“Don’t you dare to laugh at me, Alex Gordon!” she cried. “From the moment I first heard your name, all I have been told is that you must breed sons quickly to protect your damned direct line of descent. Well, my mother has been gone from me for over two years, and she did not think me old enough before she left to discuss adult things with me. I know nothing of how sons are bred up, you arrogant ass! I asked Lord Bothwell earlier, but he told me naught. In fact I think now that I probably embarrassed him.”
Alex could not help it. He howled his laughter. The thought of the elegant and urbane Earl of Bothwell being asked to mother-hen his bride was too delicious. “Y-you asked Francis about t-the, t-the marriage bed? Ah, ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!Ouch!”
This last came as Velvet, desperate to retaliate, grabbed a handful of his thick, black hair and yanked.
“Dammit, ye little vixen, let go!”
“Don’t you dare laugh at me!” she raged at him. “Don’t you dare!”
She tried to slap him, but Alex, now realizing that she was deadly serious, grabbed for her. Fiercely they wrestled across the bed, she trying to smack at him; he trying to prevent it. They battled back and forth for several minutes until suddenly Alex found her beneath him.
Her eyes widened with sudden realization as she felt his hard body pressed atop her. She groaned in defeat as his mouth captured hers in a deep and tender kiss.
In that moment Velvet knew that she was lost. His lips moved gently and sweetly against her own, coaxing her to respond, willing her to meet his passion with her own. Hungrily he kissed her, sending the blood racing through her veins and into her head with a pounding roar that left her dizzy. She had the feeling that she was falling, and she clung to him desperately.
“Ah, lovey, how ye intoxicate me,” he murmured against her mouth, kissing her again, this time parting her lips to plunder its sweetness. For a moment this new intimacy drained her will completely. Only once before had he kissed her like that and then but briefly. Now his tongue probed deeply with slow, exaggerated movements, stroking and caressing the satin of her tongue until small flames of undiluted desire began to burn deep within her.
Alex thought he would go mad from the pleasure that her lips presented. He had never believed that any woman could offer such delights, and he was in no great hurry to rush them into the final act of consummation. As her head fell back against his arm, he trailed his slender fingers down her graceful throat, lingering a moment to touch lightly the visibly beating pulse in its blue-veined hollow. Then he bent his head and kissed the quivering throb.
He lay back a moment, his dark head next to her auburn one on the pillows. “Look at me, Velvet, my love.”
She turned her passion-glazed green eyes toward his lionlike golden ones, which now gazed down on her. With feathery touches he stroked a tender breast, his fingers gently encircling it slowly in a delicious, mesmerizing action. Velvet felt a lovely warmth begin to suffuse her limbs. Without realizing it she sighed, and Alex smiled softly. His fingers moved upward and began to tease the sensitive nipple until she thought the flesh would burst open and pour forth a liquid sweetness. But then, when he twisted his body and, lowering his head, took her little nipple into his mouth, Velvet understood that the pleasure was only beginning.
Suddenly she was no longer afraid. She realized that she hadn’t understood anything about this marvelous thing called lovemaking. She still didn’t understand what was expected of her, or exactly what the act of consummation would involve, but she was content for now to trust in Alex Gordon. After all, she reasoned for one brief, sane moment, he was her betrothed husband and she certainly could not deter him from his intent. A great burst of tenderness overcame her and, reaching up, she caressed his thick hair with her hand.
He felt her touch, and his heart quickened with delight, for he recognized that at least for the time being she was free of fear. When he turned his attention to her other breast lest it feel neglected, she moaned low, and the passionate sound sent a shiver through him. His curious hand slipped down her torso to her belly, and he tenderly rubbed it, sending a small dart of delight through her.
Then to his surprise she said, “May I touch you, Alex?”
“Aye, lovey, for if I gie ye pleasure wi’ my touch, so can ye gie me pleasure wi’ yers.” He lay back, barely breathing lest he startle her.
Velvet raised herself onto an elbow and gazed down at him. He was lean and muscled, and upon his broad chest was a wide mat of dark hair that narrowed as it traveled down his belly. She followed the dark line, her green eyes widening suddenly, her gaze flying back upward as her cheeks reddened. Then, shyly, she caressed his shoulder, her hand running down his chest, tangling in the soft fur of him. Her touch inflamed him, and his own heart beat wildly as she indulged her virgin’s curiosity.
Reaching up, his arm encircled her neck and drew her back down so that her firm, young breasts were pressing against his chest. Their lips met again, and this time Velvet did not simply receive his homage. This time she kissed him back. He rolled her onto her back, enfolding her in his hungry embrace. She could feel his long body matching hers: his legs against her legs, his long torso pressing into her soft flesh.
His lips became more frantic as desire rose from deep within him. He kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, her stubborn little chin, and her mouth again. “Tell me that ye want me, Velvet,” he almost pleaded with her. “Tell me that ye want me as much as I want ye!” And he shuddered with his desperate need.
She shivered, too, feeling the hard length of him that had not been there before. It pressed insistently against her thigh, almost a separate entity of its own, seeking entry into her young body. Suddenly she was afraid again, and she sobbed her fear.
“Dear God, Velvet, dinna put me off now when I long so desperately for ye!” Shifting his weight, he slipped his hand between her legs and, moving swiftly up, touched her in that most secret of places.
“No!” She twisted beneath him, her fright evident.
He groaned. “I won’t hurt ye, sweetheart. I swear it!”
“Liar!” she whispered. “Do you not remember my brother’s wedding night? I do!”
“The pain is sweet, my darling, and ’tis only once. For God’s sake, let us have done with this damned virginity of yers!” He caught her hands and, pulling them above her head, pinioned her firmly. Then his knee nudged her resisting thighs apart while with his other hand he guided his manhood to the mark.
Feeling him gain a small entry, she cried out as the swelling pressure invaded her and she begged him to stop. Maddened now with his own needs, he barely heard her. Carefully so as not to give her any more pain than necessary, he slowly pushed himself into her virgin sheath. She could feel him filling her with a fullness that shattered her, and then, before she could protest his actions further, he thrust through her maiden barrier with one swift movement.
She felt but a single stinging pain and cried out sharply, but her cry was more of a lament for something lost rather than from any serious hurt she had received.
He lay very still within her, allowing her tender body to adjust itself to his invasion, and then he said softly, “There, sweetheart, ’tis over. Now let me teach ye the honeyed sweetness that two bodies can create.”
There was a little discomfort as he began to move in her, but with each stroke of his manhood it lessened. His breathing became labored, then suddenly he shuddered and lay still once again.
“God’s blood!” he swore angrily, and, curious, she asked, “What is it, my lord? Have I displeased you in some way?” She didn’t understand why, but suddenly she wanted to make him happy.
