by Rose Gordon
“Sorry. I forgot to shut the drapes when we left earlier and it got hot in here.” He stripped to his shirtsleeves and went to stand behind her while she arranged her things on the vanity. “I’m glad you agreed to stay,” he murmured against her neck while he nuzzled it.
She mumbled an incoherent reply and her brush slipped from her fingers, making a loud noise when it hit the vanity. He moved his fingers to the top of her gown and pulled the edge down, dropping tender kisses across her shoulders and the top of her back as he went. He peeled the cap off her left shoulder and nipped the top with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue, making her gasp.
Her head lulled to the side, allowing him better access to her neck. He moved his moist lips from her shoulder to her neck, leaving a warm trail to mark his path. She sighed as he bent his head and kissed his way around to the front of her neck then licked the hollow by her clavicle.
He took his hands from her gown and brought them to her hair where he used his fingertips to gently massage her scalp. “May I play your lady’s maid tonight?”
She groaned. “I don’t have one,” she said mindlessly.
“I know,” he whispered into her neck. “Let me help you tonight.” Without waiting for her to form a coherent response, his fingers started finding the pins in her hair and pulling them out. She had so much hair to free; but a man with a mission never takes long to conquer his task, and in a matter of minutes, he was running his fingers through her blonde ringlets. “It’s so long,” he said inanely, before burying his face into its curly mass and kissing her on the sensitive spot behind her ear.
Madison’s body fell limp against his when he pushed her hair away and pressed open mouthed kisses along her shoulder. His hands found the buttons on the back of her dress and slipped them free. Turning her around to face him, he grabbed the top of her gown and held it in place. Running his thumb over the skin next to the one sleeve that was still on her shoulder, he lowered his mouth to hers.
She responded immediately by brushing her lips against his and opening her mouth when he parted his lips. Deepening their kiss, he hooked his thumb inside her gown and dragged the fabric to the edge of her shoulder. Taking his lips from hers, he kissed the corner of her mouth before kissing a line to her jaw, then down her neck and over to her shoulder. Releasing the fabric with his fingers, the gown dropped to the floor and he took hold of her bare upper arms. “Put your arms around me,” he murmured as he kissed her chest right above the thin line of lace on her chemise.
She obeyed his command and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her delicate fingers sank into his thick hair and twisted his golden strands. Wordlessly, he moved his hands to her waist and in one quick motion, he picked her up and hauled her to the bed.
Remembering his promise to her, he rolled off to the side and murmured what he hoped sounded like a sincere apology. Cradling the far side of her face in his hand, he placed gentle kisses on the top of her chest. His face moved to settle in the valley of her breasts and he brought his hand to pull the top of her chemise down to expose more of her skin. His mouth explored her sternum and his hand drifted over to gently cup her breast.
She groaned and arched into his hand, pressing her nipple against his palm. He felt it harden through her chemise. He brought his other hand to her thigh and softly kneaded her pliant flesh while his mouth found her free breast and started kissing its soft slope.
“Ben,” she gasped when his mouth found the crest of her breast and closed around it.
“Madison,” he panted, laving her nipple with his tongue. His hand abandoned her breast and skated down her abdomen to her waist, then to her other thigh. Dropping lower, his mouth left her breast and kissed the undersides of her breasts, along the top of her ribs. His hands moved to her knees and he ran a lone finger behind each knee, drawing a shiver from her.
Her body was limp with her eyes only half open. Her head rested with one cheek on the pillow and her hair covering the other. She brought one hand up to rest in Benjamin’s hair as he kissed his way down her abdomen and his hands spread her thighs. He came up on his knees between her legs and ran his hands down the gentle curve of calves.
Benjamin’s slow moving hands came back to her knees then moved upwards past her waist, bringing the hem of her chemise with them. “Madison,” he rasped as his lips moved over her hipbone.
“Yes,” she sighed, arching off the bed as his mouth traveled lower. The fingers she’d had in his hair tightened their grip while her other hand twisted in the sheets. “Ben,” she moaned.
One of his hands came up to rest in the sweet dip between her thigh and hip and the other slid underneath her to cup her bottom. Bringing his mouth to her thigh, he moved his fingers to twist in her nest of curls before slipping them lower. Deftly, he massaged her sensitive flesh as she arched and bucked off the bed at his touches. He heard her groan his name again and murmured hers in reply as he slipped his finger into her warm, ready body.
Her fingers tightened in his hair as he increased his pace. Her breathing sounded shallow and her skin grew warm. Her hips moved to meet his rhythm as his palm rubbed her aching flesh and he slipped another finger inside.
Benjamin’s eyes swept his wife’s body the best they could. This was the most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld. Her face was relaxed with pleasure; her skin was pink and hot with desire. Subtle sighs escaped her lips, becoming louder and more frequent. And then, her face flushed and her body convulsed around him in completion.
After he felt the last waves of her pleasure, he withdrew his hand and leaned forward to drop a kiss on her flushed forehead. He pulled the bottom of her chemise back down and lay down next to her, pulling her body to rest with her back flush against his chest.
A minute later, he heard her softly say, “No lady’s maid has ever done that to me before.”
“I should hope not,” he replied dryly, reaching forward to push a lock of her damp hair from her cheek.
She snuggled closer to him, and from a little mirror across the room on the vanity, he could see her pink lips curve into a sleepy smile. “Thank you,” she whispered quietly, her face turning a fetching shade of pale pink.
“For what?” he murmured, leaning down to scatter kisses across her delicate shoulders.
“For, you know,” she said, her skin turning warmer. “I’ve never felt that way before. Thank you.”
He stopped kissing her and drew back. “You haven’t?”
“No,” she said, turning her head just enough so she could see partially see him with one eye. “How would I have? Unlike your sex, mine doesn’t typically go around touching their own private parts.”
A new wave of shame washed over him, causing the blood to rush to his head, his stomach to clench and his heart to ache. He swallowed hard, then again. “Oh, Madison, I’m so sorry,” he whispered raggedly before wrapping her in his arms and holding her tightly to his pounding chest.
***
Madison tried to twist her head around to better see the nodcock who was holding her. He’d just given her the most intense pleasure of her life and he was apologizing? What was wrong with the man? And why on earth did he look more unsettled now than he did the night of their engagement when he’d been sucker punched in the breadbasket? “What are you upset about?” she demanded a bit irritably. He was most certainly ruining the moment with his reaction.
“It all makes sense now,” he said softly, clearly ignoring her questions.
“What makes sense?” she asked a bit louder.
He looked down at her and gave her another squeeze. “I’m so sorry about our wedding night.” His voice sounded raw and ragged.
“Our wedding night?” she repeated. She thought that would be a subject they’d both gladly never discuss again.
He nodded. “Yes. I thought… I thought…” he broke off and cleared his throat. “I thought you did that because you didn’t want to go to bed with me. But it wasn’t, was it? You just didn’t know any better.”
<
br /> Madison’s eyes went wide. “You knew?” she croaked.
He nodded. “Yes, I knew you weren’t a virgin.”
Heat flooded her face, shame and embarrassment warring for the position of its primary cause. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “If I’d known you before we married like I know you now, I would have told you.” She would have, too. They’d become so close in the last few days she would have wanted to be honest with him. She would have known she could trust him to guard her secret. Even if he didn’t want to marry her due to her lack of innocence, she would have told him. But apparently, it hadn’t mattered as much to him as she thought and her heart squeezed. He’d known and still wanted to marry her for some reason. How had he known, she wondered. She had her answer a split-second later: Andrew. Brooke must have told Andrew, and Andrew must have told Benjamin when they’d talked of betrothal contracts.
“No, Madison,” he said fiercely, bringing her to the present. “I’m the one who ought to be sorry, Madison. What I said was bad enough, but to know you hadn’t done it deliberately to hurt me, makes it worse.” His fingers lazily made shapes and other mindless touches on her shoulder.
“Are you mad?” she asked tentatively, chastising herself for asking such a stupid question when she could look at his face and clearly see he was.
“Not at you,” he said, giving her a tight, reassuring squeeze. “I’m mad at myself for what I said. And I’m mad at that selfish ass for taking all the pleasure.”
She laughed. “Taking all the pleasure?” she repeated dubiously. From what she could remember there wasn’t any other way about it. She’d never found an ounce of pleasure in the activity during any of the times she’d shared Robbie’s bed. Women just didn’t. So, why did he seem so upset about it?
“Yes,” he said tightly. “Women feel pleasure, too.”
She looked at him like he was insane. “I assure you, they do not.”
“I assure you, they can,” he countered. “Did it hurt?”
Her eyes widened. Did she really have to answer that? “Yes,” she said quietly.
“I mean after the first time?” he asked, swallowing hard. Surely this could not be an easy topic for him to want to know about.
Of course it had hurt after the first time. It hurt every time. Wasn’t it supposed to? Isn’t that why women despised the activity? Except for her sisters, that is. For some reason she couldn’t understand for the life of her they both seemed to like the activity rather well. She felt him give her shoulder a squeeze and realized he was still waiting for her answer. “Yes,” she said so quietly that she was only aware he’d heard her because his arms tightened their hold around her.
“It’s not supposed to,” he said softly. “If it does, it’s because the man’s a selfish ass. Some women can even enjoy it the first time, too. But only if she has a considerate partner.”
She shrugged. “It’s a little late now, isn’t it?” she said, hoping he’d let the conversation go.
“Yes,” he conceded. “It’s too late for your first time, and I’m sorry it was so bad. But I can promise you that you’ll find nothing but pleasure in my bed.”
“All right,” she said doubtfully. She’d shared Robbie’s bed enough to know that wasn’t going to happen, but there was no need to tell him that. She’d just lie there quietly while he went about his business, just like before.
“Madison, that’s a promise and I don’t make promises lightly. You’ll enjoy sharing my bed; I’ll not take my pleasure until you get yours. I promise it.” His words were quiet yet firm. Definite.
She smiled at him and buried her head in his chest. “Are you going to sleep in all your clothes?” she asked, turning her head to look down at his booted feet.
“I suppose I can take some off,” he mumbled as she rolled away to let him have room to get up. He sat on the edge and quickly kicked off his boots then peeled off his stockings. Then he undid the top few buttons on his shirt before he reached up over his head and yanked it off.
“What about your trousers?” she asked when he went to lie down.
“Better leave those on,” he said with a grin.
She looked at him for a minute then laughed. “No too-tight drawers on under them?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head ruefully. “I left those off this morning. I don’t like to wear them if I don’t have to. It seems as if my waistline has changed drastically changed since the last time I wore them on a regular basis.”
“Too many waffles?” she teased, patting his rock hard stomach.
He chuckled and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “No. Pugilism actually. It’s a great way to burn pent up energy.”
She moved her head to rest it on his chest. “You haven’t a lot of chest hair,” she said, running her fingers over the small mat that ran down the middle of his chest.
“Do you have a thing for chest hair,” he teased, rubbing his knuckles over cheek.
She shrugged sleepily. “Not really. Actually, I’m glad you don’t. I don’t think I’d like it if you had a bearskin rug on your chest like Andrew.”
He stiffened.
“Oh, relax,” she said, skimming her fingers over his abs, making them tremor in response. “I saw him in his dressing robe once, remember?”
“Right,” he clipped. “But I better be the only man from now on you see in his dressing robe. Clear?”
“Don’t worry, you will be,” she said lightly. “You’re the only one I’ve ever actually wanted to see in his dressing robe.” She pressed a soft kiss right above his heart and laid her head back on his chest, falling asleep to the steady beating of his heart.
***
Benjamin watched his wife sleep for more than an hour before rolling her to the side and climbing out of bed to go put out the candles. He knew they’d burn out eventually, but after the fire that had happened at his house in Yorkshire several years ago, he’d made it a habit to make sure every candle was snuffed before falling asleep. He’d even gone so far as not to allow a fire to burn in his house without a screen.
Climbing out of bed, he walked to common room and made sure nothing was still burning in there. Then he went back into the bedroom and walked to the vanity where a five candle candelabra was lit. Before blowing out the candle sticks, his eyes looked down at the objects on the table. Madison had placed her brush and hand mirror next to his comb and shaving razor and strop. He liked the way their things looked together on a shared vanity. In a few days, hopefully no more, he’d take her to Glenbrook, the seat of his dukedom, and get to see this tableau every day. He had no intention of having separate rooms, especially not now that they’d become so close.
His fingers touched the pointy bristles of her brush and he wondered if she’d let him brush her hair for her in the morning. Reflecting back on the evening, perhaps he should have taken it slower by brushing her hair and slowly easing her into bed. But it really didn’t matter; she didn’t seem to mind his rush.
She let out a little moan in her sleep and he turned his face to look at her. She was beautiful, and best yet, she was all his. What was he still doing staring at the vanity table when she was on his bed waiting to be held? Picking up the candelabra so he could blow out the candles, he accidentally knocked her reticule on the floor, spilling the contents. He grunted and leaned to pick up her things. He chuckled as he gathered the little pile of odds and ends and put them back inside. She was just like him. She carried quite an array of different things she just might need during the day. A small pair of scissors, sewing needles and three different miniature spools of thread, mints, loose coins, a couple keys, and several hair pins seemed the most useful things. There were many other things, including bejeweled hair combs and a quill (but no inkpot in sight), that seemed a little less necessary. He smiled at her oddity, it was just like his. It was just one more thing they had in common.
A piece of vellum caught his eye and he reached out to grab it to stuff it in the bag. Picking the paper up the corner, the
note unfolded and the handwriting caught his attention. Why does she carry a note from Robbie in her reticule, he wondered as his jaw clenched. Knowing it was her own private business, he thought about doing the right thing and shoving it in there without reading it. But he’d never been one to be confused for a gentleman and felt only a sliver of guilt as he read the missive.
His sliver of guilt soon vanished and then panic that had nothing to do with him being termed a murderer, formed in his chest.
Chapter 16
Madison awoke with the strangest ache in her neck, almost like a crick. How on earth did she get a crick in her neck, she wondered as she fluttered her lashes open. The first thing her eyes got sight of was Benjamin’s white shirt. How odd. Didn’t he take that off before we went to sleep? Yes, he did, she remembered they'd talked of chest hair and she had run her fingers over his bare, well-formed muscles, delighting in how his body reacted to her touches. So now why was he wearing a shirt and why did it feel like they were moving? Moving? Yes, moving. She had the oddest feeling they were in a carriage.
She jerked her head up and blinked owlishly a few times. They were in a carriage. “Why are we in a carriage?” she asked bluntly.
“We’re going somewhere. Don’t worry, we’re almost there,” he said, pulling her back to rest on his chest.
She groaned. “I hope you didn’t kidnap me to go eat waffles again,” she mumbled. She liked them well enough, but for goodness’ sake, enough was enough.
“No,” he said, chuckling. “We’re not going to eat waffles. But if you want some later that can be arranged.”
“No, thank you,” she said, sitting up and rubbing her neck.
His hand came to her neck and he gently massaged the sore muscles and tendons. “Better?” he murmured.
“Yes, thank you.” She felt the blanket he’d draped over her slip and she almost shrieked when she realized she was still in her chemise.
“Relax,” he said with a smile. “Where we’re going your chemise will be acceptable attire.”