A Practical Arrangement (17 page)

She looked away. “Nothing. I'm sorry. You...You may go on.”

“
Look at me.” His silken tone gentled the command. “I expect the truth when I ask you a question.”

“
I...I thought you were about to perform the wedding night duties.”

Thomas laughed low and throaty. “Sweetheart, it's not like that. I want you to forget whatever nonsense you've been told – or imagined – about what will transpire in our bed. Understand?”

She nodded mutely, a blush spreading over her skin.

“
That's better. It will not be easy for you, Evangeline, I understand. I will do everything in my power to ease your fears. But you must trust that I will not hurt you, for fear will cause you discomfort where there should be none. And,” he crooked a grin, “I'll not perform
duties
, Evangeline. What we share will be done
together
. Our bodies will offer comfort and pleasure to one another.” He dipped to brush his lips against hers anew, rubbing his thumb along her jaw. “Sweetheart, let me give you these.”

His mouth found hers, drinking in her softness as he moved against her sensually. No resistance met his endeavor; neither did she reciprocate. When he broke the kiss, his eyes questioned.

“
Mr. Masterson,” she began shakily, “I do not require all of...
this
. I accept you, husband, and give myself to you. But I am not like other women.”

“
Is that so?” Thomas arched his brow. “And what are
other
women that you are not?”

She blinked up at him. “Surely you should know.”

“
Enlighten me, Evangeline,” he encouraged devilishly.

“
I've told you,” she squeaked out miserably, “I do not require outlandish affection, nor do I enjoy being close to...to...”

“
Sweetheart, you will enjoy it.”

He claimed her mouth with determination. Damn her fears. Pliant lips accepted his branding, still hesitant to participate. It was a beginning of sorts, and Thomas welcomed the small offering, aware of its cost to her. Teasing and suckling her mouth with patient deliberation, he coaxed her lips apart and entered her with his tongue. Her gasp allowed him further access, enabling him to remain inside as she sought to push him out. He groaned, aroused by the war of wills between them. Victory was his, for her protests gentled, replaced by meek surrender. Deep satisfaction flooded him and he continued the amorous assault, introducing her to the feel of his mouth upon hers.

A weak whimper met his growl of arousal and he stilled, finding her gaze to discern the nature of the sound spilling into his mouth. “Are you all right?” he questioned softly.

Surprise showed clearly on her face. She'd not expected him to ask, or maybe not to care he realized.

“
I think so,” she replied honestly, breathlessly.

Caressing her cheek, Thomas watched the dim firelight dance across her skin. “You are beautiful, Evangeline.”

The amber flecks in her brown eyes dulled at his words, and she turned her face from his. “You do not have to speak such things to me, Mr. Masterson. I know I am a plain woman.”

Firmly, he turned her toward him again. “You're right,” he ground out. “I do not have to speak such things. I want to. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and I find you lovely.”

“
Oh,” she managed. “I...I do not know what to say.”

“
Learn to accept my compliments, sweetheart.” He studied her, sensing the moment ripe to move forward. Reaching down, he untied the ribbons holding her wide necked gown and pushed the material open.

Instinctively, her hand flew to grasp the material.

“
Shh,” Thomas crooned. “Let me.” His eyes fixed on hers as he slid his hand beneath the material and sought the softness of her tiny breast. “So soft,” he murmured, grazing his palm across her flesh. Her body betrayed her to him, responding eagerly. “My touch pleases you?” he asked, knowing the answer, wanting her to acknowledge the truth.

“
Mr. Masterson...”

“
I am your husband, Evangeline. Call me Thomas.”

She shook her head. “It is too intimate.”

“
Sweetheart,” he cooed seductively, “I've your lovely breast in my palm and my lips upon your own. Is that not intimate?” He captured her sob with his mouth, feasting until it was a forgotten memory. “Say my name, sweetheart. I need you to say it.”

Chapter Nine

“
Thomas!” she cried out, sensation rendering her helpless.

“
That's it, sweetheart,” he encouraged softly.

His hand stroked her expertly beneath the gown. Her breast tingled and a fullness seemed to swell her flesh. What was he doing to her? Panic flooded her senses, for this moment brought her deepest fears to life. If she succumbed to her emotions, she'd be as foolhardy as her mother and sister; giving in once would only lead her toward total enslavement.

But, oh! His hands and mouth were relentless, wonderful even.

He pushed the gown down over her shoulders, exposing her to his hungry gaze. She returned to her senses at once.

“
What are you doing?” she gasped. “Dear God, must you?”

Her frantic plea stilled his hands, but not before her breasts lay bare to him. He locked onto her wild-eyed stare, his own green-gray gaze alive with molten heat. “Easy, sweetheart.”

The short reprieve afforded the moment she needed to collect herself.

“
I'll go slow,” he added, as if he knew what she had gained in the brief respite. He kissed her gently. “Only say a word and I shall give you a moment to adjust.”

She nodded when instead she wanted to skitter away from him. Oh! Who was she trying to fool? His bold touch and heated kiss threatened to drown her in a sea of sensation - not an entirely unpleasant death, she admitted privately.

His eyes darkened gray and stormy, and then, then he did the unspeakable. He lowered that mouth and lavished his kiss upon her breast!

For the love of the saints!

She tried to pull away, truly she did, but those large hands held her firm. Adding to her dismay and confusion – and dare say no small injury to her sense of decorum – his words of earlier echoed in her brain, rattling around with no love of decency. She did enjoy it. Pleasant tingles danced wherever his mouth seared her, and just when she had no defenses left to withstand it all his hand wandered lower, snapping her out of her near delirium.

Oh, no!

Never did he cease those terrible, wonderful ministrations at her breasts as he sifted her gown down over her bottom, lifting her in his hands effortlessly and without her understanding how it had been accomplished. She could barely draw breath so unhinged was she.

Exposed.

Her body lay bare, the cool air tickling her flesh in nipping bites. Now, that hand ventured to stroke her hip and thigh, igniting a hellfire of heat in its wake. Should she allow this exploration of her very self? Is this what was required for a man to stiffen so as to be able to force his way into a woman's body? She shivered, an uncontrollable shudder of fear that threatened to override her dizzy enjoyment.

“
Ahh!”

Thomas stilled, then returned to her mouth. He did not continue kissing her, rather, he watched her a long moment. What he was waiting for, she could not begin to fathom. Vaguely aware of his movements, she could not tear her eyes from his to discover their purpose. Only when he shrugged off his shirt and lie against her did she understand, for his bare, heated flesh pressed next to her own.

“
Mr... Thomas,” she croaked.

“
Sweetheart, no,” he cupped her chin and lifted, keeping her from looking down. “Don't look tonight. It will only heighten your anxiety.” He kissed her tenderly. “Shh...” He placed a finger over her lips, tracing their outline.

His kisses began in earnest, then, stealing her breath, luring her to a place of bliss she could not resist following to. Those strong hands resumed sliding over her as well, descending her body in measured forays until he reached her most secret flesh. His gravelly moan poured into her mouth. She froze, squeezing her legs together, whimpering her protest. Tearing her mouth from his, Evangeline turned her head away.

“
Don't hide from me,” he murmured, kissing her ear, trailing his mouth across her neck and down to her collarbone.

The potent combination of words and kisses, while pleasing, could not distract her attention from the weight of his hand against her
there
.

“
Easy, sweetheart,” he whispered next to her ear. “I am only going to touch you. It will not hurt, I promise.”

A cry escaped her when he stroked along her sensitive flesh, and her legs shook against his body. Soft endearments tumbled from his lips between kisses, gentle in tone and arousing in nature. He praised her body's softness, adored her welcoming wetness – much to her confusion – and coaxed her thighs wider. Time folded upon itself, for it seemed his attention went on forever.

“
Please...Thomas,” she appealed at last. “I can bear no more.”

“
I know. You've been so brave, Evangeline. Soon you will trust me enough to give you the ultimate pleasure.”

Her blush deepened as she forced out her next question. “Should I...what I mean to ask is...do you require me to touch you so you can ready for the act?”

His groan threw her off. “Not tonight,” he murmured against her lips. “If you touched me, sweetheart, I'd spill before the act could be accomplished.”

“
Oh.”

Whatever did that mean?

Thomas kissed her senseless, and somehow, settled himself between her thighs before she could close them. His heaviness sparked a troubling unease and she tensed beneath him.

“
Tell me, sweetheart,” he insisted gently at her reaction.

“
I'm afraid,” she breathed nervously.

“
What exactly are you afraid of?” he probed.

Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I cannot get away,” she whispered in a strained, terse voice. “You might become overwhelmed with...with your emotions and hurt me without meaning to.” Closing her eyes tightly, a tear seeped from one corner and tracked down her cheek.

Thomas kissed it away, raising his chest from hers as he rested on his forearms. “Is this better, sweetheart?”

She could only nod.

“
Who told you I would hurt you?”

“
My...my mother.”

Thomas cursed, then kissed her tenderly, undoing the little composure she clung to. He rained gentle kisses over her face, cupping her cheeks in his large hands. “I am not going to hurt you. Relax for me.” He moved with grace, stroking against her private flesh with his hard length, slowly easing her legs apart as he nestled closer to her core. “Breathe, sweetheart,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

She did as he asked, desperate for his words to prove true. Sweet pleasure coursed through her at his gentle, controlled movements, and little by little, her muscles went lax beneath him.

“
That's it,” he encouraged, pressing against her. “I'm going to push inside you, easy, baby.”

And he was easy, moving with a protective concern Evangeline hadn't anticipated. Her body stretched, and then he eased back, pressing forward again to stretch her in slow increments.

“
God, sweetheart, you're so small,” he growled, the harshness of his voice in stark contrast with the gentleness of his body's movements.

No opportunity to absorb his claim presented itself, for he moved again, this time stretching her until a burning sensation drew a gasp from her lungs.

He stilled immediately. “Better now?” His eyes searched hers, worry plain in his expression.

She returned his heavy gaze, eyes wide and wary. “Better,” she breathed.

He rested his forehead against hers again, gathering his own composure. “Christ, you're small.”

A new unease spread in her middle. “I'm sorry. I...I did not know,” she apologized, not fully sure why she did so. He groaned as if in pain, worrying her further. “Am I hurting you?” she asked softly, fresh tears threatening.

Another groan reverberated through him and into her. “God, no, sweetheart. You feel so good.”

His voice was ragged and hoarse, and coupled with what he’d just confessed, Evangeline grew warm all over. He pushed deeper within her. The burning built to a fevered pitch, but she did not wish to stop him. Again, his retreat. More burning. How much more could there be? When he pushed inside her again, a startled cry tore from her lips despite her attempts to contain it.

“
That was the worst of it, sweetheart. I promise.”

For untold minutes he remained still, seated deeply inside her body. He kissed her tenderly. She gripped his shoulders, desperate to be comforted as her body adjusted to his filling presence. At last, he looked at her, his gaze blazing.

“
I'm going to move now, Evangeline. Easy.”

“
I am all right now,” she assured shakily. Whether truth or lie, she could not say for certain.

Oh! When he moved, she was in both pleasure and pain. His gaze burned into her with such intensity she buried her face against his shoulder, for she couldn't look into his eyes and retain any of her heart. His breath fanned against her hair, his rough groans wild and carnal – how she understood this, a mystery. Still, he remained gentle and controlled, which only captured her trust more fully.