Dare To Love (11 page)

“Now, I’m going to kiss you.”

“You are?” I asked in disbelief. Amazing how
forgetful a peck on the lips could be, like the one he gave to me
when we were pronounced man and wife. But now, as my heart pounded
in my ears like drums, I gazed into his interest and promptly found
myself looking forward to our first real kiss.

He hesitated, and then ran his thumb across
my mouth. I stared at him for a moment wondering what the heck he
was thinking. I could not wait for him to kiss me…and then he
did.

His lips were nice, soft, and gently pressed
against mine. Tender, then deep, then tender again, shooting weird
darts directly into my stomach, awakening feelings felt deep
within. I didn’t even know those sensations existed, but there they
were, and my body wanted more. The ambiance felt amazing; did it
feel the same for him? I kept thinking why we hadn’t tried this
before. We had been alone countless of times, not chaperoned, we
were best friends bursting at the seams with curiosity. We could
have easily stole scores of kisses and I scolded myself then and
there why I never insisted we at least try.

Kissing him felt incredible though,
unleashing my inhibitions to finally touch his naked body. I
reached for his neck, wrapping my arms around his back and
shoulders and the physical contact was all it took. There was no
going back; I liked how his skin felt underneath my fingertips…I
liked it too much. His male skin was rigid, and I was surprised to
find so many muscles I hadn’t noticed before. He kept kissing me
however, each connection different than the first, increasingly
eager and when his tongue suddenly pushed through my lips, a
gratifying moan escaped both our throats. I met his ardent
exploration in a delicious, languid impatience like we had been
kissing for years. It felt so natural…it felt like heaven. Too much
heat passed between us now as the tastes of him unlocked my desire
to touch, sample and be aware of every gift he had to offer. I felt
him tugging at my nightgown, and with the aid of my own hands, I
was instantly released from my gown and undergarments, and, Oh God,
I did not want the vibrations to end! His hands roamed far and
wide, alongside my neck, down my arms, to my lower back, around my
buttocks until they reached up and cupped my breast. It only
startled me, his heat on my skin; I even anticipated his fondle
which made me flinch. He instantly withdrew his hand, but I quickly
grabbed it back and led it back down to my breast.

He looked into my eyes and I got lost again
in the deep green of them. “Oh God,” he continued, brushing his
lips hotly across my lips in tiny little kisses, “…You are so
beautiful Gwendolyn, so sweet, my sweet, sweet girl.”

Those words…his enunciation… the exhilaration
from his expressions produced such a thick fog of passion, my
reservations suddenly vanished and something wonderful fell into
its place. I watched with round eyes as he kneads the small mound
then bent down and leisurely suckled. With his searing mouth, the
wet gratification surprised and delighted me, I wanted to offer him
something else, but what else could I give him? I watched in awe as
Tommy swiftly shifted to the other, licking and filling his mouth,
looking every bit as wonderful as it felt. I did not know how to
make him feel as good, so I grabbed his head and ran my fingers
through his thick black mane. I had never felt his hair before,
coarse on the ends from the sea wind, silky-soft by his scalp…and,
oh God, the smell of him? Unexpectedly sensing some new essence; my
nostrils wide and greedy, sopping up the heavenly scent of soap and
masculinity. He quickly brought me to a blistering temperature, an
inferno of sensations that needed to be extinguished. My body
burned; oh God, it felt like fire, so much heat flared amid my
junction when Tommy suddenly covered my body with his, adding
pressure where I ached for it the most. I was so ready for him, for
it, for whatever he was about to do and felt the bulk of his weight
bear down on me with something hard and foreign entering in one
lively swoop. I did not know what to expect, but I felt instant
pain. My slight yelp buried beneath his lips confirmed my
discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered now, “So
sorry.”

He should apologize; I remembered
thinking—that definitely hurt, and then we laid very still…our
chests moving up and down soaking in some kind of anticipation. And
that’s when I realized what was really happening. Tommy was… inside
of me? I felt it move and adjusted to the fullness and all I kept
thinking was how mind-blowing it felt…how utterly fantastic to be
able to receive the mystery of him in the place where I kept
secret.

I pushed against the breadth and tried to
meet his rhythm experiencing tingling convulsions spread through
from my stomach up my spine and down my back. When I arched up to
welcome the wondrous sensation, Tommy impelled one last time then
collapsed into my chest nearly out of breath.

He remained on top of me heaving, and I did
not mind in the least. His body was wet with perspiration, but I
did not seem to mind that either. He was suddenly closer than ever,
and my heart cried out to get virtually aligned. My mother was
right, our wedding night was memorable, and for the first time in
my life, I was elated to be a girl, happy to be his and glad to be
married. He smelled wonderful that night, and my future didn’t seem
so bleak. He was mine forever, and, without a doubt; I found a
fresh diversion to share with a cherished friend.

“Did it continue to hurt?” He whispered
against my lips, continuing to kiss me.

“No,” I blushed, caressing the sides of his
cheeks. I wondered if he would want to try it once more?

He gave me another devastating smile, “Want
to do it again?”

I laughed, and then closed my eyes. “I was
just thinking the same thing.”

I remembered thinking how much I loved him
and how much I wanted to tell him so. I brushed back hair that
mottled his face and, oh God, I loved him with all my heart! Loved
how his body felt naked, inside…kissing, on top of me. But then I
instantly recalled him not wanting to marry me and right away tears
began to swarm my eyes…

~~~~~

Gwendolyn sighed heavily after recalling that
wonderful memorable night, and sadness as well as tears quickly
approached. Recollecting her wedding night brought forth agonizing
deliberations. Was she really in love with Charles? She was
incredibly fond of him…always looked forward to conversing with
him, but good God, why wasn’t she in love with him? She should be
in love with him; she agreed to be his wife! Charles had never
brought forth that kind of passion. Not once had he looked upon her
with the same sort of eagerness. Was she simply marrying him for
companionship? Would their marriage be one-tenth of what her first
short-lived union was? Would Charles ever be able to spark fervor
in her with one simple glance? A grin…Or just him standing there?
No, and Gwendolyn felt troubled realizing the awful truth, and in
the same breath, she felt like a fool knowing she once loved Tommy
Hollinger so deeply and he never returned her love. It took her
years to get over him…and now he was alive? Looking every bit as
dashing, even more so, beyond handsome, stealing all her thoughts,
she was utterly confused. This titter-totter of emotions had
engulfed her so fast; it was driving her crazy. She doesn’t know
which way to turn, or move, one moment she wanted to run and hide,
the next she wanted to curl up into his arms and stay there
forever. His mesmerizing spell was choking her to death, at any
given moment, poke her in the arm and she would positively
scream!

And what was this ridiculous notion of
thinking Thomas would eventually pop up unannounced behind her? She
kept turning her head in anticipation of his sudden emergence. What
stupidity to think he would really want to continue to spend time
with her! Resume their past childhood friendship? He was not the
same boy, he was a man and everything had changed. What could they
possibly have in common now? Memories? Swimming? Frogs? Mary? Oh,
God, Mary…he was still in the dark about his daughter and Gwendolyn
felt bad swallowing the surprise.

There…she did it again; turning her head
around in hopes of seeing him coming near. But to no purpose, no
one was around, it was just she and the darn horse…she, alone with
her wandering perplexed stupid optimism. Which was worse? Having
him actually standing there unannounced, or her continually wishing
she were where he was?

But Gwendolyn had to remember that they both
accepted a pledge, an oath of marriage. She knew Thomas was
extremely principled and would never break his commitment. Huh, and
that’s a laugh, would he even want to? Would she ever be able to
break hers? She hated to know she would be hurting a friend, but,
oh God, she would walk away from Charles in a heartbeat if she ever
found out that Thomas felt the same. But Gwendolyn knew in her
heart that he may not. He never loved her before, so why do so now?
He was probably head over heels in love with Katrina nonetheless.
Oh, how she envied Katrina at this point! What did she hold to
actually earn a voluntarily proposal from an amazing man like the
Duke of Norwin?

CHAPTER NINE

A carriage arrived at the manor early in the
morning. Every day, Thomas would get up at dawn and head out the
door and remain absent till evening. Gwendolyn studied his routine
daily and decided to sabotage him on his way outdoors.

Gwendolyn stood centered in the foyer waiting
for Thomas to come downstairs. The sun had just peeked over the
hillside and a chill had been in the air. Appropriately dressed in
her seaside coat, gloves and bonnet, Gwendolyn waited patiently
when she heard the sound of a door being shut and quick footsteps
stride alongside the stairwell to descend the long staircase.

“Gwendolyn!” Thomas asked surprised to see
her, “What are you doing up so early?”

“I could ask the same of you. Where do you
go?” She asked, judging his buff pantaloons tucked into brown
riding boots, his beige Carrick, loose with large sleeves
overlapping both hands. God, he looked absolutely tempting…she had
never seen clothes look so categorically accurate on an athletic
physique.

Thomas grinned and put his hat atop his head,
“Gwendolyn, I am the owner of transoceanic cargo. My vessels are
some of the finest in all of England. Someone has to make sure
everything is in working order,” he remarked, opening up the door
to find Devin about to knock.

“Good morning friend how was breakfast?”

“Fine Devin, ready to go?”

Gwendolyn stood upright and proceeded on with
them. “Thomas, can I come along? I won’t be in the way, I promise.
There is something I would like to speak to you about.”

Thomas then bowed to her and led the way. He
helped her into the carriage, and to Gwendolyn’s amazement, Katrina
was already inside.

“What a pleasant surprise,” Gwendolyn voiced,
feeling a bit surrounded.

“I ride along with him every morning,”
Katrina voiced, eyeing Gwendolyn and then gazing out the
window.

Thomas noted his fiancée’s anger. “By the by
Gwendolyn, what is it that you wish to speak to me about?”

Gwendolyn gulped and shut her mouth tight.
There was no way in hell she was going to tell him about his
daughter with an audience. “I would like to visit a tailor I heard
so much about.”

Thomas looked at her curiously, “A tailor?”
He quipped, crossing his arms about his chest. “Does this tailor
have a name?”

“Madame LeFleur…I hear she is the best
seamstress in all of London.”

Katrina arched a brow and snickered, “Why,
she is. I need to visit her myself, why don’t I accompany you with
an introduction?”

“That is not necessary,” Gwendolyn voiced,
eyeing Thomas seated next to her, his hands between his thighs,
casual and unaffected by the altercation that was about to
awaken.

Gwendolyn then gazed over at Devin; he too
was busy admiring his fingernails, biting and clipping them with
his teeth. “I insist, Gwendolyn, Thomas has an account there, don’t
you dear?”

Gwendolyn quickly eyed Thomas and caught his
deliberate distraction.

“Madame LeFleur? Why yes, I do have an
account there.”

“Then it is settled. We will drop my brother
off at the shipyard, while Thomas escorts us both to Madame
LeFleur’s.”

When they arrived at the shipyard, Gwendolyn
got out of the carriage a bit overwhelmed. Not only was being
enclosed with Katrina uncomforting, the shipyard took her by
surprise; it was a massive, giant productive seafaring
industry.

“I haven’t been here since I was a child,”
Gwendolyn recalled, walking around the construction.

“Still pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Thomas
stated proudly, suddenly feeling Katrina’s gloved hand wrap around
his forearm.

Gwendolyn turned away from the assembly and
focused on Katrina’s hand binding Thomas’ arm. A rage of
protectiveness entered her heart as her eyes met his. “And what
exactly is being built here?”

Thomas cleared his throat, “I generally build
commercial vessels built for merchants, three-mast, square-rigged
carriers. But, as of late, built for merchants, three-mast,
square-rigged carriers. But, as of late, footer. A well-trained
crew could load her heavily with armed cannons, easily taking out
any pirate ship. My team has constructed one hundred, thus
far.”