Page 49 of His Forsaken Bride

“That is what I want,” he interrupted her rudely. “I want it now.” Inwardly somewhere, Oswald Vawdrey the courtier, was wincing at his lack of finesse. Unfortunately for Fenella, his crude Vawdrey blood was up. Thank gods she wasn’t a virgin, though the thought that worm Ambrose Thane had touched what was his, made his blood boil even hotter. He remained rooted to the spot, his eyes trained on her as if she was his prey.

“V-very well,” she stammered. Then looked away, her cheeks bright red. “Shall I undress and-”

“Yes, for starters,” he said and started ripping off his own clothes. She began unpinning her veil and took a few steps toward her side of the bed. He reached out with a sharp “No,” to prevent this and she halted, turning back to face him in surprise. He had removed his tunic and shirt now and was unfastening his chauses. “Put your clothing on that chair,” he said with a sharp nod toward it. Fen opened her mouth as if to argue but then thought better of it. She laid her veil over the cushioned seat and then started unfastening her velvet headdress. He stripped his chauses off his legs and removed his tented braies in a trice. Once he was naked, he advanced on Fenella and started yanking down her bodice. Once he’d divested her of the gown he flung it on the chair and put his hands to the hem of her thin shift.

“May I please keep the shift on?” she asked in a strangled tone.

He frowned. The shift was practically transparent and hid nothing. His instinct was to refuse her request, he wanted nothing between them. He forced this impulse down and released the hem, instead put his hands to her waist, walking her backwards toward the bed. Her breathing was shallow but she didn’t protest and he followed her down onto the mattress, his eyes not leaving hers. Her gaze skittered away and then returned before flickering round the room.

“Will you not snuff the candles out?” she whispered.

“No,” he replied tersely.

“Can we get under the covers?”

“Are you cold?” he asked. He doubted it. His far bigger body was covering hers entirely and he could feel how much heat he was throwing out. He felt like his body was ablaze for her. He guessed that dolt Thane had only taken her under the covers with no light. Wearing a smock.

“No,” she admitted with a frown. “I’m not cold, but you’re shivering.” She placed a hand on his upper arm and he almost had to bite back an exclamation.

“Not with the cold,” he admitted though gritted teeth.

“What then?” she asked faintly.

“Need,” he answered in a low voice.

“Need?” her eyes flew wide.

“My need to join with you.”

Her mouth formed a silent ‘oh’ and he felt her tremble slightly beneath him. She slid her hand down his upper arm in what she might have imagined was a comforting gesture, but he was far too over-stimulated for her touch.

“Fenella,” he breathed and then his mouth was on hers, insistent and demanding her participation. She whimpered when his kiss turned open-mouthed and carnal, her fingers, tightening again on his arms, but she did not try to pull away. He ravished her sweet, tender mouth and rocked his hips against her in simulation of what his body craved so badly from hers. She struggled slightly against him and he pulled back, only to realize she had understood his unspoken demand and was sweetly parting her legs beneath him. He groaned, sliding his hand under her shift and cupping her intimately, his thumb sliding through the dark brown curls. She sucked in a shocked breath as he petted her there, her gaze seeking his for reassurance. After a moment she relaxed against his touch, so he hoped his scorching gaze managed to give her what she needed, before he pushed a finger into her tight, slick heat. Her eyes flew wide again at his groan and he felt his brow start to bead with sweat at the idea of holding out much longer. She felt small though, and he didn’t want to hurt her. He remembered Thane had been absent for two years and forced himself to breathe steadily and take her mouth in a gentler kiss as he kept up his ministrations until he felt her start to pant and move against him. “Are you ready for me, love?” he asked. Though in truth, he knew he was still rushing her.

“Yes,” she answered and he aligned himself and started to push inside her. She made some small noise of discomfort which he could well believe, as she was struggling to take him. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he forced himself to say. “And I will stop.” But her only reply was to grip his arms tighter, so he continued to bury his length into her until he was deep, and their groins tightly flush against one another. He was actually shaking now, from the effort of holding back. He kissed her again and felt her take a deep breath. “Thank you for being patient,” she whispered. “You’re very big and for a moment there…” words seemed to fail her.

“You’ve taken me,” he said gruffly. If she compared him now to Thane he wasn’t sure how he would react.

“Yes,” she breathed and gave a small wriggle which made him groan. “Are you, alright?” she asked uncertainly.

“No,” he answered tersely. “I need to move.”

“Oh, of course.” Tentatively, she slid her hands up from his biceps to his shoulders,

The words had barely left her mouth, and he was surging forward, pressing her back into the pillows and thrusting into her tight heat. Time stood still. He caught his breath and felt his heart reverberate through his entire being. He closed his eyes and did it again. She was softer than mink, sleeker than silk, her breath on his neck felt exquisite, her flesh against his made him want to pass out from sheer pleasure. He drew back and thrust again, luxuriating in the feeling with a low roar which came from deep in his chest. Her body under his was a revelation. So, this was where his wife belonged.

“Oswald?” her voice was breathy. The fact she had spoken his given name made him gasp. He had to steel himself against the impulse to prematurely spill his seed, as he throbbed deep within her. He gritted his teeth. Speech was beyond him, even if his life depended on it. The pleasure had struck him dumb. All he could do was move his body against hers in sensuous worship and beg her with his eyes not to ask him to stop. Looking into the depths of her own, was dangerous. He could lose himself there. To distract himself, he brushed kisses against her brow, her jaw and finally her delicious mouth. She bumped against him, falling out of sync every so often with his steady rhythm. Every collision of their flesh was a delight. Unable to resist, he ran a palm down her full bouncing bosom and she shuddered and whimpered and rubbed against him, as if seeking his touch. The look on her face was one of astonishment mingled with shy delight. It drove him crazy to see it there.

“Say my name again.” He barely recognized his own voice it was so gravelly.

“Oswald,” she marveled. “Husband.”

His own body’s response took him aback. If anything, his ardor climbed higher. All finesse was going out the window. His desire was riding him hard, like he was Fenella. Reaching down, he hooked her leg over his forearm, opening her up to take his thrusts as he needed her to. He needed her to take it all. For the life of him, he could not stop groaning as he pummeled into her. He set his jaw to stave off the overwhelming pleasure. He needed this. So badly. He forced himself to slacken off the punishing pace. “Fenella?” Her hand slid up his back as she gave a soft sob that had him pulling back to look at her face. “Am I hurting you?” It was an effort to form words. His body was given over purely to sensation. He broke out now in a light sweat, as he resisted the impulse to pound into her to oblivion as he craved to.

“No,” she assured him shakily. “It’s just –” her face twisted. “I hardly know. I feel so strange-” Her hips shifted against him and she gave a soft. “Oh!” and collapsed back against the mattress, gripping the sheets.

His pained expression cleared. Her own body was plainly seeking the same release as his. “There?” he asked with relief, following her lead. He moved his own hips experimentally in a similar motion, and felt a deep shudder run through her whole body. She gave a strangled gasp and struggled to sit up. “No – please,” she sobbed. “You must - stop that at once. Or I hardly know what will happen!”

A sudden suspicion had his mind reeling. Surely, surely that bastard Thane could not be so inept, that she knew not the pleasures of the marriage bed?