WaltzofSeduction (4 page)

She moved closer, wanting to be near him.

“Wait,” he said.

“You’re leaving already?”

“I am just going to tend the fire. I shan’t leave unless you
ask me to.” He got up.

“I am always lonely after you leave.”

Halfway to the hearth, he stopped and turned, his dark brows
drawn tightly together. “You are?”

“Yes, especially afterward we…we…”

“Why have you never said anything?”

“I shan’t like to be a demanding wife.”

“No wife could be less demanding.” His frown deepened. “I
want to make you happy, Sara.”

“You needn’t be so kind. I-I know that you married me for my
fortune.”

Colin’s mouth dropped open. “You know this how?”

“It is simple logic. Lord Bolderdash was courting me for my
fortune as well. After I accepted you over him, he told me this.”

“He knows nothing of my heart. He is not even a friend. Why
would you trust him over your own husband?”

“You spend so little time with me. Especially of late.
Priscilla and Fran say their husbands visit their bed three or four times a
week. In the first year of their marriage it was nearly every night.” Her voice
became very small on the last few words.

“You would want me in your bed every night?”

She wouldn’t look at him.

He forgot the fire and returned to the bed. “Answer me,
Sara. Do you want me here in your bed, every night?”

“Well, yes. Even if we didn’t…you know
.
”

“I think for a time at least, if I am here, we will
definitely make love.”

“Then I shall welcome you here.”

“God, Sara.” He lowered his head and kissed her. He couldn’t
be gentle, his lips taking hers hungrily. His hands cupped her breasts,
squeezing them firmly. Desire pounded through him, animal and savage. He was
about to shock her and he couldn’t help himself. He lifted his head. “Roll over
and kneel for me.”

Sara knelt for him. It couldn’t be the proper way. It felt
wicked, forbidden. And utterly delicious. Her heart pounded in her chest while
she waited to see what he would do.

“You have the most beautiful bottom.” His voice seemed
unusually deep in the silence of the chamber.

His large hand stroked her bottom, edging between into the
crevice between her cheeks. Anticipatory tingles made her catch her breath. Her
cunt clenched and she arched her back.

His hand came down on her buttock, stinging lightly. She
gasped and jumped. A thrill chased through her. She held her breath, waiting to
see if he would do it again. He didn’t.

“Do it again,” she whispered breathily.

“You liked that?”

“Please.”

He smacked her buttock again. She moaned and arched her bottom
higher, wetter than ever. He gave her five more playful smacks. Just enough to
make her buttocks sting and tingle. He touched her. The petal soft folds were
so wet his finger slid inside easily. Her channel clutched him tightly. She was
dying to feel his cock inside her. Filling her, stretching her. She pushed
backward, rocking her hips, trying to ease the ache.

He withdrew his finger, leaving behind a devastating
emptiness. She cried out in protest.

The head of his cock touched her, velvet warmth. She tried
to arch back, to impale herself on his hardness. But he held her hips firmly,
stilling her. He eased inside slowly, inch by inch. She gripped fistfuls of the
linen sheets, crying out in need. He refused to hurry. Once impaled to the
hilt, when she felt his balls touch her mons, he withdrew. All the way out.

“No, no!” she cried.

He entered her again. Sliding slowly in. Holding her hips
still, forcing her to take him at his pace. Making her wait, drawing things out
until her need was like pain. Until she’d have promised him anything, anything
at all if he’d only give her the speed and roughness she’d begun to crave with
all her heart.

“Please, please…please fuck me,” she said.

She’d never even known she could utter such a word. Nor
remember where she had learnt it. But she no longer cared about anything but
getting relief.

He groaned, his powerful body bending over her. His warm
breath blew over her neck a moment before his lips descended. He grabbed her
hair, pulled her head back. His blue eyes were blazing in the glow of the dying
fire. His lips came down on hers, harshly. On a moan, she opened to him and his
tongue thrust deep, stroking hers in powerful sweeps that sucked her breath
away. His cock moved within her in hard, urgent strokes.

The intensity dizzied her and sent her whirling into a
firestorm of sensation. Her channel contracted over and over. Deep in her
throat, she screamed, the sound swallowed by his kiss. And then all was black.

* * * * *

Sara awoke sometime early, with the morning sunlight
filtered softly through the sheer curtains. Her heart in her throat, she looked
to the opposite pillow. Colin lay there, breathing deeply and rhythmically in
his sleep. Dark stubble shadowed his cheeks and his hair was hopelessly mussed.
She’d never seen him in that sort of disarray. The intimacy of it put a warm
humming in her heart.

He had not left her. They had made love all night and he had
remained in her bed until morning. She felt well and truly married for the
first time.

Tentatively she moved closer to his large body, seeking his
body in the chill of the early winter’s morning. He stirred, his eyelids came
open and he gazed at her with sleepy blue eyes. A lazy smile spread over his
handsome face and he reached and pulled her close. His lips touched her
forehead and then she heard his breathing deepen again.

Cozy and secure, she closed her eyes and let sleep claim
her.

* * * * *

Colin had been out of the house on business all day and now
they were alone for the first time since the morning. Sara couldn’t help her
nervous shyness. It brought to mind their courting days, when she couldn’t even
look at him without blushing and losing her tongue.

He smiled at her and handed her a glass of wine. “You best
have some of this, my lady, if we are to dance tonight.”

She took the glass. “You are still serious about this?”

“Very. I want the world to see us dancing together and know
that you are mine and mine alone.”

“But I am your wife, I daresay everyone knows I am yours.”

“It is not quite the same thing, my love.” His blue eyes
seemed to smolder with some emotion she couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t the
glitter of desire or the flare of anger. But something near a mix of the two.

She sipped at her wine, puzzling over it, all too aware of
his eyes upon her, watching her. Would he want to make love tonight as well?
Four
nights in a row? Her heart raced at the prospect. At this rate, she’d soon
be with child. Surely, she would. Hope leapt high into her throat. She wanted
to bear him a houseful of babies. All black haired and blue eyes like their
sire.

The clink of his glass on the sideboard made her jump.

“Let’s dance now,” he said, holding his hand out to her. She
put her glass down and took his hand. He touched the straps of her white lawn
nightdress. “Remove this.”

Flutters in her belly made her giddy. She giggled. “Remove
it? But I thought we were going to dance?”

“We are.” He undid the little pearl buttons. Soon the
nightdress fell in a pool at her feet. She kicked it away and it landed on a
nearby chair.

He shed his banyan. For a moment, they appraised each other,
she as avidly as he. Then, overcome with a wave of shyness, she turned away and
giggled.

He laughed, the deep and rich sound doing shameless things
inside her lower belly. His large, warm hand grasped hers and held it firm.
“Come now, let’s dance.”

Their bodies came together, closer than would ever be proper
in a ballroom. Her hand closed on his muscular shoulder and his hand touched
her bare waist. He led her around the chamber and she followed without even
having to think. It was as if they were one body, moving and twirling in
graceful motion.

But then the weight of his erection, pressing her belly,
began to distract her. She couldn’t help but rock against him, enjoying the
satin over steel feeling of him against her. Wetness flowed over the petals of
her cunny and her legs grew weak, trembling with her desire.

He kissed her and then they were moving backward. He
stopped. She opened her eyes. They were in front of her oblong mahogany-framed
mirror. Soft firelight bathed their naked bodies in a rosy glow. He held her in
front of him, large hand splayed on her belly, so dark against her paleness.

“Do you see how beautiful you are? Do you have any idea how
hard it has been for me to withhold myself from you?”

His hand moved up to cup her breast and his lips brushed the
side of her neck, his warm breath sending raptures of longing through her.
Against his tall, hard body, she looked so petite and pale. Fragile, feminine.
She had never thought of herself in those terms. She looked…desirable.

Maybe even beautiful.

“Bend forward.” His tongue flicked her earlobe.

She complied without thought, reaching back to steady
herself by holding on to his waist.

He lifted her left leg. His hardness touched her cunny,
sliding along her slickness and slipping inside that first little bit.

She gasped in surprise. They weren’t in the bed. Could they
make love like this, standing here, in front of her mirror? The sheer
wickedness of it swept through her in a dark wave of anticipation.

His hands grasped her hips and he thrust into her. All the
way inside. She looked into the mirror. His face was tightly drawn, his brows
pulled fiercely together. He pulled back then pushed forward again. She saw her
body rock with the hard thrust even as the satisfying stroke caressed her inner
walls. He pumped into her with deep yet rapid thrusts, sending such an intense
rush of sensation through her, she came quick and hard, her channel clamping
down on him over and over.

His whole body shook against hers with the furious strength
of his impending orgasm. The hot jet of his come into her channel sent her
quaking and quivering again, waves and waves of fiery joy consuming her body
and forcing from her a series of shrieks.

The sound echoed in the chamber while he supported her weak
body. His breath was like a surf against her ear.

After a time he picked her up, carried her to her dressing
room and set her down on her feet. Her hipbath waited. His thoughtfulness made
her smile. She sank down into the still warmish water with a sigh of pleasure.

He left her but soon returned, dressed again in his dark
blue velvet banyan. She arose from the tub. His eyes scanned her appreciatively
and then he wrapped her in a linen towel and briskly dried her.

“You mustn’t catch cold.” He pulled a flannel nightdress
over her head. “You must be ready for our waltz at your birthday ball.”

She pulled her arms into the nightgown, frowning. He really
intended to make her do it. Her stomach lurched. It was one thing to dance with
him alone here in their private chambers but to do so in front of all those
people frightened her. All those faces. Just waiting for her to make the least
misstep. But if this would please him, she wanted to do it.

He pulled her into his arms. “It is going to be just fine.
You shall see. And then you will never need to feel uncomfortable at a ball
again.”

Chapter Four

It was the evening of Sara‘s birthday ball. Colin paced the
front hall, waiting for her to come down.

“My lord?”

He stopped and turned. Pretty, blonde Flora stood there, her
large, round cornflower eyes full of apprehension. She’d been nervous around
him ever since the day he’d made clear in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t
looking for a convenient crumpet in his household. But today, she was wringing
her hands in that way she did when forced to impart bad news.

He smiled to set her at ease. “Well, out with it.”

“Lady Lockhart is indisposed.”

“She’s not coming down?” he asked, incredulous.

“Sorry my lord. No.”

Disappointment crashed into him. Even after all the
practice, she was still too scared to dance with him in public. After
everything they had shared, he had thought she could trust enough in him, in
their bond, to gain courage and confidence to see this through. She didn’t
believe in herself. But didn’t she know he believed in her?

He paused. How could she? Had he ever told her?

No, he hadn’t. It wasn’t done in his family. Good or bad,
they didn’t speak of their feelings. It struck him this was another
misconception. Of course he needed to tell his wife how much she meant to him,
else she would never know.

He took the stairs three at a time, then burst into her
chamber, forgetting to even knock. She was standing at her mirror.

“Sara.”

She turned. He chuckled softly.

“Oh!” She waved her fan furiously over her face. “Do you
see?”

“Yes, I do,” he said.

She looked absolutely lovely in the claret-colored gown,
with her shining honey-colored ringlets bobbing and her gray eyes lighting up
at the sight of him. She was more than lovely. She was beautiful. Except for
the angry red, raised splotches covering every inch of exposed skin.

“I have ruined everything! Oh, I am such a failure.”

He walked closer. “Shh,” he said, reaching out and taking
her into his arms. “Calm yourself.”

“But you’re bound to be disappointed in me. I can’t blame
you. You’re going to leave me.”

“I am not going anywhere.” He patted her back. “This same
thing happened the day you were presented to the queen. Don’t you remember?”

“Oh heavens… How could I forget.”

“Did I leave you then?”

“No.”

“I daresay no. I proudly presented my splotchy wife. And do
you know why?”