belly.
“I’ll hold you to it.” Turning in his arms, she welcomed his kiss with the keen awareness that surrendering was so much sweeter than holding on to control, and that loving this man as he loved her, was the greatest reward in the world.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank the Killion Group for their incredible help with the cover art and edits. And to my wonderful beta-readers, Carol Bisig and Barbara Rogers, thank you for your insight and advice. You made this story shine!
About the Author
Born in Denmark, Sophie has spent her youth traveling with her parents to wonderful places around the world. She's lived in five different countries, on three different continents, has studied design in Paris and New York and has a bachelor's degree from Parson's School of design. But most impressive of all - she's been married to the same man three times, in three different countries and in three different dresses.While living in Africa, Sophie turned to her lifelong passion - writing.When she's not busy, dreaming up her next romance novel, Sophie enjoys spending time with her family, swimming, cooking, gardening, watching romantic comedies and, of course, reading. She currently lives on the East Coast.
You can contact her through her website at www.sophiebarnes.com
Or stay in touch with her via the following social media links:
Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
Instagram
and Goodreads
Please consider leaving a review for this book.
Every review is greatly appreciated!
Other Books In This Series
Find out what happens to Eve in The Earl Who Loved Her.
Look out for Josephine’s story in The Duke Who Came To Town.
The Governess Who Captured His Heart (The Honorable Scoundrels Book 1) Page 8