Splendid (34 page)

Emma couldn't deny that it was, so she sank her hands into his thick hair, pulling him tightly against her. If she held him close enough, she decided wildly, he could never stop all these delicious things he was doing to her.

Alex smiled as his lips trailed a path down her stomach, pausing to run his tongue around the edge of her belly-button. “I think we need to do something about these damned breeches.” He undid the buttons and slowly lowered them down her legs. “Not that you don't look darling in breeches, of course, but don't think I'm going to let you out of the house dressed like that again.” With a quick tug, Emma's breeches joined her shirt and chemise on the floor, and Alex slid up the length of her so that his nose was touching hers. “I don't think anyone else needs to know just how sweetly rounded your bottom is.” As if to prove his point, he cupped her backside with his hands and gave it a squeeze, pulling her tightly against him.

“Oh my,” Emma breathed. She was now completely nude except for her unmentionables, and he felt so hot and hard against her. Timidly, she stroked the warm skin of his back, eager to explore him but unsure of what to do. “Do—do you like this?” she asked.

“Good Lord, Emma,” Alex said hoarsely. “The mere sight of you makes me want you. You have no idea what your touch does.”

Emma blushed but did not stop stroking his back, and when Alex moved to take off her last piece
of clothing, she made no attempts to stop him. “You're going to have to take off yours, too,” she said, unable to believe her own daring. “I may be new at this, but even I know it won't work with your undergarments on.”

Alex laughed out loud at that and almost blurted out how much he loved her. But he held back, not quite ready to declare his feelings before she did. Instead, he quickly rectified the problem at hand, sliding his undergarments off and covering her body with his.

Emma's heart started beating wildly as Alex's lips descended on hers. His hands seemed to be everywhere, stroking, probing, and squeezing, yet still she wanted more. Finally, his hand settled over her womanhood, and she felt herself buck up off the bed at the pleasure of his touch. Though he had caressed her there once before, and she knew what to expect, somehow everything seemed much more intimate now that they were in bed, his bare skin pressed up against her own. Suddenly she felt his forefinger enter her, and every muscle in her body tensed.

“Shhh,” he murmured. “I just want to make sure that you are ready for me. I'm bigger than my finger, and I don't want to hurt you.”

Emma relaxed slightly, and Alex continued his sensual movements, caressing her most private nub of flesh with his thumb. As pleasure shot through her, Emma could feel herself growing wet with desire and she groaned, her hips instinctively writhing beneath him.

Alex labored to keep his breathing even and steady. It was taking all of his control not to plunge into her right away and lose himself in her softness. But he was determined to make this first experience perfect for her. He knew that his
would be an empty pleasure if Emma did not also find her climax. Somewhere along the way, her happiness had become vastly more important to him than his own.

Emma felt her body arch as hot sensations streaked through her. “Alex, please,” she begged. “Please. I need you.”

Emma's stark declaration proved to be Alex's undoing, and he quickly positioned himself to enter her. “Are you ready?” he asked hoarsely. At her feverish nod, he pressed forward. Lord, but she was tight. “Shh,” he said, more to soothe himself than her. “I'm going to take it slowly. I want to give you a chance to get used to me.” With a groan that was half pleasure and half frustration, he pulled out a tiny bit and then pushed forward again, ever so slowly.

Emma was convinced at that moment that she was going to die. There was simply no way her body could take any more of the pressure that was building up inside of her. “Please,” she moaned, tossing her head from side to side. “I want—I need—” She shuddered. “Oh God, I don't know what I want!”

“Shh, darling, I do. But you're not quite ready for it yet. You're so small. I'm afraid I might hurt you.” Alex thought that there could be no greater aphrodisiac than the sight of Emma writhing in his bed, utterly consumed by passion. But still, he kept his own desire in check, forcing himself to take it slowly. And then, just when he was convinced he could restrain himself no longer, he reached her maidenhead.

“Emma?” he said, his voice rough with passion. But she was so lost in her own haze that she didn't hear him. “Darling?” he asked, a bit more loudly. She looked up at him, her eyes barely able to
focus on his face. “Darling, this may hurt you a little, but I promise you it will only be this one time.”

“What do you mean?”

Alex grimaced as he propped himself up on his elbows. Dear Lord, had no one explained this to her? “It's because you're a virgin. I have to break your maidenhead. It might hurt, but I promise that it will go away, and it won't pain you next time.”

Emma gazed at his face. He looked so concerned for her, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes a softer green than she had ever seen them. “I trust you, Alex,” she said softly, reaching up to put her arms around him.

Every last shred of self-control that Alex possessed snapped at that very moment and he surged forward. Emma let out a soft cry at the rending of her maidenhead but found that the pain was quite minimal and was soon replaced by the luxurious pleasure of Alex's insistent lovemaking. With every stroke, she felt an urgent warmth shoot through her body until suddenly it all became too much, and her entire body tensed and almost froze. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, and then finally her entire world exploded, and she collapsed, purely and utterly spent.

A spasm of white-hot need shook Alex's body as he felt her muscles clench around his manhood. The primitive rhythm of his body grew fast and frenzied, and then he plunged forward one last time, erupting with ecstasy as he poured himself into her.

Emma heard him cry out at the moment of his release, felt him collapse atop her, and as she drifted down from her own climax, she thought that she had never before felt so completely content. “I feel good,” she sighed.

Alex chuckled as he rolled off of her. “So do I, my love, so do I.”

“If I had known I was going to feel this good, I might not have kicked you out of my bedroom the day we met.”

Alex cupped her face in his hands. “It wouldn't have been this beautiful, my darling, because we hadn't come to care for each other yet.”

Emma snuggled closer to him at his tender words. Surely now he would tell her he loved her. But he didn't. She sighed. She was too happy to worry about it just yet. He couldn't have made love to her like he just had without loving her a little, could he?

They remained in that position for several minutes, Emma burrowed against Alex as he absently toyed with her hair. Finally, she tilted her face up and asked the dreaded question. “What time is it?”

Alex glanced over the top of Emma's head to the clock that sat on his nightstand. “It's nearly half past four.”

“I'll have to go home,” Emma said regretfully. Dear Lord, she hated to think about reality, but she was going to have to get home sooner or later. Preferably sooner. “The servants will be up and about any time now, and I don't want them to see me coining in. Their gossip rivals that of the
ton
, you know. If one housemaid sees me, it will be all over town by tonight.”

“Who cares?”

Emma twisted around quickly to look at him, shock and remonstration mixing in her eyes. “What do you mean, ‘who cares? ' I would rather not see my reputation dragged through the gutter, thank you very much.”

Alex gave her a rather perplexed look. “What's
this about a gutter? We'll be married by next week. In a fortnight, all the furor over a hasty marriage will have died down, and the only thing anybody will be calling us is ‘romantic. '”

An irrational knot of indignation began to blaze within Emma at his high-handedness. It was just like him to declare that they were getting married next week without even bothering to consult her. “Was that supposed to be a proposal of marriage?” she asked tightly.

Alex stared at her, dumbstruck. “We
are
going to get married, aren't we?”

“I certainly don't know. No one asked my opinion.”

“For God's sake, Emma. We have to get married now.”

“I don't have to do anything I don't want to, your grace,” Emma declared, scooting across the bed and clamping the quilt down under her arms.

“Emma,
you
asked
me
to marry you just two days ago.”

“And if you recall,” she sniffed, “you refused.”

“Hell and damnation, woman, are we going to go through that again?”

Emma didn't say anything.

“Wonderful,” Alex muttered. “This is just what I need. A female in a snit.”

“Do not speak to me that way!”

Alex's eyes flashed with arrogance. “I was not speaking to you, my dear, I was speaking about you. And if you weren't acting like such a damned fool, I'd be kissing you, instead.”

Emma jumped out of bed at his insult, taking the quilt along with her. “I don't have to stay here and listen to you defame me!” she exploded, tripping over the coverlet as she tried to pick her clothing up off the floor. Each piece had been flung aside
passionately, so she had to cross the room several times to gather it all, painfully aware of how foolish she must look as she desperately tried to keep her body covered with the heavy quilt.

Alex tried a different tactic. “Emma,” he said softly, “after all we've shared, don't you want to get married? I'll go insane if I can't hold you in my arms every night.”

“You are despicable!” Emma stormed, her cheeks pink with fury. “I cannot believe the nerve of you! How dare you try to seduce me into marrying you!”

“Well, it seemed to be working,” Alex said with a lopsided grin.

“Aaaargh! I could—I could—Oooooh!” Emma's anger had reached proportions where her vocabulary retrieval was not quite what it should be.

“Kill me? I wouldn't if I were you. It'd make a terrible mess.”

Alex's unflappable demeanor sent Emma's rage spiraling out of control. She picked up a vase and raised it over her head, getting ready to launch it at him.

“Please,” he choked. “Not the Ming vase.”

Emma lowered her arms, inspected the artifact with a discerning eye, and then placed it back down on the table. She picked up a snuffbox. “How about this?”

Alex grimaced. “Well, if you really must…”

The snuff box missed his ear by a hair's breadth.

“Destroying my belongings isn't going to solve anything,” Alex said, bounding off the bed, completely unconcerned with his nakedness. “You
will
marry me.”

“Has it ever occurred to you to ask for something rather than demand it?” she burst out furiously, trying to pull up her undergarments without drop
ping the coverlet. Her anger only grew when Alex's lips quirked with amusement at her predicament. “Oh, I beg your forgiveness, your grace,” she said, her voice dripping with ice cold sarcasm. “I forgot. A duke doesn't have to ask for anything. He doesn't have to earn anything. He can have whatever he wants. It's his due.” Emma whipped her head around as she said the last words, and she was stunned by the seething expression on Alex's face. Horrified, she took a step backwards, still clutching nervously to the blanket which shielded her from his furious gaze.

“Emma,” he said very tightly, “will you marry me?”

“No!” She could barely believe she had said it, but the word actually came out rather forcefully.

“That is it!” Alex exploded. He crossed the room in swift, angry strides and snatched the coverlet away from Emma. She desperately tried to cover herself but soon found that that wasn't really necessary, for Alex seemed intent on shoving her into her clothes. “I have had enough of your petty tantrums,” he bit out, pulling the chemise over her head. “If you wanted to prove to me that you are not a shrinking miss who can be ordered about, you can rest assured. You have done so. Now stop acting like a child and accept the inevitable. You
will
marry me, and you will do it with a smile on your face.”

Emma flashed him a sickeningly sweet grin. “Is that good enough, your grace? We wouldn't want it to get out that the great duke of Ashbourne had to force a woman to marry him.” She regretted the words the minute they flew out of her mouth, instantly aware that she had gone too far. Alex's face was a mask of barely concealed rage, and his grip on her upper arms tightened until Emma was
sure she would be bruised. “I'm sorry,” she said in a strangled voice, unable to look him in the eye.

Disgusted, Alex let go of her and crossed the room to the chair on which he had left his evening clothes a few hours earlier before crawling into bed next to Emma. With sharp, savage movements he dressed himself, and all Emma could do was stare, awed into silence by his rigid control of his temper.

When Alex finished dressing, he tossed Emma her overcoat and crossed the room to the door, giving it a vicious yank. It didn't budge, and Alex swore viciously as he remembered that he had locked it the night before.

“The key,” Emma whispered in horror. “You threw it out the window.”

He ignored her as he strode into his dressing room and disappeared. Within seconds the door to the room opened from the outside. Alex's broad shoulders nearly filled the entire doorway. “Let's go,” he said tersely.

Emma wisely chose not to rage at him about his letting her think they'd been trapped in the room the previous evening, and she lost no time in following his bidding, half afraid of his obvious, although tightly leashed, fury, half figuring that she wanted to go home anyway, so wasn't she getting what she wanted? She scrambled down the stairs and waited in the front hall while Alex woke up one of his footmen and asked that a carriage be made ready. “It will take a few minutes,” he said when he returned, silently daring her to protest the delay. “I'm afraid my household isn't used to activity at this time in the morning.”