Blessed Beginnings (Hunter's Ridge Book 4) (28 page)

 

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

The door was opened even before the newlyweds made it up the stairs. Wilma Harris, Samuel's housekeeper, was smiling as she stepped aside to allow the groom to carry his bride across the threshold. "Congratulations and welcome home."

"Thank you," Franny said, her face flushed as she spoke while being held in her husband's arms.

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Harris," Samuel said. "Have Franny's things arrived?"

"Yes, sir. Everything has been unpacked and put away, though I must say there wasn't much."

Samuel chuckled. "I assure you there will be more. I just didn't give the poor girl time to pack."

"Ah, that's perfectly understandable. May I take your cloak and coat?"

"Yes," Samuel said, and looked down when his wife giggled.

"I think you are going to have to put me down first." She giggled again when he looked surprised as he realized he was still holding her.

"I suppose I must," he said and set her onto her feet, bending to kiss her cheek before unfastening the toggle that held her cloak together at her throat. He passed it to Wilma and then shrugged out of his coat, again passing it over.

Franny suddenly had no idea what to do. She'd been in the house several times during their courtship, and none of the staff were strangers to her. And yet, even though she was now wed and truly belonged, she felt like an interloper; an outsider with a sudden desire to be in familiar surroundings. As if able to sense her sudden unease, her husband wrapped his arms around her and drew her to him.

"Relax, little one. There is no need to be nervous."

"I-I'm not," Franny countered, not wishing to have the housekeeper inform the staff that Mr. Benedict's bride appeared ready to dart out the front door.

Samuel bent down to whisper close to her ear. "I can feel you trembling. I promise you have no reason to be frightened. This is no longer just my home. This is your home, our home." His breath was warm as he spoke, puffs of air causing her skin to break out into gooseflesh. Instead of reassuring her, thoughts of what awaited had her trembling more.

"Shall we go say goodnight to Sadie?" he suggested, and she latched onto his offer as if grasping on to a lifeboat out at sea.

"I'd like that."

Samuel stepped away but took her hand. "There is a box in the carriage that David will be bringing in. Please have Katie arrange a tray and place it outside our bedchamber."

"Certainly, sir."

"Thank you and goodnight, Mrs. Harris."

"Goodnight, sir. Franny." The woman walked towards the kitchen while Samuel led Franny towards his study.

Franny sank down to kneel before Sadie's bed, not wishing to disturb the mother as her remaining brood slept in a pile close to her side. She was aware of her husband, but grateful he allowed her time to collect herself. Running her hand down the dog's side, she leaned forward and gave the dog a kiss between her ears. "How are you, girl?"

The dog thumped her tail in appreciation of the attention and the scratching she was being given.

"See, little one, even Sadie knows you belong with us."

Franny smiled and nodded and, as Sadie shifted, she counted the puppies. "There are only three left," she said, a bit surprised to see the other seven missing.

"Yes, most were picked up yesterday and today in order to be given as gifts for Christmas," Samuel explained, moving to squat beside her. "We'll take Edward's two with us tomorrow." He reached into the basket and scooped up the runt of the litter, the pup half the size of her sleeping siblings. "I thought you might like to keep this little one." Sadie lifted her head as if waiting to hear her mistress's decision.

Franny looked up and smiled. "Really? Oh, I'd love to, and I think Sadie would like to keep the littlest one with her."

Samuel laid the puppy in her palms. "What do you think we should call her?"

His question had her looking towards his desk and the bookcase that stood beside it. It was with another blush that she turned her face to his. "I'd like to call her Sarah, if you agree?"

His chuckle caused the puppy to awaken, give a short little yip and one lick of Franny's palm before her eyes shut again. "Well, I think she agrees, and I most certainly do," Samuel said. "After all, she did introduce you to the Sarah in the book, and is at least a little responsible for bringing us together. Even though I'm sure we would have eventually got here, this little girl's habit of sleeping on books allowed you to learn to trust me."

Instant heat flooded through Franny at the reminder of exactly what that trust had led to; a spanking—a bare bottomed spanking—over this man's knees. No longer trusting that she wouldn't drop her new pet due to her trembling, she kissed her soft fur and tucked her back against her mother's side. Once her hands were free, her husband took them and helped her to her feet.

"I love you, Franny."

"I-I love you too, Pa… Sam…" Her voice trailed off before she continued. "I'm sorry, I don't know how to address you, sir."

He bent to give her a gentle kiss. "It's a bit confusing, isn't it?" At her nod, he moved to an armchair and pulled her down on his lap. "I realize all this is new to you, sweetheart. Not just our marriage, but all the little things that will make our lives together. I don't want you to worry about anything, Franny. If you have questions, ask me. If you are nervous, tell me, and I'll do my best to reassure you that you have no reason to be. We'll discover our way, I promise."

Franny relaxed for the first time since entering the house. She leaned into him, her head on his shoulder. They sat quietly for a few minutes before her husband spoke again.

"How do you want to address me?"

She could feel her heart beating as she gave her answer. "I think 'Samuel' when we are out, and 'Papa' when we are alone or with family and friends. Is that okay?"

"I think that's perfect, my love. Do not worry if you mess up, as I'm honored to have you call me either of those." He grinned and stroked a finger down her arm. "However, if I have cause to turn you over my knee or punish you for being my naughty little girl, you shall call me 'Sir'. Is that clear?"

"Yes, but…" She looked into his eyes and reached out to place a hand on his chest. "After you spa-spank me, if-if you are comforting me, may I call you Papa?"

Samuel pulled her into his arms. "Sweetheart, there is no
if
. I promise that any time you need comfort, after having your little bottom blistered or just because you need cuddles, I will be most honored to have you call me Papa." When he bent to kiss her this time, it wasn't on her cheek. His mouth descended on hers and the kiss ignited her very soul. She continued to tremble in his arms, but not every quiver was caused by being in a new home or being a new bride. No, most of her trembling was because his touch, his kiss, and the look of pure desire in his eyes was causing her entire body to heat.

He helped her off his lap and scooped her again into his arms as he carried her up the stairs. She'd never been above stairs before, and still didn't truly see anything but her husband as he carried her across another threshold and set her down. As he turned to close the door, Franny looked around what was to be her room—hers and her husband's. The lamps had been turned down low but added a soft illumination to the room. A fire was crackling behind a screen. The covers had been turned back on the largest bed she'd ever seen with four huge columns rising towards the ceiling. She flushed at the sight of the white gown and matching robe Bea had given her that someone, probably Mrs. Harris, had laid across the counterpane next to one that must be Samuel's. The realization that another person, practically a total stranger, knew she'd be in this room, sleeping—God, and not just sleeping—with a man had her heart pounding. The sight of her slippers sitting next to his at the side of the bed didn't help calm her nerves. Turning to her new husband, she remembered his words.

"Papa, I'm nervous."

He instantly took her into his arms and held her close with one arm. His free hand moved to stroke her arm and her back ever so softly as he placed small kisses on her cheeks, her forehead and finally, her lips. Nothing was rushed. The couple stood in the firelight, their bodies responding to the other's touch until Franny was trembling once more, her breath catching as his hand moved to gently cup her breast. It was a feeling that instantly had her pressing herself closer, a soft moan escaping. When he pulled back just a bit and used his fingers to lift her chin, she smiled.

"I love you, and I'm not nervous now," she said.

His mouth descended on hers, no longer soft. His hand entwined in her hair and another moved to stroke across her breasts, his fingers rubbing across the small hard peaks of her nipples as they strained against her clothing. Her mouth opened to allow his tongue to slip inside and her moan was captured by his mouth. The kiss took just a moment, and yet took a lifetime. By the time he pulled away, she was panting, and felt as if he'd lit a fire inside her that threatened to consume her as it moved throughout her body, warming her tummy and causing an ache to begin between her legs.

"Oh, Papa," she moaned.

"I've got you, Franny," Samuel murmured against her hair. "I've got you and, little one, I will never ever let you go."

He did let her go, but only long enough to undress her. Though she blushed as each piece of clothing slid to the floor, she was aching to discover where this feeling would take her. She knew without a doubt that wherever she wound up, as long as her husband was with her, she'd gladly spend eternity in that place.

 

Samuel took his time. He wanted to make this a memory his bride would treasure; one that she would look back on without regret of any kind. When she was wearing only her undergarments, he knelt to remove her shoes and then slowly rolled each of her stockings down. He loved the feeling of her hands grasping his shoulders as she lifted first one foot and then the other. He adored the soft gasp she gave when he leaned forward and kissed each of her ankles and then her calves. When he saw her legs beginning to tremble, he stood.

"You are so beautiful, Franny. God, you look like an angel." Cupping her face between his palms, he bent forward and kissed her as his fingers reached for the ties of her corset. As he slowly loosened each one, he could hear her soft pants and feel her trembling. Once he tossed the garment away, there was nothing but a thin chemise and a pair of drawers keeping her body from his view.

He stepped away and began to remove his own clothing. His shoes and socks were first, then his coat and his vest. His braces were lowered off his shoulders and he heard her gasp as his fingers began to work the buttons of his shirt from their buttonholes. When she looked towards the bed and the gown, he left his shirt to fall open and returned to her.

"Do you trust me?"

Her eyes widened and she instantly nodded. "Yes, y-you know I do."

"Then, my angel, you'll have no need of your gown. Tonight I want to worship you, to teach you the pleasures of making love. I want to touch you, to caress you, to fill you, to make you fly and experience sensations you've never felt before."

"I-I… want that, too."

Her cheeks were flushed and yet the flash of wariness he'd seen in her eyes had disappeared, to be replaced with desire. She didn't pull away when he untied the bows of her chemise, and moaned when he pushed the fabric apart, leaving it hanging as his own shirt hung open to reveal his chest. He didn't immediately cup her breasts. Instead, he pulled her slowly towards him, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her that last inch until their bare flesh met for the first time. She gasped and when he bent to kiss her, she lifted her face to his, her lips already parted, and when they met his, her arms wrapped around his neck and she pressed herself closer into him.

Shirt and chemise were finally thrown aside and he untied the ribbon of her drawers as she trembled, her chest heaving, her breasts tipped by beautiful pebbled nipples the color of ripe strawberries. He kept his eyes on hers as he allowed her bloomers to fall to her ankles and knew without looking that she'd stepped out of them, to stand nude in front of him.

"Beautiful," he whispered as he took her hands, which she'd moved to cover her mons, to her sides before taking her into his arms again. "Do you know what is going to happen?"

Her cheeks flushed and her teeth bit her swollen bottom lip, but she nodded. "Bea, um, talked to me today."

"Good, but if you have any questions, know that you may ask me." At her nod, he led her to the bed and then lifted her to sit on the mattress. She reached for the cover but at the slight shake of his head, she moved her hand to her lap to entwine with her other one. He'd teach her that she was not to cover herself, but that could wait. He stepped back and removed his remaining clothing. Her gasp had him understanding that no matter how her sister had explained what happened in a marriage bed, his young bride was a bit shocked at seeing his erection. He didn't feel she was ignorant of the basics of mating, but understood that she was a gentle woman, a sheltered woman, a virgin who was trusting him to make her first time as easy as possible.

He moved onto the bed, sliding behind her to sit against the headboard. Pulling her onto his lap, he had to bite back a groan when her hip trapped his throbbing cock between them. He wanted nothing more than to lay her down, spread her legs and push inside her body, but he forced himself to think of her needs. Several minutes were spent with gentle kisses and soft strokes before his hand found her breast again. Her moan was deeper as he took a turgid nipple between his fingers and rolled it until she was pressing into his hand, her bottom squirming on his lap. Releasing her nipple, he moved to repeat the roll and slight tug on her other one. He smiled against her lips when he felt her legs part of their own accord.

Moving her again, he laid her down on her back, his mouth leaving hers to kiss her throat and the hollows of her collarbones. His cock demanded he remember its existence but he simply moved down her body, placing feather light kisses on the mounds of her breasts until he gave each tight nipple its own kiss.

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