Too Far to Whisper (29 page)

Rosalind’s eyes grew wide and her mouth flew open in a cry of pain, which Shadow swiftly silenced with a scorching kiss. She pressed her palms against his chest and made a frantic attempt to push him away, to remove the pain. Not wishing to cause her any additional discomfort, Shadow held his body rigid and unmoving, allowing her time to adjust to the feel of him inside her.

At first, Rosalind felt helplessly impaled. She held her breath as the searing pain tore at her insides, and silently cursed herself for having so hastily brought such discomfort upon herself. The feeling was not at all what she had imagined it would be. She was certain she had been irreparably torn apart. What in God’s name, she wondered, had she done? Was this her punishment for committing a sin and compromising her morals? As tears of shame and pain spilled from her eyes, she willed the bed to open up and swallow her. Never would she be able to face Shadow again. Never.

Undaunted, Shadow continued to kiss her, his tongue rubbing tantalizingly against hers, his breath hot against her lips. He remained deeply imbedded in her, but still he did not move his body, for which Rosalind was grateful. Slowly, Shadow’s hand slid down to her right breast, his fingers gently rubbing it as his tongue stroked the inside of her mouth.

Gradually, and much to Rosalind’s surprise, her desire began to return. She could not comprehend the tiny chills that began to run along the length of her spine, nor the throbbing sensation she felt between her legs when Shadows fingers rubbed her breast. Cautiously, she moved her hips, fully expecting to experience another stab of pain, but was both relieved and pleased to discover that most of her initial discomfort had subsided. She moved again, this time with less trepidation, and found herself actually deriving some pleasure from the feeling.

Although Rosalind’s movement beneath him was slight, Shadow was encouraged by it. He tore his mouth from hers and searched her face expectantly.  “Now?” he whispered.

Rosalind’s nod was barely perceptible. She reached up with trembling fingers to brush his long, thick hair back over his shoulders, her blue eyes, glazed with a combination of fear and desire, caressing his face. He began to move then, his strokes long and slow. Rosalind held her breath as her body began to respond on its own, as if she no longer possessed control of its actions.  Her hips rose to meet each of his thrusts, the pain of only minutes ago now but a distant memory. She clung to Shadow, her breasts rubbing against his chest, her legs moving up to clasp his hips. She closed her eyes, concentrating only of the feel of him inside her, swelling, throbbing, filling her, bridging them together as one. Never did she want it to end.

All too soon, Shadow’s slow, sensual movements began to frustrate her. She craved more, much more. In a far corner of her mind she recalled Abigail’s words about women who enjoyed forceful men in bed, and she could not help but wonder if she might be one of those women.

“Please,” Rosalind swallowed her pride to breathlessly whisper to Shadow, “do not hold back.”

Shadow eagerly complied, increasing the speed and force of his thrusts. Rosalind cried out in undisguised pleasure as again and again he sank into the very depths of her. Greedily she met each thrust, arching her back high off the bed in an effort to more easily accommodate the full length of him.

Rosalind did not understand the intense feelings that were building inside her. Everything that was occurring was so new, so unknown to her, her emotions leapt from exhilaration to sheer terror. She feared she might very well explode if the increasing sense of pressure within her was not soon relieved.

Without warning, Rosalind’s body suddenly tensed and wave after wave of the most incredible sensations she had ever felt – ever could possibly have imagined – rippled through her. Her long, slender legs jerked, squeezing Shadow between them. Gasping for breath, her eyes glassy and unseeing, as her body spasmed, Rosalind raked her fingernails down the length of Shadow’s back. She dug her heels into the hollows of his buttocks and pulled him hard against her, determined to hold him there for as long as possible, not allowing him to withdraw from her again.

Almost immediately, Shadow’s body stiffened and he groaned, a low, guttural moan, as he spilled his seed into her. Rosalind felt her inner walls still spasming, as if hungrily attempting to squeeze every last drop from him.

Exhausted from the tension of having held back his release for so long, Shadow collapsed on top of Rosalind, his heart pounding wildly against her breast. The two of them lay there for several minutes, neither one speaking or moving, their breathing labored, until Shadow rolled onto his back, drawing Rosalind with him. She snuggled against him, her head resting on his chest.

“I am sorry if I hurt you, little one,” he murmured, smoothing her damp hair from her face. “Believe me, it will be much better, much easier for you, after this.”

Rosalind shook her head. “I have no one to blame for my pain but myself. You were wonderful, Shadow…
it
was wonderful.” Her hand traveled down the flat, solid plane of his stomach as she added in a somewhat awed whisper. “We are truly one now, in every sense of the word…and no one ever can take that away from us.”

* * * * *

Rosalind awoke early the next morn and for a moment, thought everything that had occurred the night before had been a dream. She turned her head and saw Shadow lying beside her, his arm flung across her waist, his thick ebony hair spread out across the pillow, his long lashes resting on his high cheekbones as he slept.  He had not covered himself with the quilt, and Rosalind’s eyes swept over his naked body.

“Dear Lord!” she whispered, pulling up the quilt to cover her naked breasts. “I did not dream it!  It really did happen!” She clamped her eyes shut in attempt to blot out the memory of the intimacy she and Shadow had shared only a few hours before. How, she wondered, could she have behaved so wantonly with a man to whom she was not even wed? And how could she possibly bear to face him in the daylight after the shameless way she had encouraged him to bed her?
I am no better than one of Nathaniel’s trollops!

Shadow stirred, causing Rosalind to freeze in panic. She prayed he would not awaken – not yet. She was not prepared to face him…and perhaps never would be.

Shadow’s eyelids flickered open and his sleepy gaze immediately settled on her. “Good morning, my love,” he whispered, rolling over onto his side so he could deliver a kiss to her bare shoulder. “Did you sleep well?”

“Quite.” She tugged at the quilt until it was up to her chin. She wanted to prevent him from kissing her shoulder, or anything else, again.

Shadow rose up onto one elbow and gazed down at her. “Rosalind, what is wrong? Have you pain this morning?”

“I am fine,” she said. She turned her head away from him.

Shadow’s hand reached over to grasp her chin and force her to look at him. “Tell me what troubles you,” he demanded.

Rosalind closed her eyes so she would not have to look at him as she choked out, “I-I am ashamed of what occurred…of what we did together…in this bed last night. Please, grant me the favor of going downstairs posthaste, for I do not wish to face you now…perhaps not ever.”

When Shadow neither moved nor responded, she hesitantly opened her eyes. The anger she witnessed in his expression startled her.

He leaned close to her face, his hand still gripping her. “What we did last night was an act of love, not lust,” he said evenly. “And our love is nothing of which we should be ashamed.” His eyes narrowed. “Or
is
it?”

“Of course not!” Rosalind responded. “I love you, Shadow, more than I ever believed was possible!” With trembling fingers, she gently touched the strong hand that held her chin. “But what we did last night was a sin…a sin that cannot be undone.”

“It is only a sin if you make it so,” he said. “Please, do not attempt to turn something that was so right into something ugly. I know that deep in your heart you do not regret anything that occurred between us.”

Rosalind stared at him with wide, uncertain eyes.  He was right. She could not deny that what they had shared had been wonderful, nor could she deny that she had wanted Shadow as much as he had wanted her. The act had been tender and loving, and he had been patient, unlike her own brother, who had admitted he had leapt right onto poor Faith on their wedding night without allowing her any time to prepare for him to enter her. Rosalind winced at the thought. She had been more than prepared when Shadow tore her maidenhead, yet it still had been painful. Poor Faith, she thought. No wonder she had not been eager to be touched again the morning after the wedding.

Rosalind spared Shadow a shaky smile. “You speak the truth,” she said. “Our love is so strong, how can anything we share…anything we
both
want, be wrong? Truth be told, what occurred between us last night was something I have longed for since our very first kiss.”

Shadow’s serious expression transformed into a slight smile, his eyes suddenly teasing. “I suspected as much, Mistress Chandler, even
before
our first kiss…the day that Nathaniel first introduced us and you so boldly eyed my breeches!”

Rosalind’s mouth fell open in feigned outrage. Chuckling, Shadow leaned to kiss her, but just as their lips were about to meet, Rosalind abruptly pulled away. “Ben!” she gasped. “He will be arriving home at any moment!  He cannot find us up here together… like this!” She sat up, unintentionally allowing the quilt to fall to her waist. Shadow’s dark gaze instantly dropped to appreciatively eye her breasts.

“If you insist upon tempting me with your naked charms,” he said huskily, his index finger moving up to trace a circle around her nipple, “I fear your brother shall be in for a shock when he arrives home.”

Shadow’s taunting fingertip caused Rosalind to suck in her breath as her nipple hardened beneath his touch. Scowling at him, she threw back the quilt and climbed out of bed. Shadow lay back, his hands clasped behind his head, and watched her in amusement as she hastily donned her garments. She presented her back to him, allowing him an enticing view of her shapely backside. The mere sight of her smooth, flawless skin in the golden light of the early morn, caused his loins to ache with desire. If it were possible, he thought, he would be content to spend the entire day locked in this chamber with her – no food, no drink – only their lovemaking to sate him.

After Rosalind had slipped into a shapeless blue dress, tied a white apron around her waist and tucked her hair beneath a white cap, she turned to face Shadow. “There! Now I look presentable!”

“Not in my opinion.” He shook his head. “I much prefer you wearing nothing at all.”

Unable to contain her smile, Rosalind moved toward the bed, fully intending to grab one of the pillows and playfully hit him with it. But as she leaned to reach for the pillow, she gasped, her eyes widening in horror.

Shadow sat up. “What is it?”

“There is blood on the bed!” she answered, pointing at the stain. “How on earth will I explain this to my brother? There is no time to wash the bedding and dry it ere his return!”

Sighing with obvious relief, Shadow lay back against the pillow and smiled at her. “
Now
do you believe I did not have my way with you in the blizzard six years ago?”

Rosalind frowned at him. ‘Why are you smiling? This is serious, Shadow! How do you propose I explain this to Ben?”

Shadow folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “My sweet Rosalind,” he said, “are you not like other women?”

She only stared at him.

“Do you not bleed with each cycle of the moon?”

Rosalind’s cheeks colored at his bold question. “Of course I do.” Her puzzled expression lingered only a moment before a look of sudden realization crossed her face. “Why did I not think of that? That is how I shall explain the blood!”

“You may thank me,” Shadow teased, looking smug, “with a kiss.”

Giggling with relief, Rosalind climbed onto the bed and threw her arms around Shadow’s neck. She intended to give him no more than an appreciative peck, but Shadow drew her to him, his mouth hungrily covering hers in a kiss so passionate, the heat of it nearly scorched her lips. Breathless, Rosalind broke away from him and stood up.

“You must get dressed, she said, though in truth, she longed to shed her own garments and spend the day in bed with him. She could not bear the thought of being away from Shadow, not for even a second.

Shadow yawned and stretched, the muscles on his arms and chest bulging tantalizingly as he did. “I suppose I have little choice other than to get up and play the innocent,” he said. “I do not want Ben to suspect what took place here last night. My untimely death may then become fact!”

Casting him a look of mock annoyance, Rosalind announced, “I shall be downstairs preparing breakfast. When may I expect you?”

“Directly,” he responded. He got out of bed and stood, exposing the full length of his naked body to her. Rosalind’s eyes inadvertently dropped to the part of his anatomy that had given her so much pain…but oh, so much pleasure…the night before. “Do not be too long,” she said, looking away from him. She then disappeared down the stairs.

Chuckling, Shadow scratched his head. Sweet Rosalind, he thought…so unpredictable. One moment she was as shy and innocent as a young girl, and the next, as passionate and fiery as a worldly woman. It was no wonder he loved her so intensely.