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The rest of the suite was equally luxurious and unusual, the exotic mirrored bathroom having a small sauna room leading off its rear, and the sitting and dining area big enough to swallow Marianne's flat in London whole. There were bowls of fresh flowers everywhere, along with the latest books, magazines, baskets of fruit and all manner of chocolates and candies.
'Well?' Marianne was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, her stunned gaze riveted on the bed, as Hudson came up behind her after tipping the bellboy. 'Some pad, eh Mrs de Sance?'
'Don't… don't call me that.' It wasn't the most tactful thing she had ever said, and she followed it immediately with, 'I'm sorry, Hudson, but I can't take this in yet' But not before she had seen the mask he normally wore to the world fall into place, covering the tenderness that had been there a moment before.
'Sure, take your time.' His voice was cold, uninterested. 'Why don't we take a shower? Individually, of course,' he added with cool sarcasm as he noticed the quick glance she flashed his way. 'And then go down for something to eat? You could eat something now, I take it?'
'Yes, I'll… I'll be quick,' she stammered nervously, the thought of a shower with Hudson still sending delicious chills down her spine.
Marianne cried in the shower; she couldn't help it, despite telling herself she had to be strong, in control. If Michael had never entered her mother's life she would be the happiest woman on the planet at this moment, she told herself wretchedly—married to the man she loved with all her heart and who—she knew—loved her.
As it was… She shut her eyes, but the scalding-hot tears continued to flow. She didn't know what to do, and that bed… Would he expect to consummate the marriage immediately? Her heart leapt and raced, her confusion increasing still more. There was nothing she wanted more, but would it make it harder for Hudson when she left, or easier? How did men view these things? She really didn't know. She sank down onto the floor of the shower, her misery swamping her along with the silky warm water.
She heard Hudson call her name, a concerned note in his voice that told her she had been in the shower far too long, and she tried to answer him but her tears strangled the words in her throat And then he was there, in the bathroom, his outline visible through the heavy plastic cubicle. He had stripped in anticipation of his own shower and was naked but for the small towel draped about his hips; that much registered as he slid back the door of the cubicle with a force that spoke of his panic.
'What the hell… ?' And then he had gathered her into his arms as the water continued to cascade over both of them, lifting her weight as easily as if she were a tiny child.
She continued to sob against the muscled warmth of his body, all her efforts to control the weeping useless, and he carried her over to the big basket chair in one corner of the room, sitting down with her on his lap and wrapping a huge fluffy bath towel around her shaking body as he held her against his chest.
'Enough, enough, my love; you are making yourself ill.' She heard him but she couldn't respond, the exhaustion and desolation of weeks, if not years, culminating in a release of emotion that was unstoppable, and she abandoned herself to the flow.
He continued to cradle her close, saying nothing more beyond soft, soothing sounds as he stroked the hair back from her forehead and hot cheeks. She cried until there were no more tears left and her misery had settled into the odd hiccuping sob as she lay spent and still in his arms.
'I have to say, in all my years of adulthood, I have never had a woman so distressed at the thought of sharing my bed.' His voice was gentle and deep, and it was meant to be playful, but she couldn't bear him thinking that and turned blindly into his chest, nuzzling her head against his throat as her arms went round his neck.
'Listen, Annie, listen.' His voice was husky but controlled. 'I don't know what's wrong, but I can wait, do you understand me? If this is anything physical, if you're frightened or you've been hurt in the past in some way, there's no need to do anything you don't want to do merely because of a ceremony and a few words spoken over us. I wanted to marry you because I want you; get that into your head. All of you—heart, soul and body—and if that means waiting until you're ready for the physical side of marriage I'll wait. There's nothing, absolutely nothing, to be scared of.'
Oh, if only he knew, she thought wretchedly. 'Hudson—'
'I mean it, Annie. Nothing can hurt you now; I won't let it.'
Marianne could feel his heart slamming against the solid wall of his chest like a sledge-hammer, the bunched muscles in his arms as he held her, while restraining her too, hard and strong.
'You don't understand.' She raised her head to look into his face, her eyes swollen and drowning pools of pain. 'It's all so complicated.' She shifted in his arms, her hands lifting to his shoulders again. 'But I do want you; I do, I do.'
'Annie… ' His voice was a groan. I want to give you time, damn it, but, holding you like this, I can't think straight.' He made to put her away from him but she clung all the tighter.
'I don't want to talk.' She lifted her mouth to his. 'I want you. I'm not frightened; I could never be frightened of you.'
'Annie, this is no game. If I start to make love to you now I shan't be able to stop; do you understand that? Hell, I've waited so long—'
'I know, I know.' His tenderness, his effort at understanding while not understanding a thing had melted the last of her resistance, and she was powerless against the flood of love and desire that was carrying her along in its
path. She wanted him, she needed him, and whether it was right or wrong this was their wedding night 'I want you, Hudson, so much. I love you so much… '
He stood up with her in his arms, the towels falling from their bodies, and as she saw their reflection in the mirrored walls she saw the huge arousal he had been trying to control. He kissed her as he carried her back into the bedroom, filling her with the thrusting taste of his tongue as he crushed her softness against him and biting her lips with tiny little nips that caused her to moan and arch in his arms as she sought greater intimacy.
When he stepped down onto the bed and sank down with her into the scented, billowy mass she opened her eyes to meet his, the expression in the smoky grey depths causing her to murmur his name lovingly. 'You're beautiful, so, so beautiful,' he whispered softly. 'Your first time should be gentle and slow, but I want you so much… '
But then, as he stretched out beside her, the control was back, his kisses tender and erotic as he touched and tasted her with a delicate sensuality that roused her to fever pitch. She couldn't believe what was happening to her body, the way his lovemaking was making her feel, so bewildered by the mounting pleasure his intimate, experienced assault was causing that time and reason stood still.
He explored every inch of her, his mouth and hands dealing a dizzyingly hot desire that expressed itself in little whimpers of frustration, the core of her becoming meltingly moist and ripe. And still he resisted the urge to take her fully, bringing her to the brink of fulfilment time and time again only to draw back at the last moment as she moved restlessly, urgently against him.
Marianne was too inexperienced to appreciate the extent of the restraint his love had placed on him as he sought to put her pleasure before his; she only knew that if the world stopped at that moment—if the universe exploded in a million tiny pieces—it wouldn't matter. All that mattered was Hudson and what his hands and mouth were doing to her.
The dusky shadows of evening were darkening the room when he at last lifted her hips up to meet the hard power of his manhood, but even then he eased his way into the tight, warm, secret place with a finesse that made his swollen fullness easy to accept. He caught her brief gasp of pain with his lips, stilling instantly and allowing her body time to adjust to the alien presence inside it, and then he began to move slowly, smoothly, his body dark and muscled against her soft fairness.
She wouldn't have believed she could experience such rhythmic, explosive rapture and not die from it, and as she began to move herself, welcoming him further, deeper, the last of Hudson's control was burnt up in the peaks of pleasure they were both experiencing.
