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He pressed his mouth against the side of her throat and sucked her delicate skin. He scraped his teeth lightly where her pulse throbbed and then soothed it with his tongue. Her hand came up, and she threaded her fingers through his hair. One of his hands slowly traced a path down her ribcage, then her belly, lower… Finally, he cupped her between her legs through her skirt. She sucked in her breath but didn’t protest.
Slowly, she turned her head toward his and kissed him on the lips. She tasted so damn good, her mouth hot and welcoming. He kissed her like a hungry man would devour his first meal in days. His tongue tasting her, teasing her, daring her to kiss him back. And when her sweet tongue touched his, he felt lost.
His hand, still caressing her breast, came up over the bodice of her dress, and then he sank his fingers into the bodice. His hand touched her bare nipple, and he squeezed her soft breast. She pressed her bottom closer to his hips, her derriere deliciously grinding against his erection. That felt too good.
He growled in response. John moved his other hand lower and bunched her skirt in his fist. He was riding her skirt up higher when he heard feminine voices in the distance. He immediately remembered where they were—in her family garden, with her family just a few feet away, and guests in the drawing room.Oh, God, what am I doing?
John took his mouth from hers and immediately released her. She whimpered in protest and stumbled in surprise.
He put a steadying hand on her arm. “Someone’s coming,” he whispered.
She whirled around at that. And he was satisfied to see that her eyes were still glazed over and darkened from passion. Her lips were wet and puffy from his kisses, her neck abraded by his stubble, and one beaded nipple was peeking out of her bodice. Oh, how he wanted to take that rosy peak into his mouth and suckle it. But the voices grew louder, someone was coming closer to their hide-out. So, he re-adjusted her clothes the best he could, then took her arm, and proceeded walking toward the exit of the garden.
* * *
“All done, Miss,” Gina said as she bounced a curl dangling at Sam’s temple.
She’d dressed Sam’s hair in an intricate coiffure, leaving a couple of curls at her temples and one at the nape of her neck. Gina loved fussing with Sam’s hair. Usually, Sam took exception to spending hours in front of a looking glass. Today, however, was her wedding day.
Sam turned to a looking glass and studied her reflection carefully. She was dressed in her best lilac gown, with a low bodice and high waist. Several flowers weaved through the curls in her hair. She looked like a bride, but she didn’t feel like one.
She hadn’t seen John in several days. He’d come to see her every day at first. He touched her and kissed her at every opportunity. She’d even started to believe that he was genuinely attracted to her, but after that passionate moment in the garden, he’d disappeared.
Oh, that passionate kiss in the garden. She remembered his hands caressing her breasts, how heat pooled low in her abdomen. His hair crisp and silky under her fingers, his tongue hot and demanding in her mouth. Sam clenched her thighs in response. Just the thought of that moment gave her butterflies in the stomach.
She wondered if John was going to kiss her again tonight. Had he been as moved by that moment in the garden as she, and if so, why had he stopped visiting her? She heaved a sigh. She wished she knew what was going on in his head. She cared for him, but she failed to understand him. She wished, even more, she knew what was about to happen on her wedding night.
Sam was an intelligent woman, and she knew that marital relations did not stop at kissing. There was something more. But a lady’s education was so limited, she had no idea as to what that more was. She heard from gossip, of course, that this something involved a bed, having a man’s pants down, and a woman’s skirts up. During that wonderful moment in the garden, John had been pulling her skirts up. Was he about to do whatever it was people did, to her, in the garden? Could people even do those things out of bed?
She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. Oh, why hadn’t she paid more attention to her brothers’ crass conversations that Isabel constantly had to stifle with her looks? Of course, Isabel was unmarried and probably didn’t know much herself.
“Look at our blushing bride!” her sister called from behind her.
Sam turned around and saw Isabel studying her from the doorway. “Are you ready to go? Our brothers have probably walked a hole in the floor downstairs. They’ve been waiting for half an hour, I believe.”
Sam wanted to answer with a joke, but her stomach was tied in knots and her throat constricted. So she just smiled tightly at her sister.
“Isabel, can we have a talk before we go out there?” she finally managed to push out between her parched lips.
“Of course,” Isabel said with a frown. “Please, let us sit.”
They both perched themselves on Sam’s bed and sat in silence. Isabel was waiting for Sam to speak, but she didn’t know how to even start this conversation.
“Isabel.” Sam folded her hands on her lap and looked pleadingly at her sister. “I am worried… about the wedding night. Mama is not here, and we don’t have female relatives who could help me—”
Isabel grimaced and looked away for a moment. “I am sorry, darling, I haven’t thought… In fact, I wondered if perhaps you and John… that maybe he…” She let out a frustrated huff.
Sam just stared at her.
“You don’t know anything that’s about to happen?”
Sam shook her head. “Do you?”
Isabel looked down at her hands and picked at the tips of her gloved fingers. “I can tell you a little,” she finally said quietly. “My experience is lim—I mean, I am not married.”
Sam frowned at her sister’s choice of words.
“It is a very private experience. You might feel exposed and vulnerable. Perhaps if Ashbury is patient with you, if he’s gentle…” Isabel bit on her lip. “I am sorry, I can’t tell you more. It is going to hurt a bit, but according to gossip, it’s just the first time.”
