Miller, Raine - The Undoing of a Libertine (Siren Publishing Classic) (20 page)

She felt his sex kick inside her as he held it for a time before slowing and then finally coming to a rest, his tension releasing into lax, languid limbs atop her. Georgina knew he had spilled his seed as he found his release. Then she felt a great deal more wetness.
Dear, God! That’s how it will be with him.

Wanting to give herself and be passionate in return seemed natural. This act, with him, was not unpleasant—far from it. Jeremy like this with her was meant to be. She’d felt how much he wanted her, and she would do this willingly for him because it was what he needed. There was no hurt or shame in what they’d just done. Oddly, she wanted more, but didn’t really grasp what, exactly, “more” could be.

It took a long time for Jeremy’s breathing to level out. Finally he moved off her. She knew a strange longing when he pulled himself out of her, felt the gush of his seed and her own slick fluids. The wet between her legs gave evidence of the most intimate union between a man and a woman. They were truly married now.

Jeremy kissed her forehead and brushed his thumb over her lips. “Tell me if you are well.”

“Mmmmm,” she assured, nodding against his hand that still held her face. “I am.” After another moment of quiet, she asked the question she needed answered. “Jeremy, was it—was it—are you well? I mean, was it—did I do—”

He laughed at her. “You swell my heart with your sweet inquisition. And my answer can only be yes. You were utterly perfect.” He kissed her once more. “Have no doubts about my pleasure when you are in my arms. In fact, that’s where I must have you all night long.” He adjusted her comfortably against him in anticipation of sleep. “Right here up against me.” His hand smoothed over her curved hip and pulled her to him, fusing their lower halves.

Jeremy’s words relieved her, for if she could have him next to her like this, she would feel safe and never worry. “And I wish to be.”

The three glasses of wine must have finally taken effect when she drifted off because she opened her eyes sometime later. Jeremy was warm against her, his hand settled low at her breast. And he was something else, too. Hard. Georgina could feel the ridge of his manhood pressing into her hip, and oddly, she liked the idea that his body was affected to want her again.

“How are you feeling, Gina? Tell me. I must know.”

Georgina thought about the question before answering. “I feel much cherished by you, Jeremy.”

Hearing her response must have been encouragement enough because he rolled atop her, starting the whole intimate act all over again.

She gasped in air at the thought. Thrilling, desirous feelings flooded her.
Yes! God, yes! Do it again!
There was no worry this time. Georgina knew she had nothing to fear from having Jeremy love her like this. The elation at such knowledge gave her a power she had not felt in a long, long time.

Jeremy moaned desperately. “I want you too much. I have needed you so badly, waited so long, and I cannot hold myself back from you—I can’t—I’m sorry!”

Georgina pushed at him to get his attention, “Do not be sorry. No being sorry, ever! I wish this with you. Jeremy! Ahhh…never sorrrry!”

* * * *

She said it. She wants me.

He took her again. Proving to himself he could be more gentle and controlled than he’d ever thought possible, Jeremy arrived at a blissful peace afterward. A peace such as he’d never known, content and relieved with their scents blending into the musky smells of sweat and their passion and her soft warmth folded against him.

“When I set out to bed, I want you in here with me so I can reach over and find you in the night. Every night, Gina. I want you next to me like this.”

She sighed contentedly and nestled against him, her fingers brushing over his pectoral, caressing the same spot over and over. Jeremy had never known such depth of feeling in intimacy with another person. It was strange but wonderful. Now he was the one feeling cherished. God, it was such a good feeling!

Later still, their limbs entwined, it was an easy thing to find sleep together in this first night. The mere thought of Georgina anywhere but next to him seemed unthinkable.

He didn’t make it through the whole night though. Watching his wife in her sleep, Jeremy was entranced. Dark golden hair mussed and swirling over the pillow framed her face, her neck, and the graceful hollows that smoothed into the cleavage of her breasts.

Those breasts of hers. He’d known they would be spectacular, but nothing had prepared him for the reality. They were a work of human art all on their own—creamy swells topped with dusky rose nipples that flowed out to her sides from the weight of gravity pulling on them. He could remember their taste, like pears. In the dim shadows, he could just make out the love-bites he’d sucked onto all that luscious skin.

God, she was an artist’s dream. An artist that painted nudes, he thought wryly, remembering his shock when she’d dropped her robe. The best, happiest damn shock he’d ever known.

She looked peaceful right now, but he had to wonder how she really felt about the sex. Did she submit out of duty only? Had it been pleasurable at all?

After that first part, when she came to him for a second try, she hadn’t seemed frightened or upset. Hadn’t cried or resisted him. Hell, she’d even asked him if he’d found the experience to be satisfactory, melting his heart in the process.

She might be a gentle person, but she was brave. If he understood one thing about his wife, it was that she had the heart of a lioness.

The sudden insight into what kind of mother Gina would be caused him to smile in the dark. He had made the right choice in her, for sure. This he knew without a doubt.

Jeremy also knew he hadn’t done his best work tonight, and he felt bad about that. At one point though, he thought he sensed her thrusting against him, seeking to take him deeper. He
would
do better for her next time. He would show her pleasure if it killed him. Jeremy realized his desire had simply overtaken him and he’d become lost in the need to release before he could stop himself.

It had been challenging to hold back the urge to fuck with abandon. But he’d done that at least. Jeremy understood that Gina was incapable of tolerating such treatment from him. And even though he knew regret that he wouldn’t be able to have that experience with her, the need to protect her and be a gentle lover was overriding. Gina’s well-being was more important than how he preferred to fuck.

The thought of that depraved beast ravaging her, shattering her innocence, stealing her peace, was too awful to imagine and keep his wits. One thing was certain though, when the time was right, and the opportunity presented, that foul bastard would be dispatched straight to hell, and Jeremy would enjoy doing it.
No question at all.

Chapter Eighteen

Trip no further, pretty sweeting;

Journeys end in lovers meeting…

—William Shakespeare,
Twelfth Night
(1601)

Georgina woke alone in the very early hours just before dawn. She knew he was gone because the delicious warmth of his body was missing against her skin. She couldn’t smell him either. His unique scent was already familiar to her and comforting.

The feeling of abandonment threatened to overwhelm and the urge to cry rushed up her throat, followed quickly by disgust at herself. She was sick of crying. It seemed like that was all she did around him. It
was
time to grow up and stop behaving like a child. She blinked in the dark.

He’d left though, and that didn’t make it any easier, especially after he’d told her he wanted to sleep with her the whole night.
She wanted his arms back around her, protecting her, caressing her. In Jeremy’s arms she felt very safe. Where was he? Why did he leave the bed? She tried to hold down the nasty, clinging doubt.

Remembering back to earlier, she’d called upon calm and serenity to cloak her as she prepared to do her duty to her good husband. She knew Jeremy cared for her by the way he spoke to her and treated her. She also knew he was gentle and kind, telling herself she could get through it, for him.

But what a revelation! The marriage bed was nothing like what she had imagined. She’d found him to be a careful lover, tender and sweet. When he’d put himself inside her, she had wanted it. In fact, every part of the experience had been welcome.

She felt empowered to be able to give him pleasure. Even though she knew it was a wife’s obligation, it had been wonderful to grant fulfillment to him. Was he disappointed because she wasn’t a virgin? she wondered. Where could he have gone? Should she go looking for him?

She sat up in the bed, pulling the blanket along to cover her bare skin. “Jeremy?” she called out softly.

“Sorry for waking you, sweetheart.” His voice returned to her from across the room. He was kneeling naked beside the fireplace. “The fire was low and needed stirring. I can’t have my bride awakening to a cold room on her first night at Hallborough.”

“Oh…” Relief flooded her. He hadn’t left her after all. She propped herself onto her side, taking in his splendid form, backlit from the flames. He was the epitome of male beauty, she thought, watching him boldly, feeling no small amount of pride and appreciation for the rippled chest, sculpted arms, and muscular legs. It felt a reward to know he was now
her
husband
.

Standing slowly, he walked toward her, comfortable in his nudity, his heavy sex swelling before her eyes. Jeremy was a large man all over, his burgeoning shaft no exception.

“I thought you had left to sleep…elsewhere.” Her voice came out more tremulous than she would have liked.

“I told you I’d sleep next to you, that I’d want you close so I could reach out and find you,” he responded firmly.

She nodded back at him.

“Do you want me to sleep elsewhere, Gina?” She could sense a hint of frustration in his tone.

“No!” She reached out a hand, urging him to come to her.

“What do you see when you look at me right now?”

“I—I see that you are…beautiful. To me you are a beautiful man, and I think you are wanting me again.”

“You’re right about that, my Gina. I have to be honest. You deserve as much. If I get back into bed, with you looking at me like you are right now, I cannot help—” He put his hand on his sex and stroked it. “I want to be inside you, as deep as I can go.
I want that badly, but not if I frighten you.”

Dear Christ!
His frank words sent a thrill straight to her core. She wanted him. Shaking her head, she insisted, “You’re good—good for me, never frightening. Come back to bed.” She lifted the covers, exposing her own nakedness.

He made a sound, a cry of sorts, before veritably leaping into the bed, his strong arms enfolding, drawing her breasts tightly against the hard, pulsing muscles of his chest. His skin was chilled though, from being up tending the fire, exposed and bare.

“You’re cold,” she murmured into his shoulder.

“You’re warm,” he countered. “So warm and soft and beautiful.” He kissed her deeply, plundering her mouth with his tongue. The softness and the firm pressure penetrating her mouth made her anticipate what he would do next. His hands sought hers determinedly, entwining their fingers level with her head.

She liked when he trapped her hands like that, but couldn’t fathom why she liked it. She just relished the feel of him taking charge of her body, holding her secure. Thinking was unnecessary, unwanted even. This was all about feeling and sensation and the friction of skin touching skin.

He mounted her, urging her legs apart with his knees, his sex seeking hers, instinctive in finding the way. Very wet and ready to take him in, she bent her own knees this time, loving the weight of him settling on her.

“Warm me up then,” he breathed as he thrust himself deep and slow.

“Ahhh…”