She shrugged. “Short of throwing projectiles out of my window or howling at the moon, I really don’t know. I had hoped that if it came to that, some marvelous idea would come to me.”
“Then I thank God that my life did not depend upon your brilliant defense plan.”
She laughed softly, knowing he was right, knowing it had been foolish of her. But she had no idea how much her gesture, however small, had touched him. He reached down, gently touching her chin, her cheek.
“I know you were awake,” he said in his soft, rich voice. “I watched you all night, too, through that very window. Not much of a way to spend a wedding night.”
She shrugged, lowering her gaze coyly. “I would not know, my lord. I have never had a wedding night.”
“I shall see what I can do about that.”
He sat down on the bed next to her. He was such a large man that the small wood and rope bed frame creaked dangerously.Alixandrea barely had time to look at him before he was descending on her, his lips clamping down over hers and his powerful arms winding around her body.
As it had the first time he kissed her, the heat and fervor of the passion between them overwhelmed her senses and she could do naught but submit to his tender ambush. He kissed her softly, joyfully, succulently. She was barely aware when he laid her back on the bed, his mouth still against hers, his arms embracing her tightly.
His hands, as large and calloused as they were, nonetheless possessed the gentlest touch she had ever experienced. They caressed her back, her arms, moving to her face and neck and stroking her skin tenderly. His lips moved to her cheeks, her ears, suckling her neck as if it was the most delectable morsel. The sensations were overpowering and Alixandrea surrendered completely, losing herself in the maelstrom of heat he created.
“I am sorry,” he suddenly pushed himself up onto one elbow, his face looming over her. “Perhaps this is too much for you. We barely know each other, after all. I am simply a stranger who is now your husband. If you would prefer to leave this intimacy until we come to know one another better, I understand. I do not want to hurt or frighten you, but I swear that I cannot keep my hands off you. Something about you… it causes me to lose control and I am a man unused to such lack of discipline.”
Alixandrea gazed at him; the man was nearly too good to be true, apologizing for his weakness. Any other man in his right mind would have taken her on the spot, without question or regrets. She was not so naïve that she did not know that. She was older than most brides and had therefore been privy to much talk in that arena. The servants at Whitewell and Pickering had been quite free with dispensing their knowledge.
“You have not hurt nor frightened me so far,” she said softly. “I am your wife, Matthew. It is your right to claim me.”
“I know what my rights are. I was attempting to consider your feelings.”
“It feels good so far.”
He eyed her, seeing a double meaning in her words. He took it as encouragement. A grin spread across his face and he lowered his head, his lips hovering a hair’s breadth above her own.
“Are you sure?”
“I am sure.”
“Then let us see if we cannot make it feel even better.”
His tongue invaded her mouth. More attuned to it this time, she invited him in, her own tongue playing timidly with his. He laughed low in his throat and his hand left her shoulder, moving down the swell of her breast. Focused on what his hand was doing, she closed her eyes as his lips suckled her chin and moved along her jaw line.
His fingers were moving between her breasts, drawing a sensual outline around the left one. She could feel him moving across the rise of her breast, into intimate territory, and she flinched when he found her sensitive nipple. He smiled against her flesh and his big palm closed in over her ample bosom. It was more than a handful for him.
He caressed her a few times, acquainting himself with the softness of her delicious body. Alixandrea had never experienced something so electrifying and a groan escaped her lips. Ignited by her response to his touch, Matthew suddenly pulled her to a seated position and unfastened her surcoat as quickly as his big fingers would allow. He pulled it up over her head, leaving her in her soft sheath. Almost simultaneously, he removed his tunic, baring his massive chest.
Dazed, Alixandrea stared at his broad chest, the muscles bulging and his skin a lovely golden-pale color. She hardly noticed when he unfastened the stays of her corset and the thingpopped free. He could not pull it off of her so he yanked it over her head. In his haste, her hair caught in the metal stays and they ended up laughing as he unwound her hair from its tangle.
“Sorry, love,” he said as he deftly unwound the mess. “This wasn’t part of my master plan.”
She giggled as the hair came free and he tossed the corset aside. He paused a moment, gazing down at her. He could not help the smile on his face. Though it was normally close to the surface, it seemed perpetual when she was around.
“I have never in my life seen such a sweet face,” he murmured. “Every time I look at you, I can hardly believe that you are real.”
She did not know what to say. His words made her feel warm and wanted, more than she could have imagined and better than she had ever hoped for. The White Lord was hers, and she was his, and both seemed very pleased at the prospect.
Still dressed in her sheath, Matthew lay his wife back down on the mattress, the thin layer of linen the only barrier between their bare skin. He could feel her taut nipples brushing through the material, rubbing against his chest, and it nearly drove him mad. He laid his body atop her so that he wasn’t crushing her and also so one hand could have free rein; when his lips latched onto her soft earlobe, his right hand went to work.
His fingers snaked underneath her sheath, lifting it up as he went. Her skin was like velvet to his rough-hewn fingers, and he literally had to stop himself from trembling as his hand trailed up her thighs to her buttocks, moving further to her hip. When the sheath came up as high as her groin, he felt her hesitate and modestly try to keep it from coming up any further. His lips left her earlobe and went to her mouth, kissing her until she could hardly take a breath. It distracted her enough so that he was able to lift the sheath to her waist. His mouth still on hers, he putboth hands underneath the sheath and lifted it over her head in one clean motion.
In the same action, he lifted up the side of the coverlet, covering her enough for modesty so that she would not feel exposed. It was a considerate thing to do, but Matthew, unlike most men, had always been intuitively considerate. Perhaps it was his mother’s influence, the gentle Audrey; whatever the reason, he was thoughtful in a way that Alixandrea would benefit from. She never felt exposed or uncomfortable as Matthew covered her and removed his boots and breeches. Somehow, it all came off in the heat of passion and soon they were both nude beneath the turned up corner of the coverlet.
Matthew never said a word as his mouth returned to her, only now it explored beneath her neckline. Her shoulders, the swell of her breasts, and her arms were all targets for his tender lips. Alixandrea lay there, smothered by his enormous body and tented with the coverlet, feeling the predominant emotions of comfort and satisfaction and something she could not yet define. Having never been intimate with a man, the painful tingling in her arms and legs was something she’d never known, and every time he suckled her skin, it made her want to gasp. A few times, she did. But when Matthew’s mouth latched onto a nipple, she achieved an entirely new level of sensation she’d not yet conceived of.
