One large drop splattered above her thigh and James angled the candle down and centred it a few inches in. Her eyes stared at him in shock. He reached down and pressed her pussy lips together to protect the most delicate inner skin.
“Let’s see if you trust me.” He let a single drop fall, and she made no move to flee. Her body tensed and a soft yelp came from her mouth.
“Good!” He smiled at her. “Another?”
“Please.” Her voice shook, but her hips lifted, pressing for more.
James let several large drops coat her outer pussy. The curls quickly grew matted with wax. His wife only groaned for more.
“Please!” She writhed in his bed.
Blowing out the candle, he knew she needed a little more of a connection. “Tonight will be long. Patience.” He pressed the hot tip of the candle to her hip.
Mariah gasped. “James!” Her hands flew down to hold his arm so he didn’t remove the candle. James smiled to himself as he released her. He’d only begun to tease her tonight.
Mariah trembled as the wax cooled and hardened on her skin. Things stilled for a moment as she looked up at her husband. He seemed to be testing her physical endurance, pain, and overall tolerance. It stimulated her and made their sex much more enjoyable, yet he held back somehow. She saw it in his eyes. He denied both of them something.
Reaching out a wax spotted arm, she closed her hand around James’ thick cock. She’d dreamt of him in her days of exile, that he would take her and fully complete the act.
“You haven’t had enough?” he asked.
She shook her head. “We’ve only begun. Take me.”
His eyes darkened as his rough hand grabbed her breast and pulled on the lace until it ripped. James nipped and sucked the exposed flesh. Mariah pressed up for more, running her fingers through his hair as he licked her nipple until she moaned. Her pussy craved more than wax. She kept her legs spread to draw it out. She needed him to bring her to release. Her own fingers could do it, but the pleasure never felt as strong as when he commanded her body.
When she tried to push his head lower onto her body, he shook her off and pushed his hand to her sex. Three fingers filled her so swiftly she gasped, digging her nails into his scalp. “Please use your cock.”
He bit her nipple until she groaned in defeat. He’d have her any way he wanted, but it felt so good she couldn’t protest.
Rocking her hips to meet his fingers, she nearly lost control when his thumb rubbed in her folds and teased her clit.
“I won’t last.” Maybe she released too fast because of her inexperience? Was timing keeping him from proper marital relations?
“Come for me, don’t wait. Not now.” He spread his fingers inside her, and Mariah gave into the pulsing. When he pressed on her clit, she flew into the eye of a pleasure storm. Her world swirled and rocked. Clinging to him, she wanted to feel him go wild in her arms.
She screamed his name and panted like an animal. “More, please! I want you inside of me,” she begged.
Shifting his weight, James lined up on top of her, and Mariah hoped he’d found whatever he needed.
“You want me?” He rubbed his cock between her legs.
“All of you.”
“You want my children?” he asked.
“Yes. How can I prove it?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, as though she could hold him. Something deep in him doubted—her, himself, their marriage? He shared so little, yet she felt the wound in him. “Please, James.”
He pressed his forehead to hers and slowly eased his cock inside her. With each thrust, his pace increased. Mariah floated in the feel of him consuming her. The added sting of wax in her hair pulled as James moved in her. He held her so tight she felt truly a part of him. He was her other half, whatever they had to face.
Her pussy tightened around him each time he entered, and the increasing force seemed to make him thrust harder. “Yes, more. I need you.”
Grinding their bodies together, he pressed her deeper into the mattress. He filled her like no finger could and aroused the way no toy did. The release took hold, and she bucked up against him, screaming his name and scratching at his back like a cat.
“Damn!” he cursed.
Mariah held on as James shook and thrust harder. When he stopped, buried deep in her, she felt the change in him. He shouted her name and fell silent.
Unable to resist, she kissed him.
When he tried to pull away, she groaned. “No, stay. This feels so right.”
“I’m crushing you. I should’ve had better control. It was a mistake.” He rolled away, lying next to her.
The tears formed, but she brushed them away. Why? Why was this man so confusing? In all household matters, he respected her. He listened when she talked and had even taken a few of her ideas about the home and stables. Yet not in bed. She enjoyed the submissive intercourse but why?
“Why the limitations and distance?” she asked.
“What?” He climbed out of bed. “I gave you a preview before our engagement. You married me anyway. I control our intercourse. You enjoy it. Don’t play the victim.”
“I don’t mean that. I do enjoy it. But why do you refuse to do what might bring a child? One time you give in then push me away. It makes no sense, not wanting an heir.”
“In time.”
“You don’t want my body to change?” She refused to let the topic drop.
“That’s not the issue.”
“You fear Charles will harm an heir?” Her voice cracked with the same fear.
“It’s not that. I’ve dealt with Charles, but he has sisters, and there are no guarantees. An heir in time. You’re young.” He wrapped a robe around him and sat in the large chair. “Let’s enjoy this time.”
“But you don’t. You just put more distance every time I enjoy it.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Once I heard my brothers talking about some French things they could use to prevent children. If all you want is to delay, why not get some of those? Use them, and we can still enjoy it fully. It’s so glorious to feel you.”
“Your brothers should’ve been more discreet. You are far too informed for your own good.”
“My intelligence is a problem now? My brothers were older. They should’ve used those things before they ruined a few of my governesses. I was the unexpected child, and often, they thought I was not paying attention. I never quite fit in. My mother…” Mariah paused.
Could that be it? Her mother had died in childbirth. Did James fear she’d die and take his heir with her? Was all this wax and spanking to build up her strength rather than give her pleasure?
“What’s the matter? Put on your robe.” James nodded to her garment on the floor.
She shook her head. Everyone knew about her mother. He’d have known before they married. Before the stables. Maybe he didn’t enjoy it as she did. Maybe he only wanted to condition her to produce several heirs. He had little family left. Maybe he wanted an army of sons and her mother had been done in at four healthy males and one scrawny girl who had barely survived.
“Are you ill?”
Sadness, shame and humiliation filled her. “I’m well. I’m sorry I disappointed you. I will not bother you again.” Her words were no longer filled with playful begging or the lustful needs of release as before. Nor did she explode in a fit of temper or hysteria. She remained poised and ladylike as she climbed out of his bed and wrapped herself up, covering the torn lace, wax and teeth marks he’d left her with.
Mariah headed for the door and paused. Turning to him, she said, “I assure you I am strong and healthy enough to give you an heir or four. Maybe it was my mother’s limit, but if I die with number five, you can always marry again. I’m not afraid of childbirth. No amount of wax or flogging will change providence.”
She swung the door open with anger and closed it hard behind her. Locking the door, she propped the chair there just in case. Pulling off the robe and lace, she shoved the la
ce garment in the very back of her wardrobe.
With her delicate sewing shears, she trimmed the wax from between her legs. She’d never conceived of using her hand mirror thus, but James had marked her and it no longer felt intimate or endearing. It felt as if she’d been branded like a sheep whose wool did not measure up.
He could keep his children and rough intercourse. She’d survive like most other wives, taking pride in running her home and doing charitable work. It filled her days already. She’d have to grow accustomed to the glass toys to fill her lonely nights.
Washing her face, Mariah knew she’d never sleep—especially not with James pacing in the next room. She listened to him walk for a moment. Mariah needed a release, not a sexual one but to burn off the excess frustration. She only knew of one ladylike way.
After digging out an old, dark-blue dress, she pulled it on, ignoring a chemise. She pulled on her riding boots and headed out through the main doors quietly.
She snuck to the stables and let the familiar surroundings soothe her. Inhaling the fresh night air, she realised that the walk alone had done her good. James could hold back all he liked. Lord of the Manor, Master of the House, Earl of Montford but she’d confessed her heart, her fears and her needs to him. If he regretted their marriage, he could blame her.
Finding her saddle, she paused and listened—sure she’d heard something in the distance. Locating her new mare, a gift from James, she ignored her heart pounding. She still loved him, she knew it. Her family were romantics. Her father had never remarried because of his love for her mother. He’d spoiled Mariah because she looked like her mother. Even never having met her mother, she saw the love that had created her every day of her childhood in her father’s smile. She wanted that in her marriage, believed she’d found it with James.
She’d been a fool, and now, she’d suffered the consequences. Mariah would find a way to deal with her new life and be content. Her stomach fluttered, and she desperately hoped she wasn’t with child. Now, she simply could not handle that as well.
Chapter Eight
James strode to the stables after her. No woman had ever spoken to him like that. There was no temper tantrum or whining, no manipulation or coaxing from her, only honest truth.
She was dead wrong. He had to show her how wrong before it ate him alive.
However, she believed herself correct, and to her credit, the logic was sound. He’d never connected his reluctance to get her with child to her mother’s death. James knew the real reason. His own family demons made hers look like a garden party.
The view of her saddling her own mare like a servant in an old dress shamed and infuriated him.
“You will not run home to your uncle or father.” He pulled the saddle off the horse and tossed it aside. Mariah had connections and appreciated her good fortune. But James refused to let her slip from his life because of his family’s failings.
Mariah glared at him as though he were a simpleton. “I’m not running away. I need a ride. I’m too upset to sleep.” She reached for the saddle, but he blocked her.
“Truthfully?” he asked.
She looked him in the eye. “I don’t lie, sir. I made my choice, and I’ll live with it. Make an heir at your leisure. I’ll run the house, do charity work and ride my horse. I’ll not bother you any further.”
“You are wilful and stubborn.” He studied her beautiful features.
“Both. Very. My father indulged me. My brothers taught me bad things without knowing it. However, I’ll not disgrace you. You have my word on that account. Are we agreed?” She extended her hand.
“No, not at all.” He folded his arms. “I don’t give a damn about your mother.” His heart tore at the idea of losing Mariah. “That will not be you. I won’t have it.”
She smiled softly. “Some things are beyond even your control.”
“I do not wish for countless heirs. One heir and one daughter will suit me fine.” He took a step closer. “You are nothing like my mother.”
Mariah frowned. “Are you insulting me?”
“No. My mother had one child, and it weakened her. She rarely left the house. My father died when I was six. My grandfather decided then I should not live with my mother or him so he sent me to a boarding school to toughen me up so I would not be weak like my father, his only son. Keeping me alive was the only concern.”
“And he brought your mother to live with him and got her some medical attention? He sounds curt but practical. One must protect the family.” She took a step closer.
James shook his head. “He did not bring my mother. He sent her to live at Bath. She had care, paid expenses but no contact with me. My father died in a duel over my mother with Charles’ father. I found out eventually they both had pursued her before she chose and was married. My grandfather didn’t trust her. He wanted me safe and away from her.” The tension built in him. He’d never told anyone these things.
“I’m so sorry.” Mariah’s hand pressed to his neck and eased his pain.
“My grandfather was practical, but he was also cruel. He wanted to control me and keep me in good health. In truth, he never approved of my mother. Not that he would shirk his duties, but every time I asked to go and see her, he had reasons why I could not. Special lessons, trips abroad, anything to keep me occupied. He did not think much of women. My mother died before I came of age. I should have found a way. But I didn’t know all the family secrets about her until I was older.”
“You were a child, James. She was the adult. Men hold the power, but she could’ve left Bath to visit you once a year. Was she so bedridden she could not muster the strength to visit her own son?”
“She was weak in mind and body. Not one visit. I should’ve gone to visit her.”
“And risk your grandfather’s wrath? While you were under age? You had to protect yourself. She should’ve found a way to stay with you even if she and your grandfather didn’t get along. Assuming she didn’t fall in with Charles’ side of the family. As your father’s widow, she deserved some consideration from him.” Mariah pressed to him, her soft hands embracing him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“It’s not your fault.” Mariah kissed him.
He pulled away. “I meant about you. It’s my fault. I feared that if I died young, Charles could swoop in and pressure you. I needed to know you’d be strong. You’d be loyal. Even after the Charles business, I don’t want my son to be treated like a commodity. The heir who should be locked away for safety.”
“No one would separate me from my children for one second. I’d whip them to death with my riding crop first. I know what it’s like to not have a mother. My children will never be ignored or sent away.” Her face went stern with resolve.
There was no humour in her statement. Her earnest tone relieved him. She didn’t want children out of duty but out of her own need to be the mother she’d lost. Even if the law wasn’t on her side, stubborn will and providence were. “I believe you would. Forgive me for confusing you. I mixed fear, trust and our bedchamber play inappropriately. I should have been clear.”
“Life is rarely clear. Your mother may have been so ill she could not leave once she was at Bath. That’s quite a trip itself. If her condition had worsened, it may have been beyond her control. But I have my father and my brothers, family to stand by me even if I were that ill. They’d protect my interests and my children. I have no doubt of that. I was not raised to value an heir like a prize pony. I’ll coddle them until they leave home.”
Still, she tried to comfort him and make excuses for his mother.
He pulled her tight to him. “I don’t hate my mother. I only wish she’d have tried. You’re so strong and bold. I should never have doubted you.”
“If you truly wish to wait before we have children, I’m sure you can obtain some of those French Letters in London. We can wait for the children, but I won’t wait for you.”
He nodded. “Or we could have two children young and use tho
se items to avoid additional. I will not lose you.” He framed her face with his hands.
“And the sex was not a test or trial of my strength?”
Roaming his hands down her body, he discovered no undergarments. “You are my wife. The sex was amazing and nothing to do with our family situation. But your state of dress is indiscreet. I wanted to see your will, your strength. It was the wrong way to do it. But you responded to me. I couldn’t stop.”
She smiled. “No one looks under my dress but you. I never asked you to stop. You seemed to keep back at times. You never wanted to be inside of me. I didn’t understand.”
Chuckling, he lifted her skirt to expose her to the cool air. “I wanted to. More than you know, more than I knew. You broke me tonight.”
“You broke me before our wedding night. I was ruined for any other man. If you’d jilted me—”
James smacked her bottom. “Never. Never any other man. You’re mine. Say it.”
“You’re mine.” Her eyes glinted with mischief and love.
He slapped her bottom harder. “Do not test me, wife.”
“I’m yours. Perhaps I won’t need a ride tonight after all.” She released him and put her mare back in its stall.
“No, you’ll ride, but it will not require a horse. First, I have a gift for you.” He went into the back where the stable master kept the expensive equipment. It’d arrived yesterday, and James had been waiting for the proper moment.
Carrying the box over to her, he set it on the ground. “A small token.”
Instead of rushing to open it, she kissed him hard. “Thank you.”
“You haven’t yet seen it. You might hate it.”
“But I’ll still love you.” She knelt down and opened it. “Good heavens. It’s exquisite.”
He helped her lift the heavy saddle made of the finest leather up onto the stall so she could properly admire it. He’d ordered it personally.
“It’s perfect. So expensive.” Her hand went slowly over her new married initials engraved in the saddle. In a flurry, she turned and kissed him. Her arms curled around his neck as she deepened the kiss, her eager tongue curling to him with determination.
A Firm Hand Page 8