“Oh no, I am saying that in hopes you will, my love. There is nothing I prefer to your muscular, naked body towering over me and then practically crushing me, except you never do. You know precisely when to be gentle…” She trailed off with a sigh.
Owen took that moment to do as he’d said, scooping her into his arms, hurrying up the stairs and along the hall to his bedroom. Kicking the door shut, he tossed her onto the bed.
She looked to be savoring every second of the abduction. And he would make certain she adored every minute that followed, too. He thoroughly relished the intimacy they shared, despite refraining from intercourse. It was in turn, fulfilling and extraordinarily frustrating. It brought them closer while keeping a little something in reserve. They were splitting hairs by bowing to tradition and preserving the true meaning of her honor while thwarting propriety to suit themselves.
At the same time, he couldn’t wait for their upcoming wedding day. And night! He wanted everyone to know how elated he was to make her his wife, how grateful he felt that she was his. And he was chomping at the bit to show her everything else making love entailed. He was also looking forward to becoming a father. In fact, Owen was ready and eager for a life with Adelia, something he’d previously decided he would never—could never—embrace again after the terrible wrongdoing that had befallen his family.
He was well aware of the nasty moniker ofLord Wrathbantered about behind his back and also within his hearing. Moreover, he wished he’d never been forced to take up the mantle of vengeance, for all the good he’d done.
He had a feeling Sophia would approve of his newfound happiness. And more importantly, how he’d released the intense anger that had gripped him and colored his world for so long. He would never spare another thought to the vermin Beaumont, nor give the man an ounce of power over him. The madman had been hanged, and justice had finally been served.
*
After a respectabletime as an engaged couple, perhaps a month or two shorter than some in thetonwould find completely acceptable, Adelia stood beside Owen and said her vows. She wore white like the queen had done a decade earlier, with yards of satin and lace, an entirely frivolous gown with an equally frivolous overskirt, which she would probably never wear again.
Whereupon Adelia had the idea of putting the entire outfit away and, perhaps, drawing it out for her daughter, if she were so blessed, to wear on her wedding day.
“Gently,” she said to Owen, who was removing the dress from her hours after the wedding feast. “Don’t tear anything,” she added as he fiddled with the last of her buttons and tugged the bodice off her shoulders.
He held her hand so she could step out of the mountain of cloth around her feet, before scooping up her gown and sending it sailing through the air onto the divan in the corner of his room—theirroom, as it would now always be.
She yelped with excitement at his abrupt actions. When he gazed at her with passion turning his blue eyes dark, he completely took her breath away.
“Do you see what you are doing to me, Lady Burnley?” He stood naked facing her, parts of him jutting out quite impressively. “It is a wonder I didn’t shred the dress entirely. Now, off with your—” he groaned, “—hundreds of other layers.”
She giggled and helped him remove her petticoats and underskirts and her corset, shift, and drawers with a great deal of untying, unfastening, pulling, and loud sighing on his part.
Once more, he held her hand while she stepped out of her finery, and, somewhat less gentlemanly, kicked it all to the side of the room.
“That is an obscene amount of fabric,” he muttered.
Adelia couldn’t speak, not while standing in front of him, clad in only her garters and stockings. She wanted to get into the bed and under the covers. When she reached down to unfasten the first garter, he stayed her hand.
“Let me, my lady wife.” Dropping to his knees, he unhooked the first garter, fastened just above her knee. While placing soft kisses on her skin, he slid the silky fabric down her leg. When he did the same for her other stocking, she bit her lower lip with pure pleasure dancing through her.
“You’re trembling,” Owen said, and wickedly placed his mouth on her thigh, gently kissing her again.
Her gaze fixed on his mouth so close to her intimate parts. Knowing what would come next in the marriage bed for the first time as she lost her innocence, she couldn’t stop the nervous shivering.
“Not with fear,” she said.Perhaps a little.
He glanced up at her. “I will never hurt you.”
“Nor I, you.”
He nodded, kissing her other thigh while his hands skimmed up the backs of her legs until they cradled her bottom. Shockingly, he drew her woman’s core to his mouth, almost making her tumble forward but for her grip upon his shoulders.
As he’d done during their very first intimate encounter, he teased her with his mouth and his skilled tongue until she shook so badly, she feared she would fall over. But he didn’t let her reach her peak. He seemed to be teasing her as he never had before.
“Let me lie down,” she whispered. “I cannot…I….”
“You will,” he said. “We will together, I hope.” Standing, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her back onto the bed. They fell together, and it took a few seconds to sort themselves out and scramble up higher onto the mattress.
“Sorry,” he muttered when they both were finally at the head of the bed, him on his side, raised on one elbow, looking down at her. “I thought that would go more smoothly than it did.”
Another anxious laugh escaped her.
“I think we should get on with the…the main occurrence of the marriage night” she said, “so I can lose my nervousness along with my virginity and enjoy the rest of it.”
