“Because as lovely as ye are in face and form, Arabella Stewart, I am nae aroused by ye yet,” he said bluntly, forcing his face to remain unsmiling, though he was near to another fit of laughter. “That part of me that ye refuse to entertain wi’ yer soft, wee hand needs to be encouraged. That’s what the kissing and the touching are for, lassie.” Leaning forward, he nibbled on her earlobe.
“I do not understand any of this,” Arabella admitted grumpily, thinking that his attentions to her earlobe were not unpleasant at all.
He could not restrain the grin that simply refused to be stayed, despite his efforts not to offend her, and Arabella, really looking at him for probably the first time, was suddenly aware of what an attractive man her husband was when he was not frowning.
He was not handsome like Sir Jasper Keane, but though that craven was fair to gaze upon, his soul was as black as night. Tavis Stewart was surely not pretty, for his face was too angular, but for all that his features appeared to have been hewn from rock, he was pleasant to gaze upon.
“Now, lovey,” the earl said gently to her, “ye must tell me exactly what ye do know of lovemaking, for though yer mam did nae instruct ye as she might have, lasses have an instinct in these matters, I know.”
“I have seen the horses in the pasture and the dogs in the hall,” Arabella told him honestly. “Once my father even let me watch as the bull was brought to the heifers, though my mother complained, but even I know that people do not mate in such fashion.”
“Nay, they do not as a rule,” he answered her.
“Must we do thisthingnow, my lord?” she pleaded with him.
“Aye, we must,” he said quietly, and tipped her face up so that their eyes met. “Are ye nae the least bit curious, lovey, as to what all this fuss over love is about?”
His eyes were green!A dark, foresty green. She had never before dared to look so deeply into them, and the open look of passion in them almost took her breath away. Arabella shivered, and silently damned her mother for her silly thoughtlessness, for something within her desired to please this man. She wondered if Sir Jasper Keane would have been as patient with her as Tavis Stewart was now being. Nay, he would not have. Jasper would have put his own pleasure above all else, and the realization that admission brought her somehow angered her. What a little fool she had been!
“Dinna be afraid of me, lassie,” the earl murmured softly. “I am said to be a skilled lover, and I will treat ye gently.”
Still aggravated with herself Arabella snapped, “Is your man-root as big as your pride, my lord?”
“Only sometimes, lovey,” he shot back with a chuckle, and kissed her mouth.
With the touch of that firm mouth against hers, Arabella felt her body flooded with a delicious warmth. Thoughts not in her head minutes before were suddenly swirling about in her brain. She was in bed.Naked.With a handsome man.Equally naked.They were going to make love, a not wholly unpleasant prospect, even if she was more frightened than she chose to admit. Well-schooled in kissing by her husband over the autumn months, Arabella opened her mouth to him, and his tongue plunging between her lips began a leisurely exploration.
She felt scalded as his tongue boldly caressed hers, and as he enfolded her within his embrace, the nipples of her breasts thrust forward suddenly to press against his furred chest. The softness of those dark curls was more irritation, however, than soothing. She found herself squirming nervously, which only increased their proximity to one another, and she sought to pull away.
“Nay, lass,” he whispered against her mouth, and then his voice thickened slightly. “Jesu, yer sweet!” His head dipped once again to her breasts, which were now firm, the nipples so engorged that she thought they might burst open.
Her head began to swim as he kissed the sensitive flesh of her bosom. His tongue encircled her nipples again, each in its turn, and he suckled once more upon a sentient little point, groaning with his pleasure. Each time his lips tightened and drew upon her, Arabella could feel a corresponding tug in that secret and forbidden place between her thighs. Was this pleasure she was beginning to feel beneath her nervousness? She suddenly yearned to touch him, and yet she did not know if she should, or even quite how to go about it.
His mouth continued to give her pleasure, transferring itself from one nipple to the other while his other hand began to smooth over the taut flesh of her belly. She almost cringed beneath this new touch, not that she found it unpleasant, for she didn’t. It was simply odd to have a man caressing her so intimately. His fingers strayed lower, brushing over her Venus mont as if by accident, and Arabella shifted nervously again. The hand returned to her belly and her breasts, causing her to murmur with soft contentment.
“Open yer eyes, lovey,” Tavis Stewart said to his bride, and Arabella’s light green eyes flew open to look blushingly into her husband’s dark green ones. She had not even realized her eyes were closed. “Yer the bonniest lass I have ever known,” he told her tenderly, and then he brushed her lips with his.
“You do not have to tell me that, my lord,” she answered him shyly. “I know my duty as your wife, although I will admit to being grateful for your patience with me in this matter.”
“If I tell ye that yer bonnie, Arabella, ‘tis because I think ye are,” the earl replied. “This marriage had come about through matters not of our making, lovey, but I think myself a fortunate man to have found so beautiful a mate.”
“And had I not been bonnie, my lord?”
“I would hae still made ye my wife, lassie, but nae gained a hundredth of the pleasure from ye that yer beauty gies me. Dinna be angry wi’ me, for ‘tis man’s nature to appreciate beauty.”
“You are blunt, my lord, and honesty, I have been taught, is a great virtue,” she answered him.
“Will ye gie me yer hand now, lassie?” he said. “I need yer touch. Nay! I crave it.” He took her hand in his and drew it, unresisting now, to his burgeoning manhood. “Dinna be afraid, lovey,” he encouraged her. “He’s a fierce laddie in battle, but easily tamed if ye’ll be but kind to him.”
Bravely Arabella reached out, her fingers wrapping about the length of hard flesh. To her great surprise it felt warm and alive. Indeed, it pulsed with a vigorous life force that she could feel most distinctly beneath her touch. “Are all men fashioned so, my lord?” she asked him. “It seems overlarge to fit within my sheath,” she noted, careful not to look at either the earl or his manhood, for she was yet shy.
Tavis Stewart was astounded to discover that his bride’s gentle touch was like being scorched with wildfire. He was hard put to maintain his equilibrium. For the first time in his life he seriously understood the real meaning of lust, and he was not quite certain that he felt just a little ashamed. He wanted this exquisite girl adorning his bed. He wanted her body with every fiber of his being, and he was not sure that a man should feel so strongly about his wife, about any woman. “Some men,” he answered her carefully, “are smaller, while others are larger, although we Stewarts are said to be endowed better than most.”
“Is my touch pleasurable to you, my lord?” she inquired of him innocently.
“Aye,” he said slowly, hoping his voice did not betray the fierce fire withinhimthat he was so desperately trying to bank. He could scarcely fall on his bride like a mad dog. “Does my touch please ye?” he asked her, although he knew the answer, he did want to hear it from her lips.
“Aye,” she said, nodding, carefully choosing her words, “but I am not certain, Tavis, that I should feel such pleasure. Is it right and proper? Does the church not teach us that copulation is for the mere purpose of procreation only?”
