Claiming His Wife (17 page)

Still, he didn't want to cause her any
distress either.  So he parried the question back to
her.

"Why wouldn't I want to take care of
my wife?" he asked, rubbing his thumb across her cheek as she
leaned into the caress.  Her eyes sparked, with temper, and he
could barely hold back his grin.  Even sick and feeling weak,
his Eleanor never completely lost her spirit. 

"But why would you want to
take care of
me
?"

Edwin had quite a reputation with the
ladies.  He knew what they liked, what they wanted, but when
it came to moments like this with his wife, he found himself
floundering.  The look in her eyes told him quite clearly that
there was a right answer and a wrong answer, and unless he wanted
to see more than just a flash of her temper, he'd better figure out
what was what and quickly.

"Because... that's what I do.
 I'm your husband.  I care about you... I want to take
care of you..."  The waiting expression on her face frustrated
him further, as he knew that he still wasn't getting it quite
right.  "Bloody hell... Nell, what do you want from me?
 I love you, I want to take care of you... what is so wrong
with that?"

Sudden tension in her body had her
nearly vibrating as she suddenly refocused on him with an intense
look that took his breath away.  "You love me?"

Gods above, he would never understand
women.  "Yes, of course, what - Nell, why are you crying?
 Stop... dammit, what did I say?"

Eyes awash in wetness, huge tears were
welling up and beginning to trickle down her cheeks, too quickly
for Edwin to halt them.  He had no idea what he'd said wrong,
inducing an unaccustomed panic.  Usually when she was this
upset with him, he at least knew why.

"You really love me?"  Her voice
was watery, wavering, as she pressed her face against his chest
again, frustratingly hiding her expression from him.  But the
wistful happiness in her voice was something he
understood.

"Yes, of course I do, Nell..." he said
soothingly, wondering if her condition had affected her head as
well.  He rubbed her back in small circles, doing his best to
placate the little woman.  

Suddenly she smacked his chest with
her palm, making him yelp in surprise as she pulled away.
 Dammit, her mood had volleyed again and now she looked
incensed.  "What do you mean 'of course?'  How was I to
know that you love me when you've never said it before?"

Edwin rubbed his chest, trying to
think back.  "Haven't I?"

"No, you dolt!  I would remember
it if you had!"  

He gave her a stern look.  "No
insults, sweetheart.  I wouldn't spank you right now, because
you're not feeling well, but believe me, I will be keeping a tally
over the next seven months and once you're recovered from birthing,
you will be getting your due."

To his surprise, his wife
froze again, eyeing him warily.  Her hand went automatically
to her stomach, covering it, and Edwin felt his usual masculine
surge of smugness at knowing that she was carrying his child.
 

"You know?"

"Know what?"  This might be one
of the most confusing conversations he'd ever had with his wife.
 He'd heard that women could become quite volatile during
pregnancy - and considering that Eleanor could be volatile most of
the time, perhaps he shouldn't be surprised that he was having a
bit of trouble keeping up with her now.  

She nibbled her lower lip, looking
worried all of the sudden.  "That I'm with child."

"Yes, of course, sweetheart," he said
gently, wondering at the nervous tension that hovered around her.
 "I've known for a while... I can count you know."

A blush suffused her cheeks, making
her look less sickly, which was a relief.  "Oh... and... you
don't mind?"

It felt like a megrim was
growing in the front of his head and he resisted the urge to rub at
it.  After all, he didn't want to set his wife off.
 Taking a deep breath, he reached out and pulled her into his
arms.  She didn't resist, thankfully.  Holding her nice
and tight, enjoying the way she felt pressed up against him, he
lowered his head to murmur in her ear.  Obviously, her morning
illness
had
 affected her mind, and it was his duty to put his wife
at ease.

"Nell, I'm thrilled that you're
carrying our child.  I will love him or her, as much as I love
you.  I'm going to take care of you, when you're ill and when
you're well.  I will discipline you when you need it.
 And I will do this for the rest of our lives.
 Everything about you, including your penchant for
occasionally being an unmanageable hoyden, makes me happy.
 Alright?"

Nodding her head, Eleanor rubbed her
face against him.  His robe clung damply to his skin.
 

Dammit, she was crying
again.

******

Soaking in her bath, Eleanor didn't
think she'd ever been so happy.  Edwin had taken care of her
all morning, until he'd received some correspondence from London
that he'd had to answer immediately, and he'd handed her over to
Poppy for a bit.  

The poor man had seemed a bit at a
loss this morning, especially when she'd cried.  Which amused
her, because he certainly didn't mind her tears when he was turning
her bottom a hot, bright red.  But when he wasn't doing that,
they seemed to panic him a bit.  

She still wanted to kick
him, just a little, because of his confusion and complete lack of
understanding as to why hearing him say "I love you" was so
important.  When she'd tried to explain, he'd said, "If ever a
day should go by when I don't say I love you, may never a moment
pass without you knowing I do. Do you hear me sweetheart?"
 She'd nearly swooned.

Although he'd then admitted to having
read it somewhere in the past, but he'd insisted that the sentiment
was his.  A small smile slid across her face as she remembered
the panicked expression on his face when he thought she might cry
again.  Silly man.  But his words had warmed her and he'd
seemed willing enough when she told him that she would like to hear
it more often.  Even if he didn't understand it.

"You look quite a bit
better."

Playfully, she scowled as she opened
her eyes, focusing on the darkly handsome man who was closing the
door to their bedroom behind him.  She couldn't summon up any
true ire at the moment.  Her mood was far too happy and
relaxed.

"Are you saying I looked
unattractive earlier?"

Edwin just grinned at her, his dark
eyes dancing.  "When?  Before, during or after you were
emptying your stomach into the basin?"

"Wretch," she said,
laughing as she flicked water in his direction.  Her heartbeat
seemed to pick up as his eyes traveled down to the water she was
laying in, lingering on her rounded breasts and pert nipples.
 Eleanor was feeling
much
 better than she had been
this morning.  Smiling wickedly, she reached for the washcloth
hanging on the side of the tub.  She had already used it to
clean herself, of course, but that wasn't the point.

Her husband's gaze sharpened as she
dragged the cloth up her arm, and to her shoulder, watching as the
droplets of water ran down her skin.  The water was perfectly
clear, nothing to obscure his gaze as she moved the cloth down and
rubbed the nubby material over her breasts.  Her nipples,
which had already been hardening, tightened into tiny buds
instantly with the stimulation.  

"Mmmm," she purred,
rubbing them a little harder than was necessary, arching her back
to thrust them up. Droplets slid down the exposed curves of her
breasts as they rose up out of the water.  

"Temptress," her husband rasped.
 She smiled, hearing the slithering of clothing that indicated
he was already undressing.  

With a soft little sigh, ignoring his
accusation, she ran the washcloth down her stomach and between her
legs.  The little pleasure bud there stood to attention as she
rubbed the cloth in a slow, circular motion over it, making her
moan with true pleasure.  Warmth pressed against her shoulders
and she opened her eyes to look into her husband's.
 

Dropping the cloth, she tilted her
head upwards for a kiss.

"Oh no," he murmured, sliding his hand
into the water and picking up the cloth to press it back against
her sensitive folds.  "Keep going."

Eleanor scowled at him.  "I only
did it to get you over here."

The rakish grin that Edwin gave her
made her heart flutter.  It looked like he had the very devil
in his eyes.  "I know... but I want to watch you."

A blush crept up her cheeks.  It
was one thing to behave like a wanton in order to tease him, quite
another to have him so close to her, watching her as she touched
herself in a completely unladylike way.  Yet, the intense
hunger in his dark eyes made her want to please him.
 

Almost hesitantly, she took the cloth
back from him, the water swirling as she circled it over her
pleasure nub.  Edwin shifted, moving behind her, his mouth
lowering to her neck to kiss and suck at the sensitive skin.
 His hands lowered into the warm water, cupping her breasts
and squeezing them.  It felt strange and erotic on her slick
skin, especially as his fingers pinched her nipples and slid off of
them.  

Sensations collided, enhancing her
pleasure, and she found herself pressing the cloth harder as she
rubbed up and down.  Edwin's hands plucked and rubbed her
nipples, unable to get a firm grip thanks to the water.
 Arching her back, she found herself moaning as he sucked at
the tender skin connecting her neck to her shoulder.  Knowing
that he was watching the movements of her hand under the water, the
way the blue cloth contrasted to her golden curls as they swirled
in the currents.  

The needy itch was growing,
blossoming, and she realized that she was going to climax from
touching herself.  

Just as she reached the cusp, Edwin
suddenly released her breast, grabbing her arm and pulling it away.
 She cried out at the interruption, her body straining for the
orgasm that was just out of reach.  Leaning over her, Edwin's
mouth caught hers, stifling her distress with his kiss.  It
only made her burn more.

When he pulled away, she glared at
him.  

"Time to get out of the tub,
sweetheart," he said, giving her a knowing look.  She gritted
her teeth.

"Damn you," she cursed, as he helped
her to stand on shaky legs.  Then she cried out, shuddering as
he pinched her nipple.  The tender bud was even more sensitive
than usual, and the flash of pain had her clinging to him.
 

"Don't be naughty, Nell," he teased,
although there was a firm note in his voice that indicated he meant
what he said.  Just because she was with child didn't mean she
would be able to run amok, saying and doing whatever she wanted
without facing any consequences.  Eleanor was sure that Edwin
would prove creative if he felt the need to punish her.  She
bit her tongue against cursing him again as he helped her step out
of the tub.

Her body felt exquisitely sensitive as
he toweled her off, rubbing it briskly over her limbs and spending
more time on her breasts and between her legs.  Eleanor had
her hands pressed on his shoulders to help her keep her balance.
 She rocked her hips as his fingers slid through her slit,
trying to keep the contact.

"Edwin, pleeeease," she said, moaning
in distress when he pulled away, leaving her aching.
 

"Patience, sweetheart," he murmured,
dropping the towel down next to the tub.  He unpinned her
hair, letting it tumble down her back like a cascade of sunlight.
Sweeping her up in his arms, he carried her to the bed as she wound
her arms around his neck and peppered kisses across his shoulder.
 Her teeth scraped against his collarbone, making him shudder
slightly, and he tightened his arms around her to ensure that he
didn't accidentally let her drop even an inch.

Handling her like she was made of fine
china, he laid her down on the bed, crawling eagerly on top of her
and sliding his hands up her arms until he reached her wrists,
which he pinned down beside her head.  The soft little
whimpering noises she made in the back of her throat went straight
to his cock, which was already rock hard from watching her touch
herself.  She rocked underneath him, rubbing herself against
him, seeking to be impaled on his rod.

Eleanor's passion never failed to
inflame him, making him struggle for self-control as his wife tried
to quicken their pace.  All his experience as a rake helped,
but only so much.  He desired Eleanor like he had no other
woman in his life.  His to cherish, to protect, to love.
 It still made him chuckle to think how insistent she'd been
on hearing the words.  Not that he'd ever meant to withhold
them from her, he just hadn't realized he'd never said
them. 

After all, their love
match was the talk of the
ton
.  Every society matron was
constantly commenting on how he doted on her, the way his eyes
always followed her.  The men were well aware of his
affliction, especially the dangerous rakes and seducers.  They
might eye Eleanor from afar, but they were well aware that her
husband would be less than accommodating, and none of them had a
desire to meet him at dawn merely for flirting with her.  Or
speaking with her.  Or even looking at her.  Edwin didn't
care that he'd gained a reputation as a possessive and overly
affectionate husband.  Although he was amused that his wife
was apparently the only person who hadn't heard the
news.