He leaned down to press a tender kiss to her lips. “If you need me to stop—”
“No!” She grabbed his upper arms and locked her legs around him. “Don’t stop. It’s . . . I’m alright.”
Was she? God, he didn’t know, but her thighs were like a vice, holding him tightly, her exquisite heat wrapped around him, her hips meeting his every thrust, and then in the next breath it was too late to stop. Her breathless cries filled his ears, her fingernails sinking into his back as she convulsed around him, and he let out a defeated groan, throwing his head back as his climax seized him, his back bowing as the tight knot of pulsing heat at the base of his spine unraveled in waves of dizzying pleasure.
A moment later, it was over, and he fell onto the bed, dazed. Prue remained flat on her back beside him, her chest heaving with her uneven breaths, but otherwise, she didn’t make a sound.
Had he hurt her? Did she want him gone? She was so still, so quiet, the silence stretching on until a cold, hard kernel of dread lodged itself under his breastbone. “Prue?”
She let out a sigh and turned toward him with a soft, dreamy smile. “It does fit, after all.”
For an instant, he wasn’t sure what she meant, but then he remembered the painting, and an unseemly shout of laughter sneaked past his lips. “It does indeed, and rather nicely, at that.”
The dread dissolved then, and he reached for her and wrapped one arm around her waist. With a gentle hand on the back of her neck he turned her into him, tucking her face against his chest. She didn’t resist, and they remained that way, her breaths becoming deep and even as the candles guttered, and the fire burned down to embers in the grate.
CHAPTER18
Jasper’s warm body was curled around Prue, the dusting of crisp hair scattered over his bare chest tickling her cheek. It was quite late, the sun a bright halo around the closed draperies, fingers of light curling around the edges, trying to push the heavy silk aside so they might peek inside, but her husband slept on, his breathing deep and even.
She lay still, listening to his slow, steady breaths for some time before she could resist no longer, and rose up onto her elbow to gaze down at him.
Her breath caught at the sight. He’d thrust the coverlet off sometime in the night, and the soft folds were draped around his hips, leaving a bounty of smooth, bare olive skin spread out before her like some delectable feast.
Goodness, he was handsome. Beautiful, even, with his silky dark hair in tousled waves over his forehead, his full, sensuous lips relaxed in a sleepy pout. She reached out a tentative hand and traced the line of his neck with her fingertips, her teeth sinking into her lower lip at the fascinating sight of his pulse fluttering against his bare throat.
She edged closer, staring at it, mesmerized. What would it taste like? Did she dare dip her tongue into that tempting hollow to find out? She leaned closer, her lips parting against her shallow, panting breaths, and pressed the tip of her tongue into that intriguing dip, sighing at the warm glide of his skin under her lips, the faint taste of salt and soap against her tongue.
He let out a low groan and she jerked away, her cheeks heating as her gaze flew to his face. He was awake, but he didn’t move or speak, only gazed up at her with dark, hooded eyes. So, she reached for him again, tracing her tongue around the shell of his ear before biting down on the lobe.
“Ah.” He caught the back of her neck, his strong fingers sliding into her hair as the hoarse groan fell from his lips, and pleasure surged through her. A kiss, a caress could make him cry out for her touch? Would it truly be as easy as that, to make her husband want her?
She dragged her hand down his chest, watching his face as she lingered to stroke the crisp, dark hair there with light, teasing fingers. His breath caught at the caress, his muscles twitching under her palms, and she moved lower, licking and teasing his hot skin until she reached the thin line of dark hair under his navel, following it with her tongue until the trail disappeared under the crumpled edge of the coverlet . . .
She got no farther. A deep, throaty growl tore from his chest, and in one heart-stopping instant he’d surged up and tumbled her onto her back against the bed, his mouth descending on hers in a savage kiss.
Oh, yes.Yes. This was what she wanted. His mouth, his tongue, his shuddering breaths, the weight of his powerful body over hers, their legs tangling and his fingers gripping her hips, holding her against him as he kissed her, his lips open, his mouth wet and needy and willing, but she only got only a fleeting taste of his desire before he jerked his head away with a gasp, and rolled away from her.
She lay there, stunned. What had happened? Had she done something wrong? “Jasper?”
He didn’t reply, and a well of emptiness opened up in the pit of her stomach, so deep and cold she shivered. “Jasper, are you—”
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but I’ve an engagement this afternoon.” He grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a careless kiss to her knuckles, then he tossed the coverlet aside, slipped out from underneath it, and marched across the bedchamber, gathering up his discarded clothing as he went.
“An engagement?” Why would he arrange an engagement the morning after his wedding night? It didn’t seem likely, unless . . . well, hehadmade a point of saying they’d each pursue their own activities once they were married.
It seemed he meant to start right away.
“I’m afraid I may be gone for a good part of the evening, as well. If I don’t turn up by dinnertime, do feel free to dine without me.” He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead and chucked her under the chin. “I’ll come and bid you good-bye before I leave.”
Before she could say a word in reply, he was gone, the click of the door closing between them somehow deafening, the echo of it lingering far longer than it should have.
She lay still in her bed for a long time after he left her alone, a confusion of blurry images unspooling behind her eyelids. Jasper kissing her, his lips tender against her heated skin. Jasper touching her, his hands so gentle, so careful, as if she were precious, his deep, hypnotic voice whispering in her ear, telling her she was beautiful, and the low groan that had spilled from his lips when he’d found his pleasure.
It had been magical.
It was what every lady dreamed of, wasn’t it? Her handsome new husband, gazing at her as if she’d hung the very stars in the sky? How her heart had soared with hope in that moment, and in the toe-tingling, breathtaking bliss that followed! He’d so overtaken her senses that she’d begged—yes, actually begged him to . . . well, at the time she hadn’t known quite what she’d been begging for.
But he had, and he’d given it to her, bringing her to the heights of pleasure, his arms wrapped around her, his sweet kisses gentling her as the ecstasy had melted into warm waves of bliss, her heart slowing its frantic pace and a delicious languor overtaking her.
