“Wait! Take your shirt off!”
Sebastian’s brows rose, his eyes glancing at the hand cinched around his wrist then back to her startled eyes and white teeth biting her lip. The blush spreading from chin to forehead revealed her shock at the impulsive command, Sebastian grinning crookedly and chuckling.
“As you wish, my lady. I am yours to command and please in any way you deem possible.”
No disrobing fanfare other than to randomly chuck the garment into the air, and he was kneeling on the mattress with bare torso inches away from her gaze. His grin widened as she boldly scrutinized the fair skin covering his straight, broad shoulders, the lean but defined muscles scattered with tawny hair leading in a thin trail down his flat, hard abdomen to then disappear underneath the band of his pants. The physical evidence as to the degree of his arousal was clearly noticed as her blush deepened to crimson, although she did not remove her gaze as rapidly as he may have suspected she would. When she did lift her eyes to his face, the mixture of embarrassment and brazen appreciation caused him to laugh.
“Now, some wine.”
Georgiana could not have torn her gaze from his figure if her life depended on it. In fact, it felt as if her life depended on keeping him in her sight, and studying him in the process. She would be lying if she said her mind had never imagined his unclothed physique. Those speculations were birthed as far back as Lyon with the de Valdays and only grew alarmingly stronger and frequent as their wedding night approached. Yet he was superior to her feeble fabrications. Far superior.
Then he turned from the table with a glass of wine in each hand, sure-footed and graceful as he crossed the short space. His skin and hair gleamed in the candlelight, handsome face and stupendous body filling her view and looming large as he came closer. Abruptly, she heard the voices of the de Valdays—
yummy
enough
to
eat… kiss, touch, squeeze… think of all the wonders to be enjoyed with such a man…
Only it did not sound like the de Valdays but rather like her own voice!
“What did you say?” Sebastian asked, his brow quirked and crooked grin in place.
“Nothing!” she choked, grabbing the wine from his hand and gulping half the liquid in one swallow.
“My mistake. I thought I heard something about kissing, but it was probably my thoughts ringing inside my brain. The wine is delicious and to your liking, I presume.”
Georgiana knew he was teasing, she having obviously spoken aloud, and she was both embarrassed and amused. Hiding her flaming face behind a curtain of hair and sipping steadily to squelch the threatening giggles, she nodded an affirmative.
“I happen to enjoy a nice white wine from time to time,” he continued, speaking casually as if discussing the weather, “but in general my palate prefers a more robust Cabernet. Or once in a while a light claret is appealing. Port I cannot abide, a point de Marcov likes to tease me about since it is considered a manly option.”
During his calming exposition, he settled onto the bed beside her, reclining against the pillows with his right side touching hers. Stretching his long legs underneath the sheet, he entwined his feet with her smaller ones, toes tickling and caressing. Lastly, still without breaking stride in his speech, he enfolded the hand lying slack on her thigh, fingers lacing between and curling around.
“I remembered your expressed preference for Corcelles-en-Beaujolais Sauvignon Blanc so purchased a case before we left France…”
“You did?” She raised her gaze to his in surprise. “How thoughtful! Thank you.”
“You are welcome, love. I wish I could say it was an onerous task and thus earn greater respect for my efforts, but alas, it was easily accomplished.” He smiled, lifted her hand to kiss the back, after which he returned them both to their place on her thigh, took a sip of wine, and resumed in the same conversational tone.
“The bottles are safely stowed and will accompany us on our journey north. Ah, Georgiana! I hunger to show you my home! Staffordshire is similar to Derbyshire, so I know you will love the countryside. There are innumerable places of interest and sharing them with you will be a delight. Then to culminate our holiday at Whistlenell Hall will be a pinnacle of satisfaction for me. It will appease my heart to know you have dwelt in your new home for a spell before we return to Paris.”
On he spoke, his lush tenor enthusiastically describing his ancestral country and the manor house he was born in. He painted vivid pictures of the hills and rivers, small boroughs and large cities, historic places and modern marvels of Staffordshire. The estate grounds and Tudor-style Whistlenell Hall came alive in her mind.
It was certainly not the first time he had talked about his home. Nothing he said was new, and Georgiana found her mind lulled and body unwinding. Unconsciously, she slumped against him, her head falling onto his shoulder and drained wine glass rolling out of her hand to lay forgotten on the mattress.
Contented minutes passed before Georgiana’s numbed mind gradually awoke to several considerations. First was the shocking realization that she was pressed tightly against his body with a gorgeous naked torso begging to be investigated! Second, as her eyes focused anew on his flesh and scanned downward, was that the prominent bulge previously noted—and felt—as an unmistakable indication of his desire to make love to her was significantly diminished.
Dismay pierced her heart followed swiftly by fierce irritation. The anger was directed wholly at herself. She knew what he was doing, dear wonderful considerate man that he was. In a selfless effort to calm her nervousness, Sebastian was dampening his need.
The next consideration, fueled by infuriated recriminations, was that the last thing she wanted was for their wedding night to end with her foolishly falling asleep or childishly shrinking away from what she logically knew would be a glorious consummation. All of it combined to fan the flame of her passion into a sudden inferno that blazed even higher when he jerked and gasped seconds later at the simple maneuver of her hand brushing boldly across his upper chest.
“Sebastian,” she whispered, looking into his startled eyes, “thank you for understanding my nervousness and soothing me. But I do not want to hear about pastureland or architecture. I want to be your wife.”
Then she kissed him, deeply, while simultaneously stroking down the middle of his chest and abdomen, over the edge of his pants to firmly press her palm onto his groin.
His response was astounding! Every muscle twitched, shivers rippling head to toe. Instantly, the flesh under her hand hardened and expanded, the shape defined to her seeking fingers even through the fabric. His arms encircled and grasped her, pulling her into his body. The kiss wildly escalated, groans and hoarse pants lodging in his chest.
It was crazed, fervent, and animalistic.
And Georgiana wanted more.
Careful, conscious thought was gone. Passion and instinct drove them. Yet as ferocious as the subsequent interlude, it was also beautiful, tenderly loving, romantic, and magical.
Georgiana would forever remember every movement, sensation, spoken adoration, impulsive exclamation, and involuntary cry.
She marveled at the heat of his skin, it soft and mildly ticklish from the hairs gliding underneath her palms while the muscles underneath were solid. In amazement, she perceived the intensity of his reaction to her touch and it emboldened her to explore and mimic his maneuvers. If her excitement was increased by his hand stroking under her gown up her bare leg, buttocks, and hip until reaching her sensitive female areas for direct stimulation, then she assumed he would enjoy this as well.
Sebastian immediately comprehended her intent and assisted with the hasty removal of his trousers, his sigh of relief from the uncomfortable confinement melding into a guttural groan when she wasted no time in carrying out her own direct stimulation. Within seconds his arousal significantly multiplied, Georgiana exhilarated by his wild writhing and panting and furious resumption of his exploration to her body.
A heartbeat later she was astride his hips, reflexively swaying and rocking against the pressure of his arousal. It was pleasure unimaginable. Then he removed her gown, both of them naked and blissfully entwined, his mouth and tongue accompanying his hands and fingers in a concerted effort to rouse.
Oh, how well it worked!
The last vestiges of rational thought evaporated from the fire of lust scorching through her body. Her only thought was the craving for more of him, all of him, to ease the ache of need.
“Please!” she rasped, opening her eyes to dazedly meet his. “I want… you, Sebastian. Please, now.”
He nodded, his eyes drunk with passion and immeasurable love, and groped around the bedside table until encountering a jar she had not noticed. “This ointment will help with the pain. I do not wish to hurt you, dearest.”
She opened her mouth to reassure him, but the words were lost to a gasping moan when, with a simple shift of his hips, he was poised and began the incredible process of making her his wife. Slow at first, then gradually in paced undulating movements, she accustomed herself to the strange but marvelous feeling. It was stupendous.
Yet it was not nearly enough.
Georgiana felt his body shaking. His brow was furrowed and the hands encircling her waist trembled with the effort to avoid losing control.
“There is no reason to hold back, my love. I am not a china doll and I want you.”
And with that proclamation she grabbed hold of his face, initiated a fierce kiss, and plunged downward hard until he was fully encased within her. Searing pain burst through her belly but she had anticipated this. Her cry of distress was stifled and drowned by Sebastian’s unrestrained shout of ecstasy. The damn burst and his efforts to proceed cautiously disappeared. Tenaciously, he clutched on to her, thrusting deep and fast again and again, each stroke igniting rivers of pain but also surges of euphoria.
Georgiana ignored the throbbing and focused on the joy of being one with him. The unmasked rapture he was experiencing lifted her soul above the pain. And miraculously, just as his manic pace started to ebb and she detected twinges of awareness in his eyes, the pain was no more than a vague discomfort superseded by exquisite pleasure and revived sexual fervor.
“I love you,” she whispered into his ear, her fingers teasing over his ears and twisting through his curls. “Please… do not… stop…” she moaned between sucking kisses across his jaw.
Then she leaned back, her hair falling as a cloud down her back and waving over her breasts as they swayed with each quickened movement.
“It is my dream coming true,” he muttered in awe. “God, I love you, Georgiana! With all my soul!”
Ensuring neither would be left wanting, as in his unfulfilled dream months ago when he thought she was lost to him, Sebastian matched her tempo and augmented it with intimate caresses until, like in his dream, she arched her back and cried his name.
“Georgiana!” he shouted, propelling himself one last time, until he was buried as far as possible, and releasing the pent-up pressure violently as rapturous bliss shot through his entire body.
In the aftermath, they clung together in a pliant heap, wits and muscles slow to recuperate. Peace blanketed their hearts, and for a long while they were content to wallow in the gratification and residual ecstasy flowing through their veins. Sebastian’s mind was wrapped firmly in a state of utter paradise with hands lazily caressing when Georgiana lifted up from where she had collapsed onto his chest. She pushed the errant curls away from his face, smiling as she fondled his parted lips, and broke the silence.
“So, have you adequately done what you intended? Do I look ‘properly ravished’?”
His jubilant laugh echoed through the bedchamber, Georgiana helpless but to join in. Only when he rolled over with her pressed under his body did the laughter abate to bubbling snickers behind their kissing lips.
“I would wager we both look properly ravished. Heaven knows I am blissfully satisfied.” He smoothed the tangled hair back from her forehead, smiling even as he intently searched her face. “I love you, Georgiana. You are breathtakingly beautiful. I am as happy as I have ever been in my life and am overwhelmed by you, by us, and by this night we have shared. I…” He hesitated, swallowing and blinking away the mist. “I love you and need to know you are… How do you feel?”
“Happy. Joyous. Bursting with love for you,” she answered emphatically, after kissing him and squeezing his body tighter against her chest. “Tired and weak and sleepy. Quite pleased with myself, if you must know. Smug, I suppose. I am wildly and wantonly satisfied, to use your word. It is amazing how I feel at this moment! The joy in understanding fully how stupendous our physical relationship is, and will be, is immeasurable. And yes, I am sore, since I know that is primarily what you are fretting about”—she rubbed the faint furrows between his brows—“but it is bearable, will diminish in time, and is outweighed a hundredfold by the love and euphoria. Oh, Sebastian! I love you so!”
The kiss that followed was lengthy, penetrating, and racing toward reanimating the desire lurking perpetually under the surface of their skin that had only been mildly slaked by one time making love, no matter how extraordinary. Their hands succumbed to the plea to explore naked flesh, excitement arising with every touch. Georgiana was more than willing to give in to her newly awakened power and Sebastian’s response to her stimulation was evident. Halting the mad desire to rush headlong into the realm of pure bliss for a second time required restraint Sebastian did not know he possessed.