The Marriage Prize (17 page)

large and cal oused, and he knew they would feel rough upon

large and cal oused, and he knew they would feel rough upon

her silken skin. When Rosamond began to make smal

mewling sounds, he knew the feeling was returning to her

frozen flesh.

His erection lay marble-hard against her soft bel y as his

hands

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moved firmly up and down her back. Rod tried to ignore it,

hoping it would diminish, but of course, the more he

massaged her bare flesh, the harder he became. The

continuous rubbing of his cock against her silky skin brought

heat to his body, if not to hers. Rosamond whimpered as if

she were afraid. "No, no, don't be afraid. Trust me,

Rosamond. If you can feel what I'm doing, that's good. Give

yourself up to me, feel it, feel it."

"Hurting..." she gasped.

Rod realized she had not cried out from fear, but from pain

because his rigid phal us was like a sword thrusting against

her softness. Quickly he turned her around in his arms, so that

her back lay against his chest, and he nestled his stiff

manhood in the cleft between her buttocks to cushion its hard

length. Then his hands stroked over and between her soft

breasts, brushing across her heart, then sliding to her bel y,

rubbing in circles.

Without asking, Rod knew Rosamond was getting warmer. As

her body heated up it gave off the scent of brandywine and

woman, and he knew it was the most intoxicating aroma he

had ever smel ed. With her head tucked beneath his chin, he

held her spoon-fashion to al ow his body's scalding heat to

seep into hers.

Rosamond had neither the energy nor the desire to protest

what he did. It was as if she had no wil of her own, wanting

only to yield her body into his possessive hands. As she lay

curled against him she gradual y became euphoric, drifting in

a warm sea of delicious sensation. His hands were

magnificent; she wanted him to go on stroking her forever. Her

eyelids final y lowered and she gave herself up to sleep and

the warm haven of Rodger de Leyburn's body.

He felt her body total y relax against his, and final y knew that

Rosamond slept. Rod lay as stil as he could so that he

wouldn't disturb her slumber, though he himself was highly

disturbed. Gradual y the light faded from the day, and dusk

descended. Though he closed his eyes, he could not sleep,

for his body raged with unspent passion and desire for the

woman he held in his arms.

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Nine

Rod knew the moment Rosamond awoke, for she

immediately withdrew her body from his and half turned so

that her back lay upon the bed, rather than upon him. Silence

stretched between them as she recal ed what had led to this

shocking intimacy. In order to warm her, de Leyburn was

sharing her bed, and what's more, they were both stark

naked! Though her modesty had been assailed, strangely,

Rosamond wasn't angry; rather, she was thankful for his

common sense. He had shared his body's heat with her, which

had likely prevented her from becoming gravely il .

Though Rosamond wasn't angry, she was feeling

uncomfortable,shy, and rather strange. She had no idea how

long they'd been abed, butit was now ful y dark, and they lay

bathed in moonlight. Final y shefound her voice and

murmured, "My lord, I find myself in the most peculiar

circumstances I am sharing a bed with a man; indeed, I

believe I have actual y slept with you! The world would cal me

a wanton, yet I swear I have never even been kissed."

Rod sat up and bent over her. "That is easily remedied."

As his mouth sought hers, Rosamond drew in a swift breath,

then yielded her lips to him. His lass was hungry, but not

ravenous, at least not at first. The firm pressure of his mouth

made her part her lips slightly, which encouraged Rod to

deepen the kiss. Rosamond found the experience

pleasurable and responded softly, warmly. That's when his

mouth turned ravenous. Desire ran along his veins, turning his

blood hot and demanding. His arms slid about her fiercely,

and she felt her breasts crush against the dark hair on his

heavily muscled chest. The sensation was arousing and

Rosamond lifted her arms, sliding them

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about his neck. The kiss went on and on, neither of them

withdrawing from the hot, melting gratification of their senses.

Their mouths parted at the same moment. "You may consider

yourself kissed, Rosebud." Rod searched her lovely face.

"How are you feeling after your ordeal? "

"The ordeal of the river or the ordeal of the kiss?" she asked breathlessly.

"The kiss was an ordeal?" he asked, amused, raising an

eyebrow.

She smiled dreamily. "It was as cataclysmic as fal ing into the

river."

"I doubt that, chérie; when I pul ed you from the water you were

unconscious. The kiss didn't even make you swoon."

"Perhaps you should try again, I felt very close to fainting." He responded to her invitation immediately, cutting off further

words. He was rampant with need, kissing her savagely,

al owing the wildness in his blood free rein, until he cautioned

himself that Rosamond was stil a virgin. He knew he could

seduce her at this moment, but if he took her maidenhead,

she might deeply regret it and accuse him of taking

advantage of her when she was completely vulnerable. Which

would be completely true, he freely admitted.

Gradual y, Rod managed to curb some of his passion, though

not al . He was stil hard and throbbing and knew he would be

so as long as they lay naked together. Being with her this way

was a divine torment, one he was not wil ing to relinquish quite

yet. With purposeful intent, he drew down the fur cover until it

lay across her hips. "I want to look at you." Rosamond blushed in the moonlight as his eyes roamed over her face and her

body.

Her violet eyes were fringed by long, golden lashes that cast

shadows on her lovely cheekbones. Her lips were swol en

from his kisses, which made her mouth look even more

sensual and seductive. Her long hair was wildly disheveled

from being wet, then dried in bed, without having its tangles

brushed out. Her throat was a long column of shadowed

alabaster, merging into soft shoulders and delicate

col arbone. Her breasts, so lush and round, were far too

tempting for Rod to leave untouched, untasted.

His palm cupped one of the firm, upthrust globes, weighing it,

caressing it, stroking it with tender reverence, then his thumb

brushed

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across its pink tip, turning it jewel hard. His hand brushed

across her heart, then took possession of her other breast,

giving it even more attention than the first. Unable to resist

longer, he dipped his head to kiss them and lick them and

taste them as if they were ripe fruit. It took her breath away,

and her beautiful breasts rose and fel rapidly beneath his

hungry mouth.

When his hand brushed across her bel y, sliding down to

where the lynx fur mingled with her golden curls, Rosamond

murmured a protest, as Rod ral y expected she would. He

stayed his hand while he persuaded her to his wil . "There is

no harm in what we do, Rosebud. I only want to show you a

little love play. I promise you wil stil be a maiden—it wil not

compromise you in any way."

She wondered if she could trust him to keep his word. She

had put her life in his hands, and his great strength and

determination had saved her, but could she trust him with her

virtue? More to the point, could she trust herself? Lying with

him in the bed brought her more pleasure than she had ever

known. Perhaps it was heightened because it was forbidden

pleasure, or perhaps she was so grateful that he had rescued

her, she wished to reward him. Perhaps she was merely

curious about the male-female mystery about which she had

heard so much but had never experienced herself. Whatever

the reason, she purposely remained silent, giving tacit

permission.

Rod pul ed down the fur cover and tossed it aside, then he

stared at her as if mesmerized by the female loveliness

spread before him. "You are exquisite to look upon,

Rosamond. You are like a lily from the Song of Solomon." He

bent over her to drop a kiss into her navel, then continued

gazing at every delicious inch of her. "You have the longest

legs I've ever seen; they set my imagination aflame. I can feel

them wrapped about me when we make love ... if we make

love, but not tonight, my sweet, I promise."

With his intense green gaze upon her, Rosamond felt

beautiful. She was unused to a man's undivided attention and

found it highly flattering. His dark face and midnight-black hair

set her pulses racing, and the contoured muscles of his chest,

covered by black hair, tempted her fingers to touch him, trace

him, tease him. But she knew she must not arouse him further;

he was already on the verge of losing control.

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When Rod threaded his fingers through the golden curls on

her high mons, Rosamond gasped and, arching her body,

cried, "No!" He withdrew his fingers immediately and instead took hold of her hand and drew her fingertips to her woman's

center. "Enjoy the sensation, feel the pleasure, sweetheart."

He brushed their joined fingers across the sensitive place,

al owing her to get used to the intimacy. He knew the moment

she thril ed to the touch, and pressed the pads of their

fingertips against the sensitive spot hidden inside her scented

flesh.

The tiny moan in her throat told Rod that she was experiencing

her female sensuality for the first time. He dipped his head

and took possession of her lips with his mouth, then set up a

rhythm with the tip of his tongue, that matched the pulsations

their fingers produced. Almost immediately, he felt her

become dewy, and knew she was becoming sexual y

aroused. Moving in delicate circles around her bud, he

enticed her to feel passion. He circled slowly, firmly, never

increasing the tempo, knowing a woman craved a faster

cadence, but knowing also the slower the pace, the longer the

pleasure and the harder the climax.

Rosamond felt a hot ache start in her woman's core, then

threads of flame raced up into her bel y and fanned outward

and upward into her breasts, making them hard and tingling.

The scalding threads spiraled higher and higher and ever

higher, until she peaked and shattered into a mil ion delicious

shards of ecstasy.

Rod immediately stopped the movement of his hand and

cupped her mons instead, pressing firmly as she pulsated and

quivered, until her last tiny spasm was spent. Then he

enfolded her in his arms and held her securely so she could

savor the enchantment of what had just happened to her. Rod

knew he had held himself in check too long and realized his

lust was ravenous and savage. He wanted to mount her and

bury himself in her silken sheath, thrusting until he had

mastered this woman and made her his forever.

His need made him shudder convulsively, and he knew if he

did not find release, he would ravish her. As gently as he

could, he drew her fingers down his body, and, holding them

within his, wrapped them about his marble-hard shaft. It took

only a few manipulations and suddenly he was crying out his

release. He covered himself with the soft linen sheet,

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knowing he could not yet impregnate her with his seed. That

was a pleasure he would have to postpone until she was his

lawful y wedded wife.

Rosamond buried her face against his shoulder, feeling shy

yet strangely empowered from the intimate experience they

had shared.

"I'm sorry, Rosamond," he said, the frustration in his body only partial y relieved, "please believe I did that for your sake, as

much as my own."

******************

sight. At the sound of a polite knock upon the door, Rosamond

looked around and saw his gray velvet bedrobe lying on the

floor. She slipped from the bed, covered her nakedness with

the robe, and cracked open the door. Two servants wheeled in

the most amazing bathing tub she had ever beheld. It was

carved from wood in the shape of a Viking ship, painted bright

red, with a dragon masthead.

Behind the servants came Master Burke, Tewkesbury's

castel an, carrying a silver basket fil ed with sponges, exotic

bath oils and soaps. "If there is aught else you need, my lady,

please let me know. This is a wel -run household, with

sufficient maids to attend you, but Sir Rodger has rebuffed my

suggestion to provide you with a lady's maid."

"You are very kind, Master Burke. I wish you were my

castel an." She gave him a bril iant smile. "I can certainly manage without a maid, but if you are thinking of propriety, I'm

afraid it's a little late."

"Never, my lady." He bowed with polite dignity and backed