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“Just relax, love. I won’t move until you’ve caught your breath.”
Regan was right. It did hurt and she was left bereft because she wanted to enjoy this part of the marriage bed, but she wouldn’t if it hurt this way. He was holding himself above her and there was genuine concern on his face.
“It’ll only hurt this one time. Promise. You ready?”
Biting her lip, she nodded and tensed when he began to move again. After a few minutes her body accepted him, the pain lessened, and she began answering his slow strokes. The flame caught again, this time more intensely. Feeling the familiar storm begin to gather, she smiled up. “Oh, Kent.”
“Liking it now?”
She wanted to reply but her body was responding so feverishly no words were needed. Caught up in the whirlwind as he increased his pace, she hooked her heels over his thrusting hips, ran her hands up and down his strong arms, and knew she’d died and gone to heaven.
“Welcome to the marriage bed, Mrs.Randolph.”
His thrusts were harder, stronger, and he reached down and raised her hips without missing a beat. He threw back his head, “God, you’re so tight. I could do you all night, woman.”
And then, as his orgasm broke, he roared and stroked harder, rougher, and she didn’t care because she was coming again, too, this time with a scream, and she didn’t care if they heard her in Tucson.
In the silent aftermath, he kissed her and she ran her fingers up the sweat on his back and down his spine. He was heavy but she didn’t mind. He finally broke the seal of their bodies and rolled off and lay beside her breathing harshly. “I don’t think I’m ever letting you out of this room.”
She chuckled softly.
He studied her and she did the same to him. He asked, “Are you okay? I probably should’ve been gentler.”
“I’m fine and so were you. When can we do it again?”
He laughed, dragged her atop and they did again, and again. When the sun came up, they finally fell asleep in each other’s arms.
For the next three days, they made love, many times, ate food delivered to the door by the hotel staff, and talked about everything from the silly to the serious.
One evening while outside watching the sunset, she said, “Who would have ever thought we’d end up married to each other?”
“I know. When I first met you, you were a skinny little thing with big eyes who didn’t smile.”
“That’s because I was so terrified of you and Rhine and Jim. All men really.”
“I know.”
“You did?”
“Yes. When any of us came into a room you’d leave or stand with a piece of furniture between you and whichever man it was.”
“I thought I was prey.”
“Rhine and Eddy talked with us about you and Regan.”
Portia thought back. “I remember the day we arrived in Virginia City. It was right after Aunt Eddy was shot. When she recovered, Regan and I asked her a hundred questions. We didn’t know what marriage was and I remember to this day how appalled she looked when I asked if we were going to have to have relations with Uncle Rhine. She said no of course, but it took me a long time to actually believe her. My mother’s customers were mostly brutes, so I thought all men were that way.”
“We’re not.”
“I know,” she whispered. “When my mother sent us away, my insides felt like pieces of a broken glass and I didn’t know how I was supposed to go back together.” The memory tore open the bandage she always wore over that hurt and tears sprang to her eyes. She dashed them away. “You’d think I’d be over that by now.”
“I don’t know if you ever get over something like that.”
“You’re good for me, cowboy. I’m glad you love me.”
He hugged her tight and whispered, “Always.”
