After donning my night shirt and robe, I dismissed my valet and exited my dressing room, exhaustion weighing heavily on me. I had barely gotten a wink of sleep the night before because of my grandmother. Her health scare had put a damper on the wedding festivities, and my guests had all left, including Noah. I halted at the sight of Amelia in my bed, her loosely braided hair draped over my pillow.
“Amelia,” I said, aware of my disheveled state. She was my wife; thus I would eventually get used to having her around all the time, but this was all new to me.
Amelia yawned, rubbing her fingers over her forehead. She had a habit of doing so when she was tired or confused, or both. “I’m sorry, I must have drifted off. All is fine, I hope?”
“All is fine. Dr. Thomas wishes her to stay here until at least the week’s end. She’s having none of it, of course.” Being ill didn’t sit well with Grandmama. Rarely had I seen her show an ounce of weakness while in my presence. She’d been strong for the family after my parents passed. It couldn’t have been easy for her to hide her sorrow over the death of her only son.
“Of course.” She sat up and frowned, the white night rail tightening along her bodice to reveal the outline of her nipple. “Which side of the bed do you prefer?”
“This one is fine,” I said, trying not to stare as I pointed to the side nearest the door. We’d never really talked much about sleeping arrangements. I assumed she’d sleep in her room and me in mine. Apparently, Amelia had other ideas. I wondered if they’d align with mine. My fears of failing her as a husband had been for naught, and the desire between us was real.
She rolled onto her back, her eyelids fluttering shut. “I am so tired, and it feels so good to relax.”
“I understand.” I slipped off my robe and placed it on a nearby chair. She’d seen me naked on our wedding night; thus I shouldn’t have been embarrassed to be in my modest nightshirt. Yet I was. I didn’t have Noah’s boldness to walk around nude in front of strangers. Amelia wasn’t a stranger. She was my wife. I slipped beneath the covers, pulling them over me. “Grandmama’s settee isn’t a comfortable spot.”
“No, I would imagine not. Your legs and arms must have suffered greatly.” She turned to her side and rested her head on her hand. As children, we used to lie on the grass and talk for hours. The contours of her face appeared less rigid in her current relaxed state. Like me, she’d been beside herself during Grandmama’s health scare.
“It wasn’t pleasant.” I allowed my eyes to close and my back to sink further into the softness beneath me. My back had been hurting me all day, and the chance to lie down warred with my awareness of her right next to me. Close enough to touch and perhaps do more.
“Everyone is gone except for your sisters. The house feels eerily quiet now,” she said in a whisper, her weight shifting the mattress. Rain had begun to fall, the soft pitter-patter of drops on the window was rather soothing, and I focused on the noise to quiet my racing thoughts.
“It does indeed. I am sorry our wedding celebrations ended so abruptly. Grandmama’s overindulgence in drink ruined ourspecial day.” And Noah’s denial of my affection added to my upset. No matter how much he denied me, I still loved him, and nothing he could say would change that.
“You have no need to apologize for that. What happened to Lady Gwendolyn was unfortunate.” Silence followed her statement, the rain coming down more incessantly. “What happened in the garden concerns me more.”
How much had she seen? By her comment, enough. “I thought you might have. I’m sorry, yet again. I seem to be apologizing a lot to you lately.”
“You must never apologize for loving someone, Oliver.” The bed dipped under her weight, and a gentle hand settled on my chest. She rested her chin on my shoulder, her luscious breasts pressed tight against my arm. “I’ve never doubted your love for me. Butareyou in love with me? If not, I understand. Love and affection can be shared in many ways.”
“Now you sound like Noah,” I said, turning my head and kissing the tip of her nose. The pressure of her curvaceous body sparked my blood. I inhaled the gentle fragrance of roses emanating from her hair, along with enticing woman. “What makes you think I’m not in love with you too?”
It was a dangerous question to ask. I might have wavered in my answer if she’d asked me a week ago. It was unrelated to her, but I doubted she’d understand that argument. It was best to play ignorant rather than to hurt her feelings.
“Nothing. I am very lovable,” she said, lifting my arm and draping it around her shoulder. She pressed her mouth into my neck, soft lips finding the pulse at the base of my throat.
“You are very lovable. That’s why I love you.” I massaged the nape of her neck, need humming through my veins. Heat met my palm, and I slid my hand into the silky strands of her hair.
“And I you.” She lifted her chin, her sultry gaze locked with mine before our lips met. I rubbed my mouth over hers, coaxinga throaty moan from her. She was my wife, and I had a duty to her and my title. The fact that Noah wasn’t with us was disappointing, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy making love to her. She slid her hand under the blankets, her fingers finding my cock beneath the cotton of my nightshirt.
I arched into her touch, my arousal becoming more pronounced. “I like kissing you. Your mouth is very, well, kissable.”
Throaty laughter met my comment, her palm moving along my length. “I liked kissing you from the first moment we kissed. Do you remember that?” she asked.
“I do. We were in the tree by the back garden.” I cupped her cheek and trailed my lips down her throat. Warm skin met my questing mouth. I licked a path along the column, my passion rising with every intimate stroke.
“You called me brazen.” She massaged my cock as Noah had shown her, adding to my growing need.
“I called you brave. You misheard me.” I allowed my palm to slide down her shoulders, the warmth of her body enticing. Lust sparked my blood as well as love. I tried to block out thoughts of him, but it was difficult since Noah, Amelia, and I had forged a bond on my wedding night. It wasn’t easily forgettable.
“Would you call me brazen if I asked you to touch my breasts?” she asked, her breath coming out more quickly.
“Not at all.” I complied with her request, the weight heavy in my hand. The smell of her arousal called to me, and I could hardly credit how lucky I was to have her as my wife. I rubbed my thumb over her nipple, rolling it in my fingers like Noah had done. Noah, the man was forever in my mind.
“Would you think me brazen if I asked you to stroke my pussy? I yearn for your touch.” She tugged at my ear with her teeth, her hand moving with more speed over my length.
“I yearn to touch you.” Perhaps I was more like Noah than I first thought and could switch my passions between a man and a woman. I had been afraid to be with a woman because of the prostitute. My fears had been relieved on that score.
“I would like to remove my nightgown. Will you do the same?” she pulled away from me. With a sultry smile, she stripped off the garment, her skin pearly in the dim light.
