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He came to her then, and, as he lifted her into his arms, she pressed her lips to his throat with a little sigh of surrender.
He put her down on the bed, and knelt above her, wrenching his clothing apart. He kissed her once, his lips parting hers with demanding mastery, then their bodies joined in a tense, trembling silence.
Amanda had prepared herself for more pain, but there was none—only a sense of total, almost overwhelming completion. She drew him down, drew him into her ever more deeply, every sense attuned to this miracle they were making together.
Almost before she had believed it possible, she was seized, rent apart by a pleasure so intense it bordered on agony. She heard herself crying out her incoherent delight against his mouth as the spasms tore through her, then ebbed, leaving her adrift on some tideless sea of languid contentment.
For a few moments Malory lay cradling her in his arms, then he moved, withdrawing from her, and her eyes opened in panic. He laid a finger on her lips, silencing her protest, before beginning to undress, his movements urgent and rapid, his eyes never leaving her face.
When he came back into her arms, he started to kiss her very gently, his lips bestowing a tracery of magic on her face, throat and breasts.
The breath sighed between her lips, as, incredibly, she felt the hot, slow excitement begin to build in her again.
That first time, she realised, had been born of mutual desperation. This time, it would be very different. This time, she was being seduced.
Malory’s mouth travelled without haste down her body, exploring every curve and crevice, his tongue flickering fire across her tumescent nipples, circling her navel with teasing eroticism. He kissed the length of her thighs, the soft inner bend of her knee, her insteps, her pink-polished toes. Every nerve-ending she possessed seemed to be vibrating to the leisurely brush of his lips.
For the first time, she understood the words from the Marriage Service—with my body, I thee worship.
Malory was worshipping her, she realised dazedly, with a warm and tender sensuality which left her breathless. And the staggering thing was that he hadn’t yet sought any satisfaction for himself.
She tried to speak, but again he silenced her, this time with his mouth. His hands were moving on her now, caressing and arousing, and her body twisted restlessly, mutely demanding appeasement.
Malory turned suddenly on to his back, lifting her over him, drawing her down so that her body sheathed him, silk against his velvet hardness. She looked down at him, her eyes widening as she assimilated this new and devastating sensation, then an instinct she hadn’t known she possessed took over, and she began to move on him in sweet and sensuous rhythm, letting her hair swing round her love-flushed face like a scented chestnut curtain.
When, at last, he groaned in ecstasy, his head twisting on the pillow, the muscles in his throat standing out like cords, Amanda felt as if she’d been awarded the most glittering prize of all.
This time Malory didn’t try to separate from her. They lay, wrapped in each other’s arms, exchanging slow, delicious kisses, Amanda’s hands becoming more adventurous as she began to stroke and explore his body in turn.
No such thing as instant bliss, she thought languorously. How could he have denied it when he made her feel like this—when he himself could want her again, so unmistakably, and so soon?
And, as their mutual need began to build again, she stopped thinking at all.
Hours later, she woke in his arms with the grey light of morning gleaming outside the window. She lay for a while, savouring the strong, unhurried beat of his heart under her cheek. She had not, she thought drowsily, told him yet that she loved him, and that was a serious omission. But then, neither of them had spoken at all for the whole duration of that intense and passionate lovemaking.
She could always wake him now, of course, perhaps by biting him very softly and delicately on the shoulder. And then, perhaps…
She smiled to herself.
Don’t be greedy, she adjured herself self-mockingly. He deserves his sleep. And I can tell him how I feel later. After all, this is the real beginning of our marriage—of our life together.
She gave a small, happy sigh, and slept again herself.
The next time she woke, the room was filled with pale and watery sunlight. Amanda reached sleepily for Malory, her eyes flying open in startled reaction as she realised she was alone in the big bed.
She sat up, pushing her hair back, and looking at her watch. It was late, but it was Saturday, and Malory didn’t need to go to Templeton’s today, so where was he?
She’d slept, her body moulded to the curve of his. She’d wanted to wake in his arms today, of all days, and she was conscious of a stab of disapthat he’d apparently found it so easy to leave her.
