Happily Bedded Bliss: The Rakes of Cavendish Square (18 page)

He deepened their kisses, distracting her with such sweet pleasure that before she had time to consider, the pain began to dull. Without thinking, she wiggled closer to kiss him back, to kiss him mindlessly, and as she did, he slid in a little deeper.

His hands moved to her thighs and spread her wider, then clutched her hips and buttocks to hold her tight.

Kissing her all the while, he raised her up so that he almost pulled free, then brought her down again, forcefully and without mercy.

A sharp pain stabbed through her as she was impaled, and she cried out, aware that her maidenhead had been breached. He was lodged deep and thick within her, so close she could feel his erection throbbing against her tender inner flesh. For a moment, she wasn’t sure she could bear it, overwhelmed by the sensation, stretched beyond her capability.

Quite suddenly, he wrapped her inside his arms and rolled her over so she lay on her back beneath him. He’d
managed the change in positions without losing any of the advantage he’d gained. Taking her mouth again with his, he slid his palms under her buttocks and shifted her up and into him so that, quite improbably, he went deeper. With a hand, he urged her to lock her legs around his waist, her arms around his back.

He pulled back, nearly all the way out, then thrust in again, his movements stealing her breath. She hung on as he set up a rhythm—in and out, then in and out again.

Closing her eyes, she steeled herself to endure, knowing he needed this no matter how painful it might be. Knowing she would bear it as his wife.

But then he bent his head again to her caress her breasts with the sweetest of suction and slid his fingers between them to tease the nub of flesh that gave her such delight.

Suddenly she was straining beneath him, inviting him in rather than resisting, drawing him deep, as deep as he could go, as desire flared back to life. The pain eased, all but forgotten as pleasure took its place.

He thrust harder, faster, as she kissed him wildly and urged him on, instinctively moving her hips up to meet his own, to take everything he had to give. Time spun away, this moment all she knew, as her yearning escalated, hunger turning her wanton as she strained closer to a promised kind of bliss.

The air filled with keening cries that she scarcely recognized as her own, her body damp and shaking, need tormenting her as her blood boiled hot and her lungs labored for breath.

She held him tighter and let him lead her where he willed, giving herself to him, trusting he would see her safely to shore.

And then suddenly she was flying, breath sobbing from her throat as waves of delight burst free and spiraled outward, everywhere. With his touch, he’d promised her heaven, and he hadn’t lied.

She floated on an ocean of bliss, holding him as he claimed his own shuddering satisfaction, the heat of his release warm and wet inside her.

Then he lay quiet in her arms.

At length, he rolled away, separating himself from her. He didn’t speak as he drew the sheet up over her and left the bed.

She wanted to call him back but didn’t.

Was he leaving her? Already?

Turning her head away, she fought a sudden, inexplicable urge to cry. She missed him already and had no earthly idea why.

But to her relief he returned, a basin of water and a towel in his hands, which he set down on the night table.

He eased back the sheet again, exposing her to his eyes and the night air, which felt unexpectedly cool. Vividly aware of her nakedness and her puckered nipples, she covered her breasts with her arms.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice raspy. “You are beautiful, every inch of you. Don’t ever hide yourself from me, particularly when we are alone. Never when we are together in our bed. Is that understood?”

She nodded and slowly lowered her arms to her sides.

After saturating the cloth in the water, he wrung it out, then laid it up high between her thighs. It stung for a moment, then began to soothe some of the soreness from her intimate flesh.

She gasped as she caught sight of the sheets for the first time. Blood was smeared across the white cotton and over her thighs as well. Gabriel was bloody as well, his flaccid shaft coated in the remains of her maidenhead.

“I’ll wash after I’ve seen to you,” he said, noticing the direction of her glance.

To her surprise, his shaft stirred under her gaze, as he grew partially aroused from nothing more than a look.

He rinsed and wrung out the cloth, then applied it
to her again. “Don’t worry. I know you’re sore. I won’t take you again tonight.”

She noticed he didn’t say anything about tomorrow.

Then again, if he pleasured her as thoroughly as he had tonight, she knew she wouldn’t mind, even if a little discomfort was involved.

No wonder he had women throwing themselves at him. She better understood now the whispered comments she’d overheard about him in London. Realized why he was so successful at luring even the most virtuous of females into his bed. For once they had a taste of Gabriel Landsdowne, why would they ever want any other man?

Yet he was
her
husband, not theirs.

But would he cleave to his pledge to be faithful to her? Or would he grow bored once the novelty wore off and his interests turned elsewhere?

She closed her eyes, not wanting to think of all the reasons why she would never be enough.

When he’d finished wiping away her virgin’s blood, he dried her, then carried the basin with its pink-tinged water over to the slop.

Pouring clean water for himself, he washed and dried himself as well.

Naked and clearly unashamed of it, he padded back to the bed and slid in next to her.

“Sleep,” he commanded as he tucked her close to his side, one long arm slung over her shoulder. He curved a hand around her right breast and drifted off.

She shifted into a more comfortable position and felt him tighten his hold on her.

He was possessive, she realized, even in his sleep.

She knew he’d had carnal relations with a great many women, but had he ever actually loved one? And if he had, could he ever do so again?

Not that she wanted him to. Theirs was not a love match, whatever rumors to that effect her family was
determined to circulate. So long as she and Northcote got along without quarreling, she would be satisfied.

Wouldn’t she?

Frowning, she sighed and forced her eyes closed. She wouldn’t sleep—she was far too keyed up—but she could doze a bit.

Less than a minute later, sleep overtook her.

“W
hat would you like to do today?” Gabriel asked over a late breakfast the next morning.

She looked up from her plate of eggs and toast and peered across the table at him. He sat relaxed in his chair, a cup of hot black coffee cradled in one hand. He seemed in fine spirits for a change; the result, she presumed, of a night of good sex and good sleep.

As for herself, she was still trying to adjust to the new intimacy in their relationship. Every time she remembered the night just past, a flush would creep into her cheeks. The reaction was only made worse by the residual tenderness between her legs, which served as a constant reminder of how it had felt to have him inside her.

If only he wouldn’t look at her as if he were remembering their night together too and couldn’t wait to take her again. He made her feel all tingly and self-conscious—and yes, desirous. The tips of her breasts ached, both from fresh need as well as from all the attention he’d lavished upon them last night. Worse, they were puckered up as hard as a pair of unripe berries beneath her bodice. More than once, she’d caught him looking at her breasts, then smiling up at her with knowing eyes and a silent laugh.

Jesu, but the man is a devil.

At least he hadn’t pressed her to have sex again this morning, even though she knew he would have enjoyed another romp. But he’d been amazingly considerate on that score, though she couldn’t claim he’d been gentlemanly, considering the way he’d embarrassed her earlier in front of Mrs. Canby.

“See to it a hot bath is drawn up for Lady Northcote.”

“Of course, my lord,” the housekeeper had said. “I’ll prepare it myself.”

“Good. And be sure to put in a healthy measure of Epsom salts. Her ladyship has reason to be sore this morn.”

Esme had wanted to cuff him then and there, especially when he’d noticed the high color in her cheeks and grinned at her obvious embarrassment.

“It’s nothing she won’t know about anyway, given the bloody state of the sheets,” he’d said as soon as they were alone.

“Perhaps, but you didn’t have to make such an effort to point it out.”

“I only had your well-being in mind. Besides, I’m pretty certain the Canbys know we’re having sex. I suspect the bigger surprise is finding out that we didn’t consummate until last night.”

She laid her hands on her flaming cheeks and groaned.

With a laugh, he’d pulled her into his arms and kissed her until she forgot all about being embarrassed. Had it not been for her soreness, she knew he would have tumbled her straight back into bed and taken her again, regardless of anything the servants might have thought.

Picking up her teacup, she took a drink, grateful to find the tea cool enough not to scald. “I don’t know. What is there to do here in Cornwall?”

“Well, we’re not visiting the neighbors; that’s for certain. And they should have sense enough to know we’re on our honeymoon and stay away.”

“Gabriel,” she admonished softly. Though truth be known, she had no more interest in entertaining company than he.

“I could take you into town to shop,” he suggested.

She shook her head. “No, not today.”

“Ah, but I forget. You probably like shopping as little as you do clothes.”

“I said I don’t follow
fashion
. I didn’t say I don’t like clothes. Or shopping.”

“I beg pardon, my dear, and stand corrected,” he answered solemnly.

But she could tell he was teasing her. Her pulse beat a fraction faster, her stomach jittering. She rather liked this new, more cheerful Gabriel. She wondered how long he would remain.

He took a drink of his coffee. “What about a walk? There’s a fine view along the sea cliffs and a gentle path that winds down to the beach not too far from here. It’s all rather picturesque, presuming you enjoy that sort of thing.”

“Oh yes, a walk sounds like the very thing. And Burr could do with a run.”

At the sound of his name, Burr lifted his head from where he lounged underneath the table—no doubt hoping for a scrap or two despite the ample breakfast he’d already consumed.

“Ah yes, Burr. He is, of course, welcome to come along.”

“I’ll just go and get my hat, shall I?” she said with sudden enthusiasm.

“Don’t you want to finish your breakfast first?”

She glanced down at the eggs and toast left on her plate, suddenly aware that she was still hungry. “Oh, I suppose you’re right.”

Reaching for her fork, she ate most of the eggs and a slice of buttered toast, then washed it all down with the tea left in her cup.

Gabriel laughed at her indecorous haste.

“Don’t ever tell Mama you saw me do that,” she warned him as she laid down her fork again and got to her feet.

“Never. Your secret is safe with me.”

She smiled and wondered suddenly if she might enjoy this time with him after all.

•   •   •

Gabriel watched her go, her dog at her heels as they raced up the stairs.

What a child she can be sometimes,
he thought, smiling again at her uninhibited display of enthusiasm as he poured himself a bit more coffee.

Of course, she had been anything but childlike in bed last night, her responses passionate and eager in spite of her initial trepidation. Once he’d managed to overcome her virginal fears, she had turned willing and warm in his arms, becoming as sensual and seductive as a siren of ancient myth. She might be shy and untutored, but she wasn’t cold.

No, after last night, he knew there wasn’t a cold bone in her entire luscious body.

With the proper instruction, she was going to make an excellent lover, and he looked forward to teaching her. In fact, he would have enjoyed nothing more than spending the entire day in bed with her, but he wasn’t a monster. He knew she was sore and needed rest after his vigorous rending of her maidenhead.

God, she was tight,
he thought, tighter than any woman he’d had in recent memory. Perhaps tighter than any woman he’d had
ever
. Then again, his tastes never had run to virgins, so he supposed there was that point to consider.

Still, Esme was unique, nothing short of extraordinary.

Beautiful and sweet-tempered and
mine.

All mine.

His shaft turned hard despite the satisfaction he’d found with her last night. He cursed softly under his breath, well aware he would have to resist his more prurient impulses for a little while longer.

But after that . . .

Suddenly she was back, attired in a lovely green walking dress and a long silvery gray cloak. A pert little bonnet sat perched atop her silky dark hair, the matching green ribbon tied neatly at her chin. As for her shoes, he noticed that she’d opted for a pair of sensible
brown half boots that looked as if they were well broken in. Most women would have chosen a pair of high heels because of how pretty they looked in spite of their unsuitability for cliff walking.

But not his Esme. As she’d told him, she was no slave to fashion.

He found he approved—and not just of her footwear.

Pushing his chair back from the table, he rose and went to her, taking her hands. “You look beautiful.”

She smiled, a measure of her shyness returning. “It is only a walking dress.”

“Yes, but it is you who are wearing it.”

Unable to resist, he slid his arms beneath her cloak, placed his palms on her bottom and pulled her close. She gave a sharp little inhalation as he pressed her up against the erection he made no effort to hide.

With her wrapped tight inside his arms, he took her mouth, hungry and claiming. She trembled, then kissed him back, opening her mouth to accept his demands as she made tentative demands of her own.

For a second, he considered going back on his promise and carrying her upstairs for a thorough tupping. She could spend the whole day in bed getting acclimated to the sensation of having him buried deep inside her.

But he knew she wasn’t ready again yet, so he broke their kiss, his lungs laboring in a way he didn’t often feel. “We should go.” He set her away from him. “I find I could do with that walk.”

She looked at him, breathless and flushed. “Yes, me too.”

And then she laughed, a high, pure sound that went straight to his heart.

Scowling, he strode out into the hall to find his coat.

•   •   •

The wind ruffled Esme’s cloak and skirts as Gabriel helped her down the rocky path to the beach. The ocean stretched beyond like a gleaming jewel, waves crashing
to shore with dollops of frothy white on top. She breathed in the cool, refreshing air, savoring its salty scent.

“I’m relieved to know that I didn’t lie to Mallory after all,” she remarked as they reached the flat, sandy beach and began to stroll arm in arm.

Burr, who was in his element, let out a happy bark and raced ahead, stopping every so often to sniff at some interesting find.

Gabriel arched a brow. “Lie to her in what regard?”

“About Highhaven being near the shore. I said I was looking forward to spending time at the ocean, and to my delight, I find that I am.”

“So you like it?” he asked after a slight pause. “You are not sorry I brought you here?”

“No. Why would I be sorry?” She sent him a look of surprise.

“Well, there are some ladies who might find this area remote and confining, with a lack of amusements to keep them entertained.”

She made a dismissive noise. “Those ladies are not me, as I am continually telling you. In fact, the next time we come here, I shall bring along my paints and paper. I would love to spend a day drawing the cliffs and the shoreline. It’s quite majestic.”

“Then we shall do exactly that. And perhaps if the weather is clement, I could strip off for you again and stretch out naked on the beach.”

Her eyes widened for an instant before she gave him a shy smile. “Yes, perhaps you could.”

Laughing, he stopped and pulled her into his arms, then found her lips for a long and very thorough kiss.

Her head was spinning by the time he let her go, her legs weak and a little wobbly as they resumed their walk. It was a good thing he’d taken hold of her arm again or else she feared she might have collapsed onto the sand.

“Are you hungry?” he asked a short while later. “Mrs. Canby packed us a couple sandwiches and
slipped them into my coat pocket just as we were leaving.”

It hadn’t been much more than an hour since they’d left the house, but even as she opened her mouth to refuse, she was surprised to realize that she was hungry.

Ravenous actually.

No doubt the result of a light dinner and breakfast and loads of fresh air and exercise. As for the kind of exercise, she forced herself to focus on their walk rather than everything they’d done in bed last night.

“I could do with a bite, if you could,” she agreed.

He led her over to a large flat rock and helped her get comfortably settled before he took a seat next to her.

“Ham and cheese with mustard,” he said as he checked the first cloth-wrapped sandwich. “Let us see what else she packed. Ah good, this one must be for you. Cheese and chutney.” He passed her the second sandwich, then opened his own and took a bite.

They ate in companionable silence, content to watch the rhythmic undulation of the waves and Burr’s antics as he splashed through the water, barking and chasing birds.

He padded up to them when she was nearly finished, his fur wet and sand covered, tail wagging happily. She’d eaten as much as she wanted, so she tossed him the uneaten portion of her sandwich. He wolfed it down eagerly, then stretched and gave a full body shake.

Water went everywhere.

She squealed and raised her arms to avoid the droplets but got doused anyway. “Oh, Burr,” she complained.

But he just gave her an unrepentant doggy grin, then settled down to rest.

Beside her, Gabriel chuckled and brushed off a few droplets of his own. He reached into the interior pocket of his coat and withdrew a handkerchief. “Here, allow me.”

Gently Gabriel blotted the moisture from her cheeks and forehead and a damp spot at the base of her throat. He watched her pulse speed faster, beating visibly underneath her skin.

Reaching out, he touched the tip of one finger to a small purple bruise that lay just below the edge of her collar. “It would appear that I’ve marked you.”

“Oh.” She started to lift a hand to the spot but let it fall back in her lap. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“I am glad. But perhaps it needs a bit more soothing.” Leaning close, he placed his lips lightly on the mark and kissed her ever so tenderly before running his tongue over her flesh.

She shivered and closed her eyes.

•   •   •

Taking care, Gabriel scattered kisses over her throat and along the fine curve of her jaw. He moved upward to her ear, then lingered to tease its curved shell and the ultra-sensitive flesh just behind her lobe. Kissing her all the while, he covered one breast with his palm and searched out her nipple where it hid pebble hard beneath her gown and stays. He’d noticed her pert little nubs outlined beneath her dress at breakfast and had been pleased to know that she was as aware of him as he was of her.

When they’d left the house, he hadn’t planned to seduce her, but suddenly he had to have her—at least some small bit of her, anyway. Their coupling last night, rather than appeasing him, seemed only to have increased his appetite. Maybe his hunger stemmed from the weeks of abstinence he’d endured prior to their wedding, but whatever the cause, he wanted her now.

“Lie back,” he murmured against her lips.

“What?”

“Lie back. There’s room without me if you’re careful.”

“But why? What are you doing to do?”

He gave her a lascivious grin.

“But we can’t,” she said in shocked tones. “Not here, out in the open.”

“This is my land. No one will see us.”

“But what if they do?”

“Then they’ll get an eyeful, won’t they?”

She frowned, considering. “Still, shouldn’t we go home if we’re going to—” She circled a hand to finish the unspoken part of her sentence.

He shook his head. “No, I want you now. Besides, I’m only going to pleasure you a little, like I did last night.”