“Truly?” Astonishment dropped her jaw, and she leaned forward. “I thought all lords toured the Continent, or is that an ignorant assumption?”
He couldn’t very well tell her that there hadn’t been enough money in the Blackwood coffers to fund such a trip, nor had his father been inclined to allow him to go out of sheer spite. Instead, Rafe gave a negligent shrug and sat back in his chair asif missing out on that rite of passage hadn’t bothered him in the least. “I found diversions enough here in London to occupy me.”
She tipped her head in acceptance and finally sampled the brandy he’d handed her. She savored it with obvious relish, and her appreciative moan shot straight to his cock.
“This is quite lovely,” she commented, examining the rich amber color of the drink in the firelight. Rainbows of light danced across her features, highlighting her elegant bone structure and drawing his eyes to the rebellious dark wisps of hair falling forward to graze her regal cheekbones.
“I am pleased you approve.” He watched her sip some more. “Forgive me for noticing, but you seem versed in brandy. It seems I will need to be sure our home is well-stocked with it.”
She had the good grace to blush a bit, and it made her already lovely features even more so. “It is unladylike, I know, but it is my favorite drink. Claret is off-putting, whiskey burns too strongly, I can tolerate some wine and a sip or two of champagne, but brandy—good brandy—can be delicious and complex.” She moistened her full lower lip with her tongue, and the action drew his eyes like a flash of light in darkness in a beacon of eroticism. He wanted to lick the brandy from her lips; to nibble the plump flesh and taste her sweetness. He suspected he could become far drunker from that than from the drink in his glass.
“I agree,” was all Rafe could think to say. He was so addled, his mind working only in fits and spurts. What was it about her that made him feel that way? Where he was normally so confident and composed, just sitting with her in that room was making his heart race. It must have been his lack of sex. He hadn’t gone that long without a satisfying release in at least a decade. He’d never lacked for company, and his body was completely off kilter because of it. The low ache simmering in his every muscle made its presence known with undeniable heat,and try as he might, he knew deep down that his body would not have reacted that way for just any woman. His lust growled appreciatively over the angle of her shy smile; even the timbre of her voice hummed through his veins like the headiest of substances.
Despite his inner impatience, the two of them settled into a banal conversation about the pleasantness of the day, the quality of the food, anything to lull Victoria into a state of ease. Gradually, the evening wore on, the hour grew late, his wife had finished her brandy, and the time had arrived. Already, she was more relaxed than when he’d first arrived in her chamber.
Relax, Rafe reminded himself.Relax and do what you do best. She is like any other woman; being legally bound to her does not change anything.He’d practically made an art out of making women feel desirable and giving them orgasms. It was a skill he’d long prided himself on, and he’d relished exploring new and exciting ways to share pleasure. Now, it was finally time to share that talent with his wife.
“You looked beautiful today, Victoria,” Rafe purred, intentionally using that tone when speaking her given name for the very first time. He witnessed the gesture’s intended effect in the dilation of her pupils, the slight catch in her breath. “Utterly enchanting,” he murmured.
Chapter Eight
Rafe set asidehis glass and stood. Victoria watched his every movement with wide eyes as he took her empty glass from her fingers, set it beside his, and gently tugged her to rise to her feet. He ran the back of his hand down the downy curve of her cheek, allowing it to drag lower down the lace and ribbons of her nightshift. It was impossible for him not to notice the hitch in her breathing, the rise and fall of her breasts beneath the thin fabric. Her small, puckered nipples peaked against the garment, and he imagined they were begging for his touch.
All in due time.
She smelled divine—sweet and warm. It was all he could do not to bury his face in her hair. Instead, he settled for pressing his lips to her forehead and murmured, “You are even lovelier now.” And it was the truth; Victoria had been a vision at the church, but there was something even more tantalizing about her virginal innocence, the uncharacteristic shyness in her voice and demeanor. It made him long to free her from her inhibitions and show her all the wonderful new intimacies to be had between a man and a woman. She’d been torturing him with her proximity all day, teasing him with her smile, arousing him with every one of her breathless laughs; now, it was time for him to return the favor. “That kiss following the ceremony was far from satisfying, though.” She opened her mouth to reply, but anything she would have said was silenced as his lips fell upon hers.
The time for chaste pecks and tempering his urges was long past; the dam of Rafe’s desire had broken, and he would not be the only one to drown in the deluge.
Their lips met with such force that their teeth clicked together. At first, she seemed startled and overwhelmed by his need, but she very quickly became responsive to his advances…much to Rafe’s delight. He’d caught glimpses of this fire in their one and only stolen kiss, and it was very reassuring to learn that he had not imagined the potential flame that burned within her. Though tempered by life in the public eye, this was evidence that his wife could be wholly herself behind closed doors. Uninhibited. Unencumbered. In fact, Rafe preferred this glimpse of ferocious passion. He liked his women a little wild, a little unpredictable in bed. He enjoyed both the surprise and the sport, and he was a man who was game to try most anything at least once or twice when asked nicely. He couldn’t wait to unlock her fantasies and make them their shared reality. He longed to hear from her lips all the wondrous pleasures she desired, once he provided her with a decent base of carnal knowledge, of course.
With practiced movements so subtle she hardly knew what was happening, Rafe backed her toward the bed and began undoing the fastenings of her nightshift. The fabric parted to bare the creamy flesh between her breasts but kept the globes tantalizingly hidden. The teasing would make the final revelation all the sweeter.
She must have felt the kiss of cool air because she started slightly against him, her fingers flexing in the front of his linen shirt.
“Do not be afraid,” he purred reassuringly.
Her voice was slightly tremulous when she said, “I am not.” There was shyness there, but also a great deal of bravery…and even a bit of excitement. He admired a woman with heart—especially one with such unexpected pluck and spark. And he was coming to realize that the woman he’d married was an uncharted wonder.
“Remove your nightshift and lie on the bed.” Rafe’s words were calm and even, but firm enough that there was no room for her to deny him. In fact, he strongly suspected that she liked it when he spoke to her in such a way. How thrilling, especially from a woman as untested as she was. His mind whirled with all the possibilities they might explore.
But every other thought fled his mind when she finally did as he demanded. Her eyes were locked on his as she slid one shoulder free from the gaping neckline, and then the other. Earth-toned fire glowed in her hazel eyes as she examined his reaction to each revealed inch of flesh. Her movements were deliberately slow in the way a seasoned seductress might move, and Rafe enjoyed it all the more knowing he was the first and only man to witness her (rather successful) attempts at sensuality. And then, Rafe’s heart stopped.
He’d seen more than his share of naked women in his life, some more conventionally beautiful than others, but Victoria—his wife—put them all to shame. She was lithe and graceful, long of limb, and shapely in just the right places. Her flawless porcelain skin glowed in the flickering firelight as she sat on the mattress and lay back against the deep green coverlet. The stark contrast of her body against the fabric was as striking as it was delicious. She looked soft and delicate, but her eyes spoke to him of a deep anticipation.
The gloriously unhindered view of her body made Rafe’s mouth go drier than hardtack. Her head lay in the cradle of her dark curls as she watched him from beneath the thick fans of her lashes. His eyes drifted lower to take in her slightly parted lips, puffy and still glistening from their fervent kisses. Her pulse undulated within the long column of her throat, thefragile wings of her collarbones gave way to the perfect swells of her breasts, tipped with tawny, delectably erect nipples. They were everything he’d imagined, and so much more. She had a shapely torso, simultaneously lean and feminine; graceful hips and lean, creamy thighs bracketed the downy curls guarding her sex. Her legs were honed from walking and riding; her feet were dainty and impressively delicate. His eyes drifted slowly back up the length of Victoria’s form, savoring every detail more beautiful than the last. Half of him wanted to pounce upon the tantalizing buffet she presented, but the other half just managed to maintain his composure and remembered that he had very specific plans for that evening.
It took a godlike amount of self-control for him to merely instruct his wife to roll onto her stomach rather than commit every curve of her body to memory with his hands. She flashed him an unsure glance, but she complied, nonetheless. He barely stifled a groan as the perfect globes of her rear were revealed to him. The sculpted roundness of her bottom melded into the trim curve of her waist to form the most perfect shape in all the world as far as he was concerned. His breeches had already grown uncomfortably tight, and his situation was only getting worse with each second that passed. His cock gave an insistent throb as if to underscore his dilemma.
Quickly, Rafe retrieved the small vial of scented oil he’d placed near the fire to warm. Unstoppering it, he inhaled the rich scents of patchouli and vanilla before testing its temperature on the inside of his wrist. Victoria looked at him over her naked shoulder when the mattress dipped beneath his added weight when he knelt beside her. The sight stole his breath. It did not take a great imagination to picture her looking back at him like that as he claimed her from behind…
“Relax,” Rafe rasped. “And trust me.” Dimly, he recognized it was a lot to ask in this scenario, but he knew what he was doing.He wanted only to bring her blinding pleasure, if she would allow it.
He waited with inhuman patience until she rested her cheek on her crossed arms, and finally, he tilted the vial and poured a trickle of oil onto the concave curve of her lower back. Her hips lifted reflexively at the sensation, causing him to perform a full-body shiver that he felt all the way to the root of his throbbing cock.
He set the vial aside and began long, slow strokes of her spine and shoulders, the curve of her waist and the slope of her buttocks. Gradually, Victoria melted into his ministrations, going boneless and releasing helpless little purring noises from deep in her throat. Every muscle in Rafe’s body trembled with restraint. He needed to focus on something else lest he spend in his breeches like a pathetic whelp.
He cleared his throat. “I once visited a very exclusive establishment run by a family all the way from the Ottoman Empire. It was modeled after their special bathhouses in opulent buildings where they perform these massages in steam-filled rooms.” He conveniently left out how the golden-skinned women who performed the massages rubbed their entire bodies against the recipient, and the act often culminated in wild, sweaty, oil-slicked sex… “After one experience, I convinced them to sell me some vials of their oil imported from their homeland. The scent is lovely, is it not?”
