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“Sebastian—”
They laughed.
She flushed becomingly. “Please Sebastian, you speak first.”
He went over to her and handed her a glass of brandy and sat next to her. She took a tiny sip, her nose wrinkling.
“I cannot say it is palatable.” She met his regard unflinchingly. “What were you saying?”
“It is our wedding night.”
Her fingers clutched the glass in a seemingly fierce grip. “That it is.”
"I was desperate to marry you because I did not want to dally and let you slip from my grasp again. That lack of courtship makes me feel decidedly unsure how to proceed tonight." He cleared his throat, calling himself all sorts of name for what he would suggest. “Perhaps now that we are married, we should take the time to learn each other before we get to know each other carnally.”
Her sweet lips froze in a small O. it took such discipline for him not to reach for her, tug her to his chest, and kiss her.
Her eyes searched his intently. “You would do this, Sebastian?”
“Yes.” He was the biggest fool alive, for his damn cock was aching something fiercely.
“It seems a sensible proposition, but I do not want to wait,” she whispered.
Everything in Sebastian stilled. “Are you certain?” he asked, his heart pounding.
“I have no notion of what to expect, and I fear if we wait, I will be consumed with the fevered imagining of something awful.”
He couldn’t help smiling. “It isn’t awful. I daresay if it was, we’d already had a revolution on our hands."
She laughed shakily. Instead of offering a reply, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Need quaked through him. He allowed her tentative exploration, taking the glass from her and resting it on the carpet. Then he tugged her to him slowly, until she was seated on his thighs, thankfully away from his already bulging erection.
With a soft sigh, she deepened her kiss, slipping her hands around his neck. His wife tasted of brandy, strawberries, and heaven. Yes, he was certain there was nothing more divine than her flavor. He lifted his hand to her face, gently cupping her jaw, angling her for a more intimate kiss. Fanny relaxed, her lips parting, her tongue sliding against his. He groaned. She sighed. And their kiss burned.
He kissed her repeatedly, sometimes ravishing, and other times savoring her sweet taste. She grew restless, sliding down his thighs until her delightfully rounded buttocks pressed into his cock. His wife stiffened momentarily, before sinking into the heat of their embrace.
He lowered one of his hands to her knee, tugging the nightgown up to her thighs. Sebastian almost smiled when she released his shoulder to push his hand away. He changed tactic, ignoring the wet heat he wanted to explore for now. Instead, he drifted his hands up to her slender throat, his strokes slow and arousing. He pulled the collar of her nightgown low and slipped his finger below the hem of her chemise. His body swelled, hardened, every muscle taut, hot, aching. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, restraining himself when his body cried out to tumble her quick and hard.
She jerked, and he ruthlessly made his kiss wetter, deeper, and with a whimper, she surrendered, arching into his embrace. The tip of his finger touched her hardened nipple, and she squeaked into his kiss, pulling away. Her eyes were heavy-lidded with arousal, her lips red and swollen, her cheeks flushed.
Holding her aroused gaze, Sebastian pulled down her nightgown and chemise to her waist, baring her firm yet heavy breasts to his ravenous eyes. Her entire body blushed pink, and he could see that she fought not to hide her charms. He placed a hand on the small of her back and arched her to him. Her eyes widened, and she bit her lower lip.
Sebastian sucked a ripe berry nipple into his mouth. She screamed and pushed from his lap, stumbling into the sofa, yanking her nightgown over her quivering breast.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked gruffly.
She looked fevered and a little shaken. A silence filled the music room, and she swallowed hard, keeping her gaze averted. With a soft curse, he pushed away and moved toward the door, annoyed with his lack of control.
“No don’t go I…I was just startled that is all, you may continue,” she said primly, but there was a sheen of tears in the eyes she stared at him with in bewilderment.
He went over to her and stooped, so she looked down into his face. “Listen to me, Fanny. I was not considering your sensibilities. I mean you are a lady, and I am a great brute. We will wait and—"
A thoroughly horrified expression filled her eyes. “Sebastian,” she said with surprising firmness. “I am not a child. I am your wife. It was simply unexpected. I…perhaps if we go to your chambers and…and turn out the candles, I would be more comfortable in the dark.”
Genteel ladies should be loved
in the dark where we protect their sensibilities and delicacy.
That long-ago admonition from Percy swirled through his mind. The refusal hovered on his lips for Sebastian was truly unable to imagine being so repressed with his wife. He'd always been a man of strong appetites, and he wanted Fanny more than he had ever craved anything in his entire life. What she asked was so simple, yet so frightfully complicated. What if she never became comfortable with him? He hungered for his wife in the most lurid fashion, and she was such a genteel creature. Perhaps she only needs time. And he would do anything to make her comfortable, even sacrificing his own needs. “If that is your wish.”
