Seducing the Groom (8 page)

His gaze traveled up to meet her own, and she was looking at him with such fondness that his heart lurched in his chest.

I could love this woman
, he realized, and the splendid prospect made him smile too.

“Let me show you how it ends.”

Overflowing with unbridled joy and devotion, he began to move.

CHAPTER FOUR

Ellen was jubilant.

She was a woman now. Stephen had made her so, and she was ecstatic. Both from the loss of her much-lamented virginity, and because he had been the one to relieve her of it.

To her enormous delight, he’d awakened her—with kisses and apologies and more—and she couldn’t stop conjecturing as to whether she was in the middle of a blissful, erotic dream. She arched her pelvis, just so she could detect the pain between her legs.

His phallus was fully implanted. He’d taken her! He really had!

He lingered above her, his palms flattened on either side of her head. With each insertion, he probed exhaustively, her untried body shifting and adjusting to the novel sensations created by his entry.

The anticipation was over, her maidenhead obliterated, and she’d succeeded in bumbling through it without making a fool of herself. She was starting to adapt to his presence. Actually, his flexing was beginning to feel rather pleasant. A tingle ignited low in her belly and radiated from her womanly core to her nipples. She was becoming aroused, and considering how fervently she’d found release the first time, the second occasion—with him inside her—would be even more dynamic.

He was still clad in his robe, though it was open at the front. His arms were covered, his thighs and legs too, and she wanted him as naked as she, yearned to feast her eyes on his smooth flesh, to observe the mysteries of his delicious male torso.

“I want this thing off of you,” she told him.

“Never let it be said”—he ceased his calculated penetration—“that Lord Banbury denied a lady’s request.”

Urgent, she yanked at the garment, and he moved about, assisting her in undressing him. Shortly, the robe was dislodged, and he hovered over her, delaying, letting her look her fill.

He was magnificent. His shoulders were broad, his arms toned, his waist thin. His chest was coated with a thick matting of dark hair that dusted his nipples, then descended to his navel and downward to nest around his male parts.

Tentatively, she reached out and rested her hands on him, running across ridge and valley, sinew and muscle. The cushion of hair tickled, and she sifted through the intriguing pile, rubbed her nose in it. He laughed, a rumbling baritone that reverberated to her very pores.

He liked her handling—she could tell by his reactions—so she grew more bold, dipping down to fondle the spot where they were united, roving behind to cup his rounded, taut bottom.

Perched above her, tense and agile, he managed to suffer through her virginal journey of discovery until she decided to explore his nipples. When she took the tiny nubs between finger and thumb, she sent him over the edge upon which he’d been precariously poised.

Impatiently, he slapped her hands away. “I’ve got to come,” he said. “Now! I can’t wait.”

“What should I do?”

“Hold me tight. Don’t let go.”

“I won’t.”

She snuggled him to her bosom as he settled himself down, kissing her and trifling with her breasts. Meticulously, rhythmically, he bore into her, each encroachment spurring him nearer and nearer to the precipice.

His rise of lust fueled her own, and without warning, another stupendous orgasm swept her away.

As she’d suspected, with him inside her, it was incredibly potent, and she grasped at him, needing him as her stable point as she flew across the universe. Even in his overly incited condition, he was cognizant of her drastic plight. He enfolded her in his arms, cradling her through the tumult.

“Stephen...” she wailed, the only word that appeared to matter in the torrid location to which she’d traveled.

“You’re mine, Ellen,” he intently maintained, bewitching her with his possessiveness. “All mine.”

She discerned a voice crying out his name once more, and she vaguely recognized it as her own. Never seeming to attain the peak, she glided higher and higher, and he continued to plunge into her throughout the spiral.

He too approached the pinnacle, working himself into a frenetic dither. With no regard to her inexperienced circumstance, he’d taken her raucously. He couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t propel forcefully enough or delve deeply enough. Sweat pooled on his brow and chest; his anatomy was rigid with strain.

Pushing into her once, twice, thrice, he froze, his body stiff and unyielding. He tarried just there, his rod lusciously embedded. His climax commenced, and he twined an arm around her and clutched her to him, clenching her so fiercely that she worried he might crack one of her slender bones.

A haunting moan echoed out, and he shuddered. Far inside, his phallus was throbbing as his hot seed surged from the tip and spewed across her womb. The fiery emission gushed out again and again, his pleasure interminable, as though he couldn’t find his way to the end.

Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around him, her fingers clasping his buttocks, and she pulled him in, hugging him to her as he emptied himself.

At last, with a jolting, violent quiver raking him, he was replete. He went slack and fell onto her, crushing her into the mattress, but he didn’t feel heavy. He felt welcome, and she relished their connection and the opportunity to share such an intimate, private moment with him.

He’d held nothing back, had bared his soul, had shown her the most secret territory in his heart. The encounter had been stunning, remarkable, beyond her wildest dreams—and they had been quite tempestuous. He’d given her all that she’d pined for and more, and she was thrilled by how the assignation had progressed.

Alice had insisted that the marital act improved with repetition, that their sexual engagements would increase in satisfaction and enjoyment. If it could be this exciting, this unrestrained and exhilarating after their initial attempt, what lay in their future?

She saw years—nay, decades!—of stormy, impetuous love play as their destiny.

He’d been brutally distressed by his carnal spree. His forehead was buried in the pillow beside her; his lungs grappled for air. His heart hammered, bashing behind his ribs.

She massaged his shoulders and back and arms, easing him, helping him to regain his equilibrium. Ultimately, he heaved out a labored sigh, and his physical perturbation waned. He remained where he was, sprawled on top of her, his cherished masculine form pinning her down. The size of the unduly-large member had dwindled a bit, but as though he was already contemplating another go-round, the stiffness hadn’t totally abated.

Shutting her eyes, she let her senses soak it in, wanting to remember every detail so she’d always vividly recall every aspect of the fabulous event.

But as she dawdled, a disturbing notion occurred to her. What if he hadn’t perceived their copulation to be extraordinary? What if it had been typical of his dalliances with his numerous other paramours?

How could she learn his answer? It wasn’t as if she could simply blurt out her query. If he characterized it as exceedingly normal, she would expire from humiliation.

He stirred and kissed her cheek. She could feel him smiling, and the insight brought a smile to her own lips. He rolled onto his side, turning her with him so they were facing one another. His cock was still firmly entrenched, scarcely softened, and his hand lay on her hip, making lazy circles up and down her flank.

For a long while, they stared, and Ellen was too flustered to speak. What was a woman to say after such a miraculous meeting of body and spirit? She studied him, trying to glean a clue to his mental state, but though she’d been thoroughly apprised about him on paper from the research her father’s men had done before the wedding, she didn’t know much about him personally, and she couldn’t decipher his thoughts.

He seemed happy. Content. And intensely appeased. Yet how could she be sure?

“When you’re overwhelmed by passion, you call me Stephen.” He traced a finger across her lips. “I like that.”

She chuckled. As she’d been absurdly yearning for declarations of fondness and affection, his comment was notably diverse from what she’d been hoping to hear, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. He was conceited, pompous, haughty, impossible. And he was hers.

She was so glad!

“You’re proud that you can so easily goad me beyond my limits?” she asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Vain beast.”

He laughed again, and it was a joyous sound that made her stomach ripple with butterflies.

“You’re going to be very good for my ego,
Lady
Banbury.”

During the arduous day, she hadn’t spent much time considering her title, and he was inordinately insolent as he tossed it at her.

“Bounder,” she scolded. “I’m aware of your imperious tendencies, milord husband, and I don’t think it will hurt for you to be put in your place every so often.”

“No. I don’t think it will.”

The banter trailed off, and he persisted with assessing her, which had her acutely unnerved. She couldn’t fathom why he would. Did he wish to confide in her? To unburden himself? On what topic?

Instead, he closed the distance between them and kissed her, a sweet, chaste brush of his lips to hers. The precious gesture was so dear that tears welled into her eyes, and she hated that she would be inundated by emotion. Alice had counseled that Ellen would be affected in ways she’d never imagined, but just as he was a proud man, so was she a proud woman. She didn’t want him to see how moved she’d been by what they’d accomplished.

As he drew away, he gently probed, “Are you all right?”

“Definitely,” she contended but more tears threatened. She valiantly fought to keep them from toppling over, but one or two slipped onto her cheeks.

He rubbed them away with his thumb and kissed where they’d been. “Was I too rough?”

“No.”

He blushed, appearing as naive and unsophisticated as a young lad. “Are you positive? I am so enamored of you that I was carried away. I should have been more disciplined...I should have reined myself in...I should have...”

She cut off his litany of remonstrance. “It was marvelous, but a trifle disconcerting.”

“It can be. Especially in the beginning.”

She mustered her courage, then ventured, “Is it always like this?”

“No, my darling, Ellen. It never is.”

“Then why...?”

She couldn’t verbalize what had transpired between them. She had no terms in her vocabulary that fit, and he came to her rescue, finishing the interrogatory for her.

“Then why was it so powerful?”

“Yes.”

“We have an unusual affinity, you and I.”

“Why?” she repeated.

“I don’t know. It just happens. It’s one of life’s great mysteries.”

Alice had asserted that people could fall in love in an instant, but Ellen hadn’t believed her. Now it seemed as if he was claiming the same, that they were made for each other, that they belonged together.

He was amazed and bewildered and was inspecting her strangely, as if he hadn’t come to grips with their dramatic attraction himself.

Dare she assume that their assignation had been as profound for him as it had been for her?

Suddenly shy, which was silly in view of their nakedness and what they’d just done, she inquired, “Do you suppose we could do it again?”

“As soon as I catch my breath, you bawdy wench.” Playfully, he swatted her on the rear. “We’ll do it all night, if I can keep up with you.”

“We’ve only been acquainted for a few hours, and you’ve transformed me into a wanton.”

“Lucky me.” He delivered another swat. Then their mirth died down, and he sobered. “May I ask you a question?”

“Certainly.”

“Well, you’ve been in London for months, searching for a husband, and you’ve been introduced to so many people. I wasn’t even in the market for a wife, yet you set your sights on me, and now, here we are.” He scowled, his vexation evident. “I was just wondering. When you could have had anyone, why did you pick me?”

“I had many reasons.”

“What was the deciding factor?”

“You truly want to know?”

“Yes.”

There’d been nothing random about her choice. She was tempted to acknowledge how frequently he’d been followed, how extensively they’d examined his background and finances, how deliberately she and her father had debated the pros and cons, how long and often she and Alice had dissected his likely sexual and other manly habits, but she’d save the entire story for another day.

He was abundantly narcissistic. No sense in letting him deduce how enchanted she’d been, or how desperately she’d wanted him, or how the others had paled in comparison.

She gave him a piece of the truth. “Because you have such a cute behind.”

Incredulous, he glared at her, then he roared with laughter, shaking with merriment. He spun away from her, their bodies detaching as he flung himself onto his back to chortle uncontrollably.

When he could complete a sentence, he whirled toward her once again. “And a...a...shapely derriere was important to you?”

“Extremely.”

“And what other lofty attributes swayed you in my favor?”

“Well, you’re a randy fellow. Very lusty too.”

“Randy
and
lusty?”

She wiggled her brows in naughty invitation. “My sister persuaded me that your licentious constitution pushed you to the top of the list.”

Flabbergasted, he gulped in dismay. “You discussed my...my...lascivious propensities with your sister?”

“Incessantly.”

Groaning, he flushed to the roots of his hair and flopped onto his back once more, slinging his arm over his eyes. “I’ll never be able to face anyone in your family again.” After a brief reflection, he peeked over at her. “Wait a minute. How do you know so much about my behavior?”

“You don’t think I went into this blindly, do you?”

He rose up on his elbow. “Whatever do you mean?”