The Reluctant Bride (Regency Undone) (9 page)

‘You see, I told you it was effective.’

His hands made their way slowly down to the tips of her shoulders and then back up to her neck again, repeating the sweeping action and increasing the pressure until her muscles seemed to turn to water.  She had never been touched like this in her life.  Her whole body was relaxing into the wonderful rhythm he was creating and with a little sigh she found her head drifting backwards in pleasure.

‘Does it feel pleasant, Sophia?  Or perhaps I am applying too much pressure, here?  And here?’

‘N … no, it feels … very pleasant.’

‘Good.’ 

He continued his light, stroking motion up and down her skin.  His breath was warm on her neck and a frisson rippled through her as she felt his lips grazing the line of her shoulder.  To her embarrassment she moaned out loud, her neck arching to give him better access. 

She should stop him she knew - there was still so much between them that remained unresolved; yet she was going boneless beneath those hands and she recognised the sensation of desire now as it surged back into life with a rush. 

And when his hands slid beneath her arms to gently cup her breasts, she knew she was lost.

 ‘This I am quite sure will help with your headache,’ he murmured softly, beginning to mould them.  

He nuzzled the nape of her neck.  ‘Why do you torment me so, Sophia?’

‘I … I don’t mean to.’

‘I think you do.  I think you know exactly what you do to me.’

He squeezed her nipples gently, and she gave a little moan as they formed instantly into hard peaks.    

‘Off with this, I think,’ he whispered, suddenly turning her around and removing her robe in one swift action.

He looked at her burningly, his eyes glinting in the softened light of the room.  ‘Now you remove my shirt.’ 

For a moment she considered what might happen if she refused him but then her eyes dropped to the broad width of his chest and she found herself rising to her knees, her hands seeming to move of their own accord to remove first his neck-cloth and then his shirt.

‘And my breeches.’ 

His voice was hoarse, unfamiliar, and it excited her.  She could see his bulge straining through the material and she felt a sense of power that
she
could have such an affect on him.  Hardly aware of what she was doing, she trailed her fingers distractedly over the fabric, enjoying the feel of him twitching in response to her touch.

She gasped as he suddenly flipped her over and tumbled her onto the bed. 

‘
Witch,
’ he growled, fumbling with his trousers himself and lowering his body atop of hers.  For a long moment he simply lay there, staring down at her, drinking her in. Then lowering his head, he gently took taste of her lips.

It was such a gentle kiss, so much in contrast to what she had been expecting, that for a moment Sophia did not know how to respond.  His bare chest on hers was warm, and the touch of skin on skin sent an electric shock flashing through her.  Her lips quivered uncertainly beneath his but as the pressure of his mouth increased, and he rumbled soft words against her lips, she found her arms sliding around his neck – her mouth locking to his with a sweet urgency that made him groan. 

 ‘So long I’ve waited ...’
he muttered thickly. 

It was as if a floodgate had opened as he kissed her, his hands moving possessively over every inch of her soft skin and with such heat, that her body jerked wildly in response.  When his fingers drifted lower, settling in the juicy valley between her legs, she clutched at him as he teased and stroked.  

 
‘Tell me you want this too Sophia …’ 
 

As if it was someone else lying beneath him – some wanton lady of the night who lived by pleasuring men – she twisted and arched against him.  But her feverish words were anxious.

 ‘It will hurt ...’

‘For a moment only – I promise you.  Then the pain will be over and you will feel pleasure like you have never known.’

He was at her entrance, swirling gently, and she knew a moment’s fear as she felt him suddenly press harder, seeking entry. 

 ‘Kiss me,’
he muttered. 

And when she did, she found her lips drinking from his with an unquenchable thirst as slowly he began to rock from side to side on top of her.
Sensations spilled out in a volcanic rush.  The fullness of him at her entrance was driving her mad with the need to feel him filling her completely.

She pressed upwards so that the tip of him nudged further in. 
It felt so good.
  She arched feverishly higher, seeking more. 

‘Ralph,’
she muttered.

His voice was a husky rumble.  ‘What do you want, Sophia?  More of this?’ 

He increased the pressure a little more and she could barely contain herself.

‘Yes,’ she gasped.  ‘
Please … ohh!’

This as she felt him suddenly penetrate her, breaking through the barrier in one swift action that made her muscles freeze in shock. 

‘It’s all right,’ he murmured against her lips.  ‘It will pass.’ 

And incredibly it did, the stinging pain receding as they lay there, to be replaced by a sense of profound satisfaction at the feel of him buried deep within her walls.  But her contentment did not last for long.  A tingling sensation was fanning out inside her, fuelling her need for more.  She stirred restlessly beneath him, her hands sliding down to grip his buttocks - draw him into her. 

 ‘Aah, Sophie,’
he groaned.

She was so tight
and it was so hard holding back when every instinct screamed at him to ram into her over and over again and take his pleasure.  But he let her move against him at her own pace and after a while he felt her muscles soften; open up to him.  He lay there, lost in the sensation of the wonderful body encompassing him, but she was arching beneath him; rocking eagerly on the solid length filling her and he could contain himself no longer.  He looked at her lovely, abandoned face knowing that never had she looked more beautiful.  Her cheeks had taken on the soft, flushed glow of a woman being loved – a woman at one with him.  He wanted to treasure that picture forever but her writhing was tipping him over the edge.  His body was about to explode and he didn’t want that to happen before he’d shown her the pleasure to be had.  With a groan he started to move.  Carefully at first, controlling himself rigidly as he withdrew then eased carefully back into her.  But as his passion took over she began to ride with him, her soft gasps of pleasure fuelling his driving need for satisfaction.   Oh, but he was losing himself, taking her with a fierceness he couldn’t control, revelling in the fact she was meeting him stroke for stroke as he thrust more deeply. 

‘Come for me Sophia,’
he rasped, ‘Let me
see
your pleasure.’

She was clinging to him sweetly, her soft gasps getting louder as her climax approached.  He could see it building, and when finally the crescendo of pleasure exploded around her she cried out, clutching at him tightly as if she would never let him go. 

 
Ralph groaned and buried his head in her neck ... his rapid strokes pumping faster as he sought his own physical release.

‘So good,’
he rasped stunned. 
‘So good ....’

And that sound of her cry as she came; the sweet clenching of her muscles as she climaxed around him was too much.  His body shuddered as finally he spilled – exquisite spasms that he thought would never cease...

And when it was over he buried his head in her hair, his lips roaming compulsively over her moist skin - lost in the sweet wonder of her.  He had desired and made love to many women over the years, but never ... never, could he have believed he could so lose himself. 

It was a sensation that left him feeling unaccountably disconcerted.

After a few minutes he stirred, raising himself to look tenderly down at his wife.  Incredibly, the feel of her body – soft, compliant and
his
 – was stirring the heat in his loins all over again.

 ‘Are you alright, Sophia?’ he asked, brushing her lips softly with his and trying to ignore those feelings.

She was looking back at him in confusion, her face registering her total bewilderment at what had just passed between them.

‘I ... I think so,’ she whispered shyly.  ‘Is ... is it always like that?’

‘If we are very lucky it is,’ he said with a deep smile.

‘I had no idea ... I thought ... I thought ...’

She trailed her fingers wonderingly down his back, smoothing them over the outline of his taut hips.  He clenched his buttock muscles involuntarily.

‘Aah, don’t do that ...’ he growled, but already it was too late.  His thoughts dimmed as impatiently he thrust into her again ... mindlessly seeking the release that only she seemed able to give him.

 
‘Ralph!’
she screamed as each sure stroke drew those explosive sensations from her yet again.  And he let himself go … losing himself with an abandonment that was as new to him as it was to her. 

And later - for the first time ever - she turned to him of her own accord, drifting back into a peaceful sleep while he cradled her in his arms enjoying the feel of her soft warm body draped trustingly against his.

He smoothed her hair gently off her forehead and kissed her brow.  Their coupling had been like nothing he had experienced before.  It had been true
love-making
.  

A powerful emotion surged through him as he lay there looking down at her.

He loved his wife, he realised shocked. 

When had that happened?
  This was not how he had planned things.  He’d fallen in love once before and had abhorred the temporary insanity that had ensued.  He had no wish to fall into such a trap again. 

Yet he had done just that and even though he knew now beyond a doubt that Sophia was not in love with Edward Rawden, still he felt a deep unease that he comprehended only too well.  
Sophia did not reciprocate his feelings. 
It made him vulnerable in a way he’d sworn never to be to a woman again. 

Yet Sophia was nothing like Deborah.

She was spirited, yes, but she was honest and loyal and kind in a way Deborah had never been.  He could not prevent the flutter of hope that maybe there was a chance for this love to flourish if he was to handle it carefully; nurture it.

Perhaps it was down to him to show his wife that he was not the irresponsible profligate she believed him to be.  To show her that he had changed - and that now he was ready to settle down at Avalon and take up his seat in a responsible fashion.

CHAPTER EIGHT

When Sophia awoke, the early morning sun was beginning to filter through the gap in her bedroom curtains.  She felt luxuriously comfortable lying in Ralph’s arms and for a moment she lay there in wonder.  She could never have imagined such pleasures existed.  How could she have been so ill informed - got it so wrong?  It was ... it was ... she could find no words to portray the indescribable pleasure she had experienced. 

And yet - she could not prevent the thought - did it really change anything?  Ralph had still only married her so she could conceive his heirs, had still coerced her into a marriage she had not wanted; was still a wastrel who appeared to have no intention of taking his duties seriously and setting his neglected Estate to rights. 

And now he had seduced her as she had promised herself she would not let him.  And she very much feared she would be unable to resist him should he choose to do so again. 

Hesitantly, she moved her head and peeped up.  He was looking down at her, an amused expression in his clear grey eyes that made her stomach twist in her body. 

‘Good morning wife...’ he drawled.

The colour burned her cheeks as she blinked at him, trying to purge the images of only a few hours ago from her mind.    

‘Good morning,’ she responded awkwardly.

‘I trust you slept well?’

‘Perfectly well, thank you ...’

He chuckled, sliding down until his face was level with hers.  ‘I too slept enormously well, but suddenly ... I find I am very much awake ...’

‘Ralph, wait.’  Sophia put her hand to his chest to block his movement.  ‘I … I am very hungry.  I need my breakfast I think if I do not wish my … my headache to return.’

He looked at her intently and she found her gaze sliding away. 

‘By all means … if that is your desire.  Perhaps you would like me to arrange for it to be brought here to your room?’

Sophia nodded, grateful for the reprieve.  She needed time to gather her thoughts; to endeavour to make some sense of them.

‘Yes … thank you.  That would be very kind.’

He gave her a long look before he threw back the bedclothes and rose from the bed.  She could not help herself as he turned away from her.  She drank in the sight of his muscular torso as he reached for his robe, and found herself suppressing an irresistible urge to draw him back into the bed and into her arms.

After he’d gone she lay back on her pillows and closed her eyes.  Tear drops, hot and stinging prickled at her eyelids.  This was not how it was meant to be at all.  She was developing
feelings
for her husband - and every instinct told her that
that
way lay disaster.  He did not love her and now that he’d achieved his objective in consummating their marriage, he would no doubt return to his social life in London, and she would be left feeling more lonely and useless than ever.  What was she supposed to do now?

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. 

‘Do you wish me to help you get dressed now my Lady?  Mariah is bringing your breakfast up shortly.’

Sophia drew herself together, glad of the diversion.  ‘Yes please, Millie.  The blue taffeta gown, I think.'

CHAPTER NINE

The day dragged by interminably.  Sophia saw nothing of Ralph at lunch time and piqued that maybe he was avoiding her after she had refused him that morning, she declined to go down for tea in the afternoon, requesting instead to have it in her room.  She would not become dependent upon him, she vowed.  And neither would she be so
easily
seduced by him again.