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Alarm twanged within her. Her gaze flew up to meet his riveted stare. “What if it … doesn’t fit?”

“Then I’m going to kill myself forthwith,” he panted. “For life won’t be worth living.”

She laughed nervously, unconvinced.

He swallowed forcefully. “Deirdre, I’m not going to be able to wait much longer—”

“Oh!” She was being selfish again. She reached for the buttons of his trousers. “Here, let me help—”

He moved so fast, she didn’t even see it. Suddenly she was on her back again, this time with his hands pinning her wrists above her head. “Don’t—” His voice was a moan into her neck. “I won’t be able to stop—”

Calder couldn’t think, couldn’t reason. His thoughts had to fight their way through pounding animal lust, winding slowly through to his consciousness—God, her scent! Her skin—her curious touch—her sweet apprehension—

He’d never wanted someone so much in his entire existence, not even as a randy lad! Yet she was untried and nervous, a new bride. It wasn’t possible that she was ready for him. She must be terrified. He feared he was going to have to leave her before he did something they would both regret forever.

Chapter Thirty-five

“Calder?” Deirdre’s whisper was warm against his ear. “Take off your boots.”

His boots were airborne before Deirdre had time to draw three breaths. His trousers and underdrawers followed in a single sweep. He stood before her, naked and magnificent, his powerful chest rising and falling with the breathlessness of his desire for her.

She rose to her knees and pulled her chemise over her head, tossing it to drift lightly over the gleaming leather of his boots on the floor.

She still wore her stockings, but she didn’t think there was time to—

He was on her then, his hot hands on her skin, his burning mouth demanding hers. There was no more conversation, no more thought, no more time for apprehension. He lifted her and rolled them both into the pile of silk, one hand on her back, the other spread over her bare buttocks. He moved his long legs between hers and lay upon her. “Open,” he groaned. “Open for me, please, my darling—”

Her heart pounded at the words. Hiding her face in his throat to conceal the sudden dampness in her eyes, she lifted her legs until her knees gripped his hips. She
dug her fingers into his hair and held on, ready for the pain, willing to do anything for this wonderful man who called her his darling.

When she felt the thick head of his penis touch her softest parts, she willed herself not to cry out in surprise. He would thrust now, impaling her and taking her virginity. It would be over soon and it would never be so bad again. She was not afraid.

He did not move, but only held himself trembling above her, his breathing tight. Deirdre hesitated, then did what came naturally, using her grip on his hips to rotate her wet flesh slightly over his erection. He gasped and jolted, which forced him a little deeper into her. She went still at the stretching pain, but it never amounted to more than a minor sting and soon faded. Encouraged, she wrapped her legs tighter and brought him further within her, inch by inch, breathing into the ache as he slowly tore away the slight resistance. He allowed it, letting her set the pace, restraining himself with a whiteknuckle grip on the two fistfuls of satin beside her head.

At last he pressed fully within her. She’d had her doubts there at the last! When the last ache ceased, she stroked her hands down his rigid back. “There,” she whispered. “I have you inside me now.”

Then her hands clenched into the muscles of his back as he swelled instantly within her. She understood now—somehow he’d kept himself from his full size until she was ready! Despite the tears of pain that dampened her eyes, she bit her lip and breathed deeply. He would not know.

Still he grew, until she had to writhe beneath him, desperate to adjust herself to him, fearing it wouldn’t happen.
Heavens, he’s enormous! I can’t—it won’t—

At last, she felt herself fit to him. Letting out a long breath of relief, she opened her clenched fingers and eased them over his back. It was over.

Until he began to move.

With the first slow, dragging withdrawal, she cried out at the sensation. He went still instantly, making her whimper and twist against him. “More—” she gasped.

He moved so slowly, making each moment of it last an eternity of breathless pleasure. She whimpered, she moaned, she clung to him with arms and legs and lips, unable to believe she’d lived her entire life without the touch of this man!

Each slow draw, each exquisitely not-quite-painful thrust, drove her mad until she was a wicked, panting beast in his grasp. Sweat slicked their naked skin together, her lips grew sore from his ravaging kisses, her nipples throbbed from his hot, tender fingertips, she undulated beneath him, reaching for more, more—

Until at last it broke over her like a wave on a rock cliff. White-hot pleasure from somewhere deep inside her shot through her veins, burning her thoughts away, making her cling and shudder and moan into his sweat-slicked chest.

He gave in at last with a great roar, thrusting hard and fast—once, twice, thrice—until he shuddered and moaned her name into her hair, his hands tight on her, his body rigid for a long, silent moment. She felt him swell within her tender flesh, but she could only whimper softly at the new sensation. She was lost, afloat, swirling helplessly in the backwash of the deluge of him.

After a long moment, he withdrew from her. Though he’d decreased somewhat, she was so tender that she gasped.

“Shh.” He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her tenderly to lie half upon him. “Shh, my darling.”

My darling.
She wanted to cry every time he said it. She hid her response in a soft, breathless laugh. “Heavens,” she said. “I had no idea.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Neither did I.”

She pressed her face into his chest. “What do you mean? You’ve … you’ve done that before.”

Calder hesitated. “Not … quite like that.” He wasn’t ready for her to know what he himself was surprised to learn—that making love to Deirdre was soul-wrenching, stunning, outrageously beautiful and deeply, deeply disturbing. He felt raw, exposed …
new.
Never had he gone into a woman only to find himself lost in her, unsure of where he ended and she began. He’d sunk into Deirdre like a lost ship into the sea, helplessly floundering, powerless—without a will of his own.

He stroked his hands over her back as she still quivered in his arms. He didn’t know what to do with such earthshaking need. It frightened him, yet he longed to repeat it. He was parched for her already, only moments after leaving her hot, wet depths.

You’re in deep trouble now.

When she finds out, she’ll own you.

Perhaps. Unless … unless she felt it, too? He wanted to ask her, wanted to tell her, wanted to share his entire life with her, every dream, every plan, every instant of pain and joy—

He felt breathless with that desire, storm-tossed and exposed and suddenly, warily hopeful. She might understand. She might feel the same.

If he could only bring himself to tell her …

Deirdre lay in the warm circle of her husband’s
strength, feeling like a wife for the very first time. That had been …

There were no words. Wonderful? Exhilarating?

Happening again soon?

She would ask Calder. No, she couldn’t face him. Not after those sounds she dimly remembered making. Not after she’d clawed at him so, panting and sweating and matching his thrusts—

Her tender flesh shivered at her thoughts, knotting and throbbing anew. She wasn’t going to get more of the aforementioned if she didn’t brave this first conversation. She licked her sore lips, took a deep breath and pushed herself up to rest on her elbows, looking down at him. She felt daring and naughty with her naked backside exposed, although she did bunch some of the silk over her breasts. Her beautiful, gloriously naked Lord Brookhaven lay with one arm flung over his eyes.

He wasn’t asleep. She knew that because he jumped when she leaned down and bit his chest.

“Ouch!”

She batted her eyelashes at his offended glare. “I believe compliments are in order,” she said.

“Ah.” He gazed at her for a long moment. “You were splendid.”

She laughed. “I’ve no doubt of that! I meant that I wished to compliment you.” She tilted her head. “I know that a woman’s first time is usually rather unpleasant.”

His face softened. “I did not wish such for you,” he said, his voice husky and tender.

Her heart turned over and gave a few extra thumps. She let out a shaky breath. “Well, thank you. I can’t imagine it could ever be better than that.”

His dark eyes sharpened on her face. “Then your imagination is very limited.”

Oh, my God.
She hadn’t meant to issue a challenge, but she ought to have realized that Calder wasn’t the sort to rest on his laurels.

Well, it would be a short life, but she would die happy!

Then a sharp reminder of her experience shot through her, making her wince.

“Ah.” She hesitated. “Perhaps later?”

He ran the knuckles of one hand down her cheek. “That, my lady, is a bargain.”

Deirdre drew in a long, shuddering breath. This man could turn her dreams into golden truth … or he could shatter them with a touch. To be so vulnerable before another, to risk herself so dangerously—every cautious, calculating bone in her body cried out, “Take care! Don’t fall!”

Too late. She had fallen, breathless and quivering, into his arms with her heart wide open. All the years of self-preservation and watchfulness were as nothing. She was raw and naked and new.

Yet, what could she be thinking? This was Calder, the most responsible, forthright man alive. He would never turn on her. She mustered a smile for him, though her feelings did not lend themselves to anything so mild. She managed, somehow, not to cling to him as he rose from the bed.

She really must get hold of herself. After all, she was a married woman. She had this man for the rest of her life!

He dressed quickly and, of course, efficiently. She rolled over onto her stomach and watched him tie his
neckcloth with swift, practiced movements. “Duty calls?”

His gaze slid to hers in the mirror. “Yes, though I can scarcely hear it through a clamoring desire to climb back in there with you.”

She buried her smile in the pillow for a moment. Then she lifted her head. “Should I … stay here?”

His dark eyes flared hotly for a moment, then he shook his head. “I’m bound to be a while. Don’t forget, I have a factory to fix.”

Blinking, Deirdre realized that she’d forgotten entirely about the wreckage they’d left behind yesterday.
“Merde,”
she breathed.

He snorted. “Indeed. Many times over, I’m afraid.”

She propped herself up on her elbows and tilted her head as she gazed at him buttoning his waistcoat. “One would have thought you’d be there at cock’s crow, giving orders and bringing chaos to its knees.”

He turned then and gazed at her naked, mostly uncovered length on the tumbled bedding. “One would have thought …” He shook off his daze. “Something tells me that I’m not going to be starting my days as early as I used to.”

She dipped her head regally. “Why, thank you, kind sir!” She couldn’t resist wriggling just a bit, watching his face.

His jaw hardened. “I. Am. Leaving. Now.”

“Wait!” She scrambled off the bed, pulling the sheet with her to wrap loosely and not very effectively over her nudity.

He waited, as commanded, as she approached him. His gaze ran from her bare legs to the fall of her tousled
hair over her shoulders. “You will be the death of me, won’t you?”

She lifted her chin. “Nonsense. I only require a husbandly kiss good-bye.”

A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “Nice try. You know I won’t be able to stop with one.”

He moved to the bellpull. “I’ll ring for Patricia.

“Heavens, no! She’ll die when she sees this mess. You’d better let me see what I can salvage first.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Throw it all out. I’ll pay triple to have new ones delivered by the end of the week.”

She pushed at him. “These are not just gowns, O Lord Poundheavy! These are works of art. They are worth saving.”

He slid his hands from her shoulders, down her arms. He loved having the right to touch her as he pleased. “Keep them then,” he murmured. “Leave them right there, on the bed. I quite liked it.”

She blushed and looked away, but her snicker betrayed her. “Well, perhaps the blue one …”

He laughed out loud, feeling free and buoyant as he never had before. She looked up at him in surprise, then she smiled slowly. He felt warmed by it, as if he’d stepped into the sunlight. There was time to talk later. They had the rest of their lives, after all!

He hadn’t made it ten steps down the hall before he wanted to turn back and hold her again. How was he to concentrate on his broken factory when she was brushing that hair, dressing that body, drawing fresh stockings up those legs—

So this is why my brother betrayed me.

He didn’t blame him. If Rafe stood between him and Deirdre right now, Calder would seriously have to consider a spot of bloody murder! It was miraculous that Rafe had restrained himself with Phoebe for as long as he had. The sudden understanding lightened Calder’s heart further, until he grinned wickedly at Fortescue in the front hall.

Leaving the house to fling himself upon his waiting horse, Calder laughed for nearly a mile thinking of his stoic butler’s dumbfounded confusion.

Hell, one would think he’d never smiled before!

BOOK: Celeste Bradley - [Heiress Brides 02]

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