His Favorite Mistress (26 page)

His mouth took hers, his kiss both bold and hungry, as if she were what he really wanted for dessert. His tongue skimmed across her lower lip, then did the same above, before delving in between to capture her flavor. Curling her palms against his shoulders, she kissed him back, forgetting everything in that moment except him. Then he stopped, the interlude over almost as quickly as it had begun.

“Why did you do that?” she asked, breath panting from her lips.

“Impulse. I thought we could both use a little something to tide us over.” He stroked a hand across her hip. “Go upstairs. I won’t be long.”

Her body humming, she let him place her back onto her feet. For a moment, she wondered if she was steady enough to walk, but somehow she managed.

Tony gazed after her as she departed, wishing he’d kept her in his lap where he’d had her only moments ago. Reaching for his wineglass, he drained it.

Ten minutes,
he decided. He’d give Gabriella ten minutes, then go up to change in the adjoining dressing chamber, where earlier he’d bathed and dressed for dinner after his ride. Twenty minutes more should give her enough additional time to ready herself while he stripped out of his garments, slid into a robe, shaved one more time, and brushed his teeth. Rising to his feet, he went in search of Mrs. Lamstead.

After thanking her for a most wonderful dinner, he made her eyes widen by informing her that she needn’t arrive at the house tomorrow until well past midday. When she protested that he and Gabriella might awaken hungry “come the morn,” he agreed she could set their uneaten dessert, along with a plate of cold foodstuffs suitable for breakfast, in the larder. She could also ready the kettle on the stove and arrange the makings for a fresh pot of tea. Otherwise, he and his new bride, he assured her, would do quite well on their own. Leaving the half-scandalized woman to finish her duties and lock up the house, he made his way up the stairs.

Meanwhile inside her bedchamber—
their
bedchamber—Gabriella stood in a thin, white silk nightgown and slippers waiting for Tony to arrive. She gazed at the bed, a huge affair with carved cherry posts and dark green damask hangings. The sheet and counterpane were turned back in silent invitation, the draperies drawn to create an atmosphere of seclusion and comfort. After helping her undress, the maid had bid her a smiling good night, then let herself out of the room to make her way to the servants’ quarters, which were housed in a small, detached wing.

Alone now, Gabriella shot a glance toward the door that led to the dressing room, a few faint noises letting her know Tony was on the other side. A tremulous quaver fluttered in her belly.
I wasn’t nervous earlier today,
she mused,
so why am I now? It’s only Tony, after all, a man I know and trust. The man I love—my husband!

The thought made her breath grow shallow, memories washing over her of all that had passed since that first momentous evening when Tony had caught her in Rafe’s study. How long ago that night seemed now, as if half a lifetime had passed, instead of only a few short months during which she and Tony had become friends and so much more. And always, there had been the unassailable pleasure of his touch, his every caress and kiss making her sigh with delight. Even now, the heat of the impassioned kiss he’d given her downstairs in the dining room lingered on her lips, making her long once again to be in his arms. And she would be. Soon.

So then, of what exactly am I afraid?

Suddenly her anxiety eased, her old sense of anticipation rising again to take its place. Gazing around the room, she wondered if she should continue to wait where she was, or instead take a seat on the sofa. Of course, he might be expecting to find her already in the bed. Or was such an idea too bold, especially for an untried virgin on her wedding night? Pondering each choice, she quickly made up her mind.

Checking his pocket watch, Tony snapped the gold lid closed, then set it aside.
Forty-five minutes.
In deference to Gabriella’s maiden state, he’d given her an extra measure of time, concerned she might be suffering from a case of bridal nerves. If he didn’t mistake the matter, she’d seemed a bit reticent at dinner, although her kiss had certainly been sweet as ever.

Despite his own needs, he’d already decided to take their lovemaking slowly—or at least as slowly as he could stand—and ease her, hopefully without fear, toward the consummation of their union. Taking a breath, he turned the knob of the connecting door and stepped into the room.

He’d expected to find the bedchamber swathed in near darkness, with only one or two candles left to burn. Instead, there were half a dozen at least, their combined illumination providing enough brightness to drive off the heaviest night shadows and leave the entire chamber swathed in what he considered a rather seductive, golden glow.

In spite of the candlelight, he didn’t see her immediately, his gaze moving first to the sitting area before roving farther afield. His pulse gave a sharp kick when he did discover her—in bed, her long, raven hair spread across the pillows in a dark, luxurious cascade.
Dear Lord, how exquisite she is!

Approaching, he barely noticed the soft texture of the thick, wool carpet beneath his bare feet. Moments later, he halted beside the bed, his gaze going to hers.

“Hallo,” she whispered, her gentle greeting trailing like a blaze of fire through his system.

“Hallo.” He drank in the sight of her, tracing the purely feminine shape of her delineated beneath the sheet. At the foot of the bed lay a length of white silk. He studied it for a moment, puzzled at first before understanding dawned. His pulse kicked again. “Are you naked under there?” he demanded, his voice low and rough as sand.

She nodded, her lashes lowering slightly in an unconscious display of seduction. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Mind!
His arousal throbbed out his answer. “No,” he croaked. “I don’t mind.”

Her lush violet-hued eyes warmed with obvious pleasure.

A long moment elapsed, then she pulled back the sheet and revealed herself fully to him—her invitation clear.

Given his age and experience, he wouldn’t have thought there was anything left in this world that could shock him, but watching his young bride display herself in such a daring and unguarded way left him momentarily speechless. His body suffered no such difficulties, however, his shaft thrusting forward as if it hoped to reach her, nearly managing to part the folds of his robe in the effort.

When he said nothing, she hesitated, her shoulders suddenly curving inward as she reached to cover herself again.

“Don’t,” he ordered.

She froze and gave him an uncertain look.

“Just lie back,” he commanded in as gentle a voice as he could muster. “Just let me look.”

Visibly forcing herself to relax, she did as he asked, settling back against the mattress and feather pillows to let him gaze his fill. And he did, tracing over her alabaster skin, across her lovely shoulders and arms, then on to the ripe thrust of her generous breasts, their pink nipples drawn into tight little berries beneath his inspection. Gliding downward, he surveyed the convex dip of her flat belly and the gentle flare of her hips before moving to the shapely length of her legs and the dark triangle of curls between. Even her feet were fashioned as if wrought by a master hand. In all his life, he’d never seen anything so exquisite, nor wanted a woman with such raw hunger and unbridled lust.

“
God,
Gabriella,” he said in a harsh tone. “Not even in my dreams did I imagine how beautiful you are. I am humbled to know you are mine.”

The smile returned to her mouth—a mouth he was abruptly desperate to kiss. “Would you…”

He raised a brow. “Would I what, sweetheart?”

“Might I see, too?”

One of his eyebrows went up.
So she’s curious about me, is she? About the way a man is fashioned. Well, I shall be more than happy to oblige.
A grin spread across his face, suddenly realizing he was in store for what should prove to be an exciting night. After a brief pause, he reached for the tie on his robe.

Gabriella waited, her heart beating so hard and fast it was a wonder the organ didn’t explode from her chest. She couldn’t believe what she’d done, shocking herself, and at first, she thought, Tony as well. But he didn’t look shocked anymore—quite the contrary, the expression on his face was one of unrestrained delight.

Peeling off his robe, he tossed it to the foot of the bed where the black silk joined the white cloth of her nightgown, the two garments puddling together in a kind of intimate embrace. Yet she had only a second to consider such matters before her attention turned completely to him, her eyes riveted as saliva pooled against her tongue.

Like her, he hadn’t bothered with night attire, his body bare—gloriously, spectacularly bare! He stood before her without an ounce of modesty or shame, apparently content to let her inspect him at her leisure. And why should he not when he was so superbly formed?

She’d known he had broad shoulders and a long, strong frame, but she’d never before realized how powerfully built he was, his body taut, all bone and heavy muscle. He radiated vitality and strength, his skin carrying the same golden hue as his face so that he had an almost burnished glow in the mellow candlelight.

A swath of black hair curled over his magnificent chest, spreading outward before narrowing down into a line that ran across his lean, flat stomach. Dark hair dusted his extremities as well, over his arms and along the breadth of his solid thighs, then onto his firm, muscular calves and long, tapered feet.

Giving her an indulgent look, he made an easy turn, slowly revolving in place so she could see his back as well as his front. Her breath caught, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she took in the new view. From his sculpted shoulders down his lean spine her eyes roved, her gaze pausing for long, long moments on the firm, twin globes of his finely shaped buttocks. Then he finished his turn to face her once more, leaving her only one final part to inspect.

Jutting out from his body, his staff was thick and heavy and long, its shape angled at a high, almost arrogant tilt, as if it knew just how impressive a beast it was. She marveled, amazed by the sight, as well as by the realization that he was fashioned so very differently from her. Superlatively so, in her estimation.

Without knowing what she intended, she lifted a hand. “May I…touch?”

His flesh twitched, seeming to grow even larger, as impossible as that seemed, a shiny drop of fluid suddenly forming on its swollen, reddened tip. And abruptly his face darkened, all earlier displays of indulgence gone. He gave a tight nod, his eyelids growing heavy. “Yes. Touch me,” he agreed, his voice a near growl.

Her own body ablaze and trembling, she scooted closer, then wrapped her hand around him—or at least tried to, since he was too large for her fingers to meet. She gasped at the sensation, his staff hard and warm, yet soft at the same time. Unsure where she found the courage, she stroked him, gliding her hand upward in an untutored caress.

He stiffened more, hips arching forward subtly to slide her fingers higher. Her grip loosened in surprise, but before she could retreat, he grabbed her hand. “God, don’t stop. Here, like this,” he said, gently showing her exactly how he wanted to be touched.

After a minute, he released her hand, giving her the choice of whether or not to proceed. She did, each caress growing longer and firmer and more certain as her confidence built. She increased her grip just a fraction and stroked. As she did, a harsh moan escaped his lips, a full body shudder raking his frame. “Jesus, Gabriella,” he said, pulling slightly away. “Are you sure you’re really a virgin?”

She blinked and withdrew her hand. “Of course, I am! Why would you think otherwise?” She stared at him, scooting backward against the sheets as a terrible thought occurred.
Is my behavior too brazen? Have I disgusted him before we’ve even consummated our marriage?
“Are you saying I am immodest, indecent? If you don’t like it, I can—”

“Of course, I like it,” he told her, his midnight-dark eyes intensely blue. “A great deal, obviously, since you nearly made me lose control. The last time I did that was during my own first time when I was nothing but a randy, imprudent youth. And no, you’re not immodest. You are passionate. Uninhibited. Bold.”

Some of her unease faded. “And is that all right?”

“Of course, it’s all right. Better than all right. In fact, I wouldn’t want you any other way. Promise me you won’t change, Gabriella. Swear you’ll stay the same warm, spirited woman you are right now.”

A tremulous smile curved her lips. “I shall endeavor to do my best.” Lying back, she held out her arms. “I want you, Tony. Come and make me your wife.”

“You’re already my wife,” he said, planting a knee onto the mattress as he moved into her embrace. “After tonight, you’ll be my lover.”

With a ravishing passion, his mouth came down on hers, his fervor seeming to hold back nothing as he plundered her lips, his hands making skillful forays across her naked body that set her aquiver. She returned his kiss with equal ferocity, giving him as much as she knew how, his every caress broadening her experience, deepening her sensual awareness and understanding. Confident now that he enjoyed her touch, she gave herself permission to roam, letting her hands glide over his taut, muscular flesh, smiling when she felt tiny tremors vibrate beneath his skin.

He kissed her harder, longer, practically eating her up in his obvious need to give as much pleasure as possible. Desire burned deep, a now familiar ache forming between her legs. But tonight her hunger was heightened, her ardor stronger and more insistent, the slide of his bare flesh against hers creating a friction that was half bliss, half torment.

On a whimper, she clutched him tight, urging him on even though she didn’t know exactly what to expect. She understood enough of the basics, though, to worry that they might not fit together, especially after seeing proof of his impressive width and length. Tony, however, seemed to have no such qualms, and so she pushed aside her doubt and let him lead her wherever he willed.