Goodness, it was ugly. Without question, this was going to be the first room she would redecorate.
She had taken this chamber as her own because of its proximity to the master suite, knowing a husband liked being near his wife. Of course, she and Henry had shared a bedchamber, and a bed, from the beginning of their marriage. The only time they had slept apart was immediately after she had given birth, and even then it did not last for more than a few nights.
Though Richard had not said anything on the matter, Juliet suspected he would have a different view on a married couple’s sleeping arrangements. For now, it seemed prudent that she have a bedchamber and he have a bedchamber instead of sharing. Yet one more thing distinguishing this marriage from her first.
The guests had left soon after luncheon, their sincere wishes for her happiness ringing in Juliet’s ears. After a few tense, awkward moments alone, Richard had politely excused himself, then bellowed for Mr. Barclay. Taking a rather large pile of papers from his secretary, Richard had gone into the study to attend to business matters.
Juliet had not seen him since he took his leave of her.
She kept her normal routine for the remainder of the day—sitting with the children while they ate their supper, helping Lizzy with her bath, then tucking each one under the covers before reading their favorite bedtime story. But instead of the master bedchamber, she had come to the rose room to await her groom.
With a wistful sigh, Juliet retreated to the small dressing area. Her fragile hopes as she recited her wedding vows earlier today seemed to haunt her as she prepared for bed. She had married a stranger. A handsome, virile, stoic, at times somber man. The precise opposite of her first husband, with whom she had been blissfully happy.
My God.
Juliet swallowed hard and reached for her nightclothes, glad she had dismissed her maid for the night, relieved she was alone. Everything was a blur as she changed into the silk nightgown and matching robe purchased especially for tonight. She sat at her dressing table and let down her hair, then slowly brushed it in an effort to keep her dizzying thoughts at bay.
She had married a stranger, yet so had Richard. Did that put them on even footing? Or make them equally foolish? She honestly couldn’t decide.
There was a tap on her door and it opened before she answered. Richard appeared in the open doorway. He was wearing a sapphire blue brocade dressing gown that emphasized the width of his shoulders. She could see the dark hair curling on his chest where the robe gaped open and realized he wore nothing else beneath it.
She thought him handsome in the daylight, but in the romantic glow of the candles he looked like a classic work of art, finely chiseled and excitingly proportioned. Juliet felt breathless and weak-kneed as the reality of it all suddenly swept over her like a tidal wave. She was married. To this magnificent, powerful man.
After weeks of wondering what it would feel like to be another man’s wife, the time had arrived. It was their wedding night and they both knew what was about to happen.
Closing the door behind him, Richard crossed the room. As he drew closer, heat prickled along her skin and her stomach muscles suddenly contracted. His hair was damp and she realized he had just taken a bath.
“Do you want me to extinguish the candles?” he asked.
The deep timbre of his voice caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise. Juliet took a steadying breath. As a young woman she had learned the best way to cope with nerves was to stare them down.
“If you don’t object, I’d like to keep the candles lit,” she replied in as bold a tone as she could manage. “In fact, why don’t you light a few more?”
He gave her a long, disbelieving look, then did as she bade. The glow of the numerous candles brought the decorative roses to life, casting an almost pinkish hue over everything.
“Hell, this decor is sure to give us nightmares,” Richard said dryly as he glanced about the room.
She smiled, then lowered her lashes coyly. “Then we probably shouldn’t fall asleep.”
He raised a brow and moved closer. She could see that he had shaved recently and the clean scent of masculine soap filled her senses. Juliet closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
“You enjoy having sex with the lights on?” he asked as he reached out and slowly pushed aside a stray lock of her hair, his fingers gliding along the hairline.
With his thumb and forefinger he continued down her throat to the swell of her breast. Juliet’s eyes popped open and she stared into his face, savoring the pleasure of his delicate touch. It had been so long she had forgotten how a man’s caress could feel.
She took a step forward and slid her hands up the lapels of his dressing gown. “Sometimes candlelight, or even daylight, adds excitement,” she answered throatily. “What do you prefer?”
“Seeing my bed partner has multiple advantages. Especially when she is as pretty and luscious as you.” His voice was as sultry as his heavy-lidded gaze and full of promise.
She smiled softly at the compliment. All women liked hearing they were attractive, but he uttered the words as if she were the only woman he had ever told she was pretty.
Playfully, Juliet trailed a fingertip down the center of his bare chest. Richard caught her hand. She swallowed as her heartbeat raced. She waited for him to kiss her, but instead he went to the table on the other side of the room and poured them each a goblet of wine.
“I imagine your other wedding night was very different,” he said casually as he handed her a drink.
Juliet frowned and looked down at the wine in her glass. “Yes. Henry and I were very much in love.”
“And we are not.”
She lifted her head and gazed into his eyes. “No, we are not in love.” Not yet. “But I am glad that we are married. I like being married, having a household to run—”
“Having a man take care of you,” he interjected with a cryptic grin.
“Caring for me,” she corrected softly. “Yes, I like it.”
“Good. I want you to be happy, Juliet.” He reached out and took the glass from her hand. Smiling, he set both their glasses on the table. His eyes were darkening with passion.
Juliet could feel her cheeks growing warm. She had had three sips of wine and almost nothing to eat all day. But it was not the lack of food or the potent spirits that were making her feel light-headed. It was Richard.
She felt captivated by the purposeful expression on his face. Suddenly, his lips parted. Her name came out as a groan a second before his lips descended on hers. She opened willingly for him, and he probed inside her mouth with tantalizing sweeps of his tongue. Sensations raced through her body, the heat surging between her thighs.
Lord preserve her! Juliet recognized the feeling for what it was—intense sexual desire. She had felt it the first time he had kissed her weeks ago. Yet she felt it even more acutely now, knowing it would not have to end with a kiss.
Richard’s true feelings about this marriage were difficult to fathom, but one thing was certain. He found her desirable, as she did him. It was as good a place as any to start.
Juliet removed her robe, and then without pausing to think, she grasped her nightgown and pulled it off over her head. Tossing it aside, she tilted her chin and gazed into his eyes. “I believe I’m ready. And you?”
He stilled, his gaze growing hotter, more intense. “I was ready the minute I walked into the room,” he said gruffly.
Juliet’s heart raced with a nervous thrill. She walked slowly to the bed, lying down in a sensual pose on the soft mattress. His eyes hungry, Richard followed, climbing onto the bed and stretching out beside her.
Turning, he began nuzzling her breasts with his lips and tongue, circling around the nipple. Her blood heating, Juliet dug her fingers into the tense muscles of his shoulders and arched her hips up against his.
He raised his head. “I want this to be good for you, Juliet.”
“It is, Richard,” she breathed.
He continued w
ith his tender ministrations to her breasts and heat blazed through her, pooling between her thighs. He began nibbling his way down her body in a slow, sensual glide. His fingers led the way, touching and stroking, and then finally, finally, they came to rest on the top of her heated thighs.
Oh, yes. Small shocks of pleasure tingled through her as his fingers delicately stroked the sensitized folds of flesh between her legs. The restless, edgy feeling continued to build, the pressure almost too intense to handle. Every stroke of his skillful fingers brought a mixture of agitation and pleasure until her body was coiled so tightly she thought it would snap.
Richard was in no hurry, however. He was slow and deliberate, using the heel of his palm to cup her intimately. Juliet’s head tipped back wantonly and she closed her eyes, breathing deeply as his fingers slid inside her. He set a rhythm that soon had her sobbing and surging toward him. The sweetness continued to build, higher and higher, and then suddenly Juliet heard herself cry out loudly as release came, rippling through her with shattering power.
It took a few moments for her to regain her senses, and when her eyelids fluttered open, she saw Richard watching her, his gaze hot and intense. He reached out and gently touched her face, and a rush of tenderness enveloped her. Feeling the tears gathering behind her eyes, she quickly turned her head and kissed his palm.
The mattress dipped as Richard shifted. Cupping her chin, he turned her head and captured her mouth with his. When the kiss ended, she could feel his warm breath on her cheek, harsh and ragged. Gathering her courage, Juliet finally opened her eyes.
He loomed over her, his expression tight. Picking up her limp hand, he whispered hoarsely, “Touch me.”
She found the request infinitely arousing. Eagerly Juliet reached down between their bodies and wrapped her fingers around his penis. Moving her hand slowly up and down his full length, she soon discovered the rhythm he preferred. The skin was silky soft, but underneath, the thick shaft was rigid, letting her know he was more than ready to possess her.
Juliet shifted her position to accommodate him, but he surprised her again by turning away.
“What are you doing?”
“Protecting you from getting pregnant,” he answered, reaching for something he had left on the rug beside the bed.
She caught a fleeting glimpse of a small, red velvet envelope before his body rolled on top of her. “I can’t wait any longer, Juliet,” he said, in a strangled, harsh voice.
As he spoke, she felt him slide the length of his rigid penis along her entry until her dampness coated him. He shifted his body to rest his weight on his forearms and she spread her thighs wider. He made a rough sound deep in his throat at the gesture and gave a powerful thrust.
Juliet gasped loudly as a sharp fullness burned through her. Not a pain per se, but a deep, low pressure that made her feel possessed.
She relaxed and opened to him instinctively, sliding her palms to his muscled thighs, urging him closer. He pushed farther and farther into her and her dormant flesh opened and stretched, taking him eagerly inside.
Just when she thought him seated to the hilt, he grasped her bottom with both hands, tipped her hips, and plunged deeper. Her shoulders arched and she stared up into his face, finding his expression fierce and intent.
She felt herself pull away from the rough, gritty look in his eyes. He stilled, sensing the change in her. “Am I hurting you?”
The gentleness in his voice instantly calmed her fears.
“No. I . . . no.”
She bent her knees to cradle him, suddenly shy. She had fallen so easily into their intimacy, savoring the closeness. He was her husband, and in the eyes of God and man that made it all right, yet it still felt strange.
She pushed upward and Richard groaned, his movements quickening. He drove in hard and fast and she was surprised to feel the stirring of a second climax begin. But it had no time to fully develop. Suddenly, deep shudders rocked him. She waited to feel the hot surge of his seed pour into her, yet it did not come. Curious, she flexed her inner muscles to see if he had withdrawn and felt the solid proof that he was still deep inside her body.
“Sorry, I couldn’t wait for you,” he murmured, circling his hips and grinding himself against her.
Startled, Juliet felt a jolt of pleasure. She moved her hips, searching for the right pressure, the needed friction. Richard kept pace with her, their bodies sliding together. The sensations built quickly and then the spasm took hold, not as violent or intense as before, yet still totally satisfying.
Richard rested on top of her until her shuddering ended, then pulled himself from her body and rolled onto his back.
Her senses drowsy with the sweetest satisfaction, Juliet savored the incredible emotions of release. It truly was like no other feeling in the world and she was not embarrassed to admit she had missed it. Missed it dreadfully.
It was amazing, really, that she had been able to capture it so completely with Richard. It had to mean something that she felt secure enough to give her passion free rein. Precisely what, she wasn’t certain, but at the moment she was simply too tired, too content to think about it.
Richard left the bed and a coolness spread over Juliet’s body. She heard him over at the washstand, pouring water from the pitcher into the basin, then wringing out a cloth. When he’d finished, he blew out the candles. Returning to the bed, he pressed his lips to her shoulder before stretching out beside her. Juliet smiled in the darkness. Snuggling close, she fitted herself against Richard’s warmth and promptly fell asleep.
Chapter 6
Lost in contemplation, Richard stared at the ceiling, the only spot in the whole room that wasn’t covered in hideous red roses, and waited for his wife to fall asleep. He had just experienced the most intense sexual encounter of his life and it completely baffled him.
He was not sure he had ever made a woman climax so intensely. It had brought him nearly as much pleasure as her and his immediate thought was that he wanted to do it again. And again.
Sighing, Richard covered his eyes with the back of his forearm. Juliet’s wanton abandon was clearly a part of her passionate nature, yet he was certain their amazing sexual encounter was rooted in her willingness to open herself completely to him. He felt a stab of tenderness, followed by a stab of guilt. She trusts me!
The realization moved him profoundly, but Richard pushed the thoughts and emotions away. He didn’t want to think about it, couldn’t dwell on it. He intended this marriage to be like a business partnership because that was what he knew, that was what he was so successful at doing. These intense, confusing emotions would only serve to muddy the waters and that made him very uneasy.
Lying beside him, Juliet stirred. Her skin was covered with a thin sheen of perspiration. She shivered and he immediately pulled the covers over her, wrapping her snugly to prevent a chill. But it wasn’t enough for her.
Murmuring contentedly, she snuggled against him. Richard’s arm went around her, drawing her close. Her head lay in the hollow between his neck and shoulder. A perfect fit.
In the darkness Richard waited. Her warm flesh draped over his, her glossy hair spilling across his shoulder and chest, her fragile hand pressing lightly over his heart. Gradually Juliet’s breathing slowed and deepened, but by then Richard’s desire had flared.
Damn, he wanted her again. Her legs locked around his waist, her hips moving up to meet his, thrust for thrust, her head thrashing from side to side, her breathing coming in short pants as her excitement mounted. He wanted to watch her lovely face as he moved within her body, wanted to lose himself in her seductive spell.
Blast and damn! Knowing he couldn’t stand this torture another second, Richard carefully withdrew from the bed. Juliet mumbled in her sleep and turned, curling up against his pillow. Breath held, Richard waited anxiously as she settled herself. Soon, the deep, even breaths of sleep resumed. It was safe to leave.
But not nearly as easy.
Raw with wanting, Richard stood
beside the bed, gazing at his sleeping bride. Unable to resist a final touch, he smoothed her hair with trembling fingers, then leaned his cheek against hers and whispered, “What the hell am I going to do with you, my fair Juliet?”
The next morning, Juliet awoke alone in the comfortable bed. She stretched her hand out, running it along the space beside her, the coolness telling her it had been empty for many hours. Perhaps most of the night.
Sighing, she rolled to her back, feeling the ache and soreness in her muscles. He might have abandoned her during the night, but before he left her, Richard had made love to her very thoroughly.
Physically, at least. The emotional intimacy had been lacking on both their parts. More on his than hers, she admitted, but that would change over time. She would see to it.
Washed and dressed, Juliet entered the morning room with trepidation tightening her chest, only to find it empty. She listened motionless as a blushing footman told her Mr. Harper was still abed, then added that the children had finished their breakfast and gone off on an extended walk with Mr. Barclay.
Dismissing the servant, she poured herself a cup of coffee. Sleeping alone, now breakfast alone. Was this to be the new routine?
Despairing at the thought, she took a bite of dry toast and tried to logically consider her options. She had just rejected the idea of casually wandering past the master suite when Richard strolled into the room. The toast dropped noisily from her fingers, landing beside her empty plate.
“Good morning, Juliet.”
“Bonjour, mari.” Her face heated at his puzzled frown. Goodness. Her nerves had prompted an idiotic impulse that had most assuredly backfired. “I apologize. You don’t speak any French.”
“Only enough to order a meal from a dinner menu. If it isn’t too long.” He paused. “And I’m not too hungry.”
Juliet smiled as a sense of relief spread through her. “I can read it well enough, but my accent is atrocious.”
Tis the Season to Be Sinful Page 8