His tempestuous bride re.., p.8
His Tempestuous Bride (Regency Matchmaker Book 1), page 8
I cupped her cheek in my hand. “Oh no, my little Tempest. I am far from finished with you.”
Tempest
Kissing. Who knew that it could be so pleasurable? It was not as though I had a working knowledge of such activities, and particularly not the type of kissing to which my new husband had introduced me. His lips, at first gentle and coaxing, lured me into responding with ardor at a level sufficient to shock the conscience of a well-mannered young lady and which left me gasping.
When the kiss broke off, I rested my forehead against his in order to catch my breath. I could scarce believe I was utterly naked in a man’s arms and had barely considered that I ought to be embarrassed by my nudity, or at least pretend at some sort of modesty. The press of his firm chest against my breasts made my nipples harden and tingle with desire.
As if reading my mind, Lord Knox tipped me back in his lap and stroked a finger along the swell between my breasts, eliciting a sharp inhalation from me. When he cupped one globe in his palm and squeezed the tip between his fingers, I arched toward him, a moan escaping me.
Laying me back upon the soft covers of his bed, Knox straddled me with his knees on either side of my hips and lowered his head, taking one pebbled tip into his mouth while his hand tugged and tweaked the other.
‘Twas the most delightful feeling! I buried my hands in the thickness of his hair and urged him to continue. Pulling my nipple deep into his mouth while his tongue laved across the tip, Lord Knox’s ministrations sent me into a frenzy which continued unabated when he moved his attentions to the other pink peak while sliding his hand down the length of my body to my swollen folds.
“Mmm,” he said against my sensitized skin. “You are soaking wet, Tempest. Did you know that?”
“I am sorry,” I said, trying to sit up and move out of the way. “Have I soiled your linens?”
“You are a delight,” Knox said, looking up at me from between my breasts. “When a woman is wet down here, in her cunny, that is a great compliment to her husband. It means he has brought her pleasure.”
“Oh,” I said. “You are most assuredly bringing me pleasure, sir.”
“Sir?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “That seems rather formal considering the intimacy of our activities.”
“My apologies, Lord Knox,” I said, my head in a muddle over the sensations careening through my body. Concentrating on words was difficult.
“Most of my friends call me Knox. But, we are much more than friends, are we not?” To prove his point, he pinched the nubbin of nerves at the apex of my cunny and set me wriggling with desire.
“Y-yes,” I said, my throat going dry from my rapid breathing.
“I should like it if you would call me by my Christian name, James. Will you do that for me, Tempest?”
“Yes, J-James.”
“Good girl,” he said, raising himself above me and positioning his cock at the entrance to my feminine core. He stroked the hard tip of it through the wet folds of my cunny. “I promise that there will be no pain this time, my Tempest, only pleasure. And when you reach your climax, I want you to shout my name.”
“I-I shall do my best, si—James,” I said, moving my hips to accommodate him.
The tip of his cock touched the opening of my cunny, pushing in ever so slightly and then stopping before moving in another inch or two.
“Please, James,” I husked, squirming toward him.
“Hold still, Tempest,” he said, holding my hips in place with his hands. “I shall set the pace while you lie back and enjoy.”
I pressed my lips together and moaned deep in my chest, protesting his decadent torture.
Once more he moved forward, this time filling me completely. I squeezed my walls around him and watched as his eyes opened wide. “Have mercy on me, Tempest,” he said, and I did it again, reveling in the fullness of our coupling.
“Two can play that game,” he said, pulling out from me in a slow reversal of the way he had entered.
“No!” I protested. “I shall behave, I promise, only please do not stop.”
“I have no intention of stopping any time soon, little Tempest.” He plunged into me with one long stroke, found his rhythm and pounded slowly in and out, his grip on my hips intense, the expression on his face, fierce.
I thrashed my head from side to side, trying to hold back my climax for just a few minutes longer, eager for release but also reluctant for the ecstasy to end. When I could hold back no longer, delirium enveloped me, but I managed to remember my husband’s instructions.
“James! Oh, James!” I cried out as the oblivion of completion overtook me.
Chapter 14
Tempest
“I promise that we will eat many meals in the dining room, just not until the help returns.” James set a tray laden with meats, cheeses, bread and fruit on a table in his bedroom.
I had been sleeping, and smiled at waking to such a pleasant scene as my husband, naked, carrying a tray of food to me. “You shall spoil me, sir,”
“I am merely being courteous,” he said, making up a plate of food and passing it to me as I sat up against the headboard. “And what did I tell you about using my Christian name?”
“My apologies, James. However, you do not believe that delivering a plate of food to me while I lounge in bed is a mite over-indulgent?” After the events of the last evening—or was it morning—I was sated and playful.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes roaming over my naked torso, and he stroked a finger down the cleft between my breasts. “Mayhap it is over indulgent.” He trailed his finger into the slit between my thighs. “Or perhaps I do not wish you to run out of energy, for I am far from finished with you, my dear.”
I giggled. “If you wish me to partake of a meal, then please do not distract me.”
Reaching down, he pulled up the sheet and covered me to the neck. “There. That ought to keep me from being overly tempted for a few minutes.”
I tucked the sheet beneath my arms and sighed, content. Nibbling a piece of cheese, I realized I was starving. When was my last meal? Considering I had not eaten more than a couple bites before storming out of James’ study the night before, and I had been too nervous to eat much earlier in the day, it had been a full day, possibly more, since I had eaten a proper meal.
I blew out a breath and squeezed my thighs together in a delicious tingle. To say that much had transpired in that time was an understatement of the first measure.
“Why so thoughtful? Is anything amiss? Do you not care for the cheese?” James looked at me with touching concern. Yes, much had changed in the last twenty-four hours.
“Oh no, everything is quite lovely. I was only contemplating the many changes in my life in a very small amount of time.”
He selected a slice of apple from the plate in my hand. “How has your life changed, Lady Knox?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine before he popped the juicy piece of fruit between his lips and gave me a wink.
Unaccustomed to talking about myself, I paused to ponder how much of my history to disclose. Upon consideration of the intimacies we had shared, and expected to share, at least in the short term, and also desirous of enticing my new husband to divulge his past as well, I proceeded with candor.
“My early life, such as I remember, was idyllic.” Gazing back through my mind’s eye, I smiled at the recollection. “My parents were very much in love, yet had more than sufficient love and joy to share with me, their only child.” I took the opportunity to chew upon a slice of ham while I deliberated the next part of my story.
“A virus spread through our county,” I began. “At first, I heard nothing of it. I was a child, after all, and my parents shielded me from such unpleasantness. But eventually, several beloved members of our staff were no longer in our employ. When I asked my mother, she said they had gone away.”
I smiled ruefully before going on. “I was angry. I thought they had found another home to work in and another child to care for that they must have liked better. I very diligently put myself on my best behavior, not wishing for any other members of the household to leave, but still, they did.”
“Eventually, I learned the truth. They had not gone to care for another little girl at another estate, they had died. And soon, my parents joined them in death.”
James took the plate from my hands, set it aside and gathered me into his arms. “I am so sorry, my little Tempest, I had no idea.”
The muscles of his arms flexed around me and, for the first time in many years, I felt safe. Taking a deep breath, I continued the tale.
“The only family member who could take me in was my mother’s sister and her husband, Norbert Freebush.”
“And were they kind to you?”
“No, kind is not a word I would use to describe their treatment of me. They tolerated my presence and did their duty, but there was no kindness or compassion. They have a daughter near my age and I had hoped we would be like sisters, but that was not to be either.”
I snuggled into his arms and whispered against his chest, “I was so incredibly lonely.”
“Had you no friends?”
“The servants were kind to me and if I were to call anyone a friend, it would be Mattie, a lady’s maid. We met one day when I was sent to the kitchen to work as punishment.”
James placed his palm on the back of my head and pressed my face into his neck. Then he did a most extraordinary thing, he brushed my hair. The brush, which had led to quite a misunderstanding hours before, had long been forgotten in the intervening lovemaking, but apparently it was within James’ reach.
Gentle strokes from my scalp down to the ends of my waist length hair were both sensual and relaxing. Although Mattie had assisted with my hair as much as her time allowed, no one had ever had much time for me, whether to style my hair, ask about my day, or pay the slightest attention to me at all. I had told myself it did not matter because they were not people with whom I wished to spend time anyway, but in truth, it did matter. I was a child, alone in the world, and my family’s indifference stung more than I cared to admit.
They were out of my life now, and good riddance.
I sighed and circled my arms around to clasp James’ back, the firm muscles flexing as he stroked the brush in a slow rhythm down my tresses. This was where I belonged.
“This is what I had intended to do last night when I retrieved your brush.”
I nodded against his neck. “I would have much preferred this to the spanking I received.”
“I would have as well,” he said, pausing to tip my face up to look at his. “Make no mistake, Tempest, when you misbehave, I shall punish you, but I would much rather be pleasuring you.”
“Then perhaps that is what you ought to do…”
Chapter 15
Lord Knox
Two days later
The staff had returned from their unexpected holiday and life at Primrose Park hummed with activity and precision. I would have my estate run no other way.
I had arisen early and forced myself out of bed and away from Tempest, who slept like the well-fucked woman she was. We had enjoyed our short honeymoon, and with luck, we would have a child soon. Until then, there was work to be done.
A stack of correspondence awaited me in my study and I began the arduous task of sorting through it all. How had so much accumulated in only a matter of days?
There was also the matter of sharing the news of my nuptials with certain personages, particularly my solicitor and accountant. A letter was dispatched to my bank with instructions for an allowance for my bride as well as accounts to be established in her name at the finest shops in London. A man of my word, I had promised to provide for her needs, and I intended to do exactly that.
She had assuredly kept her part of our bargain, and then some. Remembering the way she had responded to my touch—our couplings—with a surprising mixture of innocence and ardor, a smile twitched the corners of my mouth.
Sitting at my desk, I recalled our transaction from just a few days before. At the time, I had seen her as merely a woman, seated primly in the seat across from me, though that belied some of her naughty tendencies since I had witnessed her scandalous appearance upon arrival. Having caught her in the act again on our wedding night, I made a mental note to have a chat with her about what is mine, and mine alone, to touch.
I raised my fingers to my nose, the faint hint of her essence still upon them from our pre-dawn shenanigans.
The clock on the mantle chimed eleven and I startled. How much time had I spent daydreaming about my wife? I was a busy man with appointments and commitments. My tenants relied upon me to manage the estate and lands, as did my mother who expected to be provided for in a most extravagant manner.
I harrumphed at the thought of my mother. She was the beloved bane of my existence. Flamboyant, outlandish, and sometimes gaudy, but never dull. The care of the family fortunes had been in her hands for several years between the time of my father’s death and my own coming of age, and the dowager countess had nearly sent the entire enterprise into the poor house with her discombobulated money management. Fortunately, I had assumed the helm upon reaching my majority and she had been happy to be free of the burden of so many decisions.
Through careful stewardship of the estate’s assets and an investment in the kennels where I bred bloodhounds which were increasingly in demand by police and the military for their ability to locate missing persons, Primrose Park and the family holdings were in good stead once again. Had it not been, I would never have married. But now that the debts had been paid and the accounts were in the black, I felt confident in having a grand estate to pass along to my heir rather than a pile of unpaid bills which had awaited me when I took over the family accounts.
My mother would be chagrined at not having been included in my plans to take a wife, and most particularly in being excluded from the wedding ceremony itself, but even I could not subject an unwitting bride to such a whirlwind as my mother, at least not before I locked in her for a lifetime.
Before I changed my mind, I pulled out a sheet of writing paper and penned a missive to my mother.
My Dear Mother,
I trust you will be pleased to learn of my recent nuptials. Now that the matters of the estate are lucrative once again and all has been set to rights, I felt it time for me to take a wife and produce an heir to carry on after me.
I am sure you will be most eager to meet your new daughter. To that end, I shall bring her to London in a few weeks for the dog trials as well for you to make her acquaintance.
Yours devotedly,
James
I ought to send the missive as an express, but propriety lost out to self-preservation. If I knew my mother, and I did, she would be on her way to the country to meet Tempest as soon as she finished reading my announcement. I hoped that my promise of arriving in London soon, as well as the fact that it was the height of The Season and my mother hated to miss out on any of the festivities, would buy me a bit of time and privacy.
There was one other important matter which required my attention. I rang for Baxter and handed the man a list of instructions, some cash and a sealed envelope.
Tempest
I woke and found myself alone in James’ bed. It would be nice to consider it our bed, but since my time in his bed chamber was limited by how quickly I became pregnant, I dared not become too attached to the location or the man who occupied it.
I sat up against the headboard and chewed my lip. I had believed the arrangement with Lord Knox was more than suitable. We would engage in marital congress until an heir was conceived, after that I would be free to pursue my own interests with all the status of being a married woman, and a titled one at that. It seemed ideal.
Until he deflowered me and spent the next forty-eight hours pleasuring me in ways I never imagined. I nearly wished I had never known the pleasure of a marriage bed. At least before I had been blissfully unaware of what I was missing.
But, now that I did know, there was no way to un-know, no way to forget the thrill of his touch, the look of ecstasy on his face when he spent his seed.
I gave myself a shake. Why get worked into a fit of the blue devils when none of those things had happened? I most assuredly was not with child, of that much I was certain. I knew next to nothing about how one conceived a baby, though I knew it had something to do with James’ seed, and based upon the fervency and frequency of our couplings, I surmised that a copious amount of his essence was required for his seed to take root.
Based upon James’ reluctance to leave my side a few hours ago when he had risen, I had to assume the task had not been completed yet.
Why was I borrowing trouble? I got out of bed, put on a wrapper and made my way to my own bed chamber down the hall. Ringing the bell for Mrs. Whitmore, I waited for the housekeeper to assist her in preparing for the day.
It didn’t take me long to realize that while Mrs. Whitmore might be an outstanding housekeeper and overall a dear lady, she did not know beans about how to style my uncooperative hair. As a result of wedding day anxiety and a full veil, I had not noticed Mrs. Whitmore’s lack of skill.
Now, however, watching the poor woman attempt to corral my tresses into some semblance of order, I winced at the end result and the incessant tugging. Based upon the expression on Mrs. Whitmore’s face, she took no pleasure in the exercise either.
“Thank you, Mrs. Whitmore,” I said, taking the brush from the beleaguered housekeeper.
“I apologize, Lady Knox. I am much more suited to overseeing the maids than matters of appearance.” As if to emphasize her limited skills, she brushed a hand along the tight knot of hair at her own nape. I counted myself thankful Mrs. Whitmore had not attempted to force my hair into a similar coiffure.
