Bound by Bliss (45 page)
Authors: Lavinia Kent
His fingers began a similar pattern of thrust and withdrawal. Tight desire, endless wanting. Slight release. Want. Relax. Want. Want.
Her body was moving with his now, her hips rising and falling in balance with his fingers.
It took only seconds for her body to reach that point again, she felt the strain grow, knew the urge to press her thighs tight against his, to push his fingers tighter. Her tongue met his urging it on. Now, her body cried. Now.
And then she felt him, felt the push, felt the pressure.
It would never fit. It would never work.
And then it did.
There was a brief tear, a sudden spike of pain, and she felt him move forward, pushing into her, a thousand flickers of sensation.
He pushed farther. She felt herself stretch and give. It stung, but not with any great level of discomfort.
And farther. Her hips lifted and fell, her pelvis tilted back, striving to accommodate him, to accommodate Stephan, her husband.
He gave one more thrust and she felt him fill her completely, his balls slapping against her thigh, her muscles shuddering about him. He stilled, giving her time to adjust.
It was odd, not unpleasant, but odd. She tensed her inner muscles, saw his eyes start. That was interesting. She did it again. His whole body jerked. Very interesting.
“You are trying to kill me,” Stephan growled. “We’ll never get to enjoy our old age together if you keep doing that. I thought you wanted me alive.”
She smiled. Suddenly the world was a very wonderful place.
Sensing her ease, he withdrew, his length sliding easily over her flesh, sending those thousand flickers running throughout her body. He sank back in. Oh, that was good. That was very good.
He repeated the motion, slowly and with care. She began to understand why people wanted to do this. Very, very nice.
She let her head relax into the pillows.
He increased the pace. She felt the tension rise within her again, felt desire flood her.
He pushed harder, thrust stronger.
His hand came down between them again, fingered her.
Oh.
Oh, indeed.
The flickers became flames, the flames became fires, the fires an inferno.
She was all need.
All want.
All desire.
Higher and higher she swept with each thrust within her.
His hand pinched, holding her tight. A burn of pain. A fire of desire. The inferno raged.
Her eyes opened wide, met his, held his. She could see the strain upon his face, see his effort to hold back, to keep control.
She tightened those inner muscles again, clenched him tight, felt his body spasm.
His fingers pinched tighter between her legs. Pain. Pleasure. It was all one. All the same.
Tighter.
Higher.
Tighter.
It was coming. There was no escape.
She was panting, her heart pounding. She stared into his soul.
He thrust deep, filling her as she had never dreamed of being filled. He pinched tight, held her there. Her whole body strained—and it broke.
Feelings cascaded, her whole being lifted and came apart, a thousand pieces. Rainbows swirled. Stars burst.
And through it all she held his gaze, saw his pleasure, felt him break as she convulsed about him, and felt the last deep thrust, felt the spurt and spasm filling her. His back arched, his hips pushing deeper.
Her name filled the room, one long syllable of
Blissss
.
Another wave broke within her, her hips rose again, a scream left her lips—and then she fell, boneless, finished. Her eyes met his, complete.
—
He sagged upon her, knowing he was too heavy, but without the muscles to move. She’d drained him. He’d never felt anything like that, never felt himself come apart and yet live. He drew a deep breath into empty lungs and with supreme effort rolled off her and to the side. She mumbled a protest, but made no move.
Sweat coated him from head to toe. The cool air of the room brushed over heated flesh. He should say something. He knew these moments demanded words. He knew how to use words. Only none came.
He lifted an arm and reached above Bliss’s head, freeing her hands from the tangle of pearls. He grasped her fingers and brought an arm down with his, the fingers of their hands tangled together. He held her there for a moment, the simple meeting of palms enough, a soothing balm upon his soul.
“Wife.” There, that was a word, a word that said all that burned within him.
Her head turned slowly, her eyes focused on their clasped hands. “Husband,” she answered.
Her fingers tightened upon his.
Silence.
They lay there for a moment or perhaps ten. He could not be sure. It did not matter.
“You are my love,” he said as words returned to his mind.
Silence.
A moment of disappointment. No, he knew she could not say the words, could not admit them even to herself. He understood her wound and could only hope that someday time and the constant reassurance of his love would help heal the crack within her.
“You still don’t believe that it will last, do you?” He asked the question he most feared the answer to.
She was silent again for a moment and then spoke with care. “I believe it more than I did yesterday and I think tomorrow I will believe it more. Give me time and perhaps I will fully believe it. That is all I can ask for, time.”
“Why? What has changed your feelings?”
She collapsed back upon the bed, staring up at the ceiling, but her hand found his again and clenched it tight. “It will sound strange, but it was Temple. I am still not ready to talk about what happened. It was not as dreadful as you might fear, but it changed me.”
“What? I do not understand.” He wondered if she’d yet heard that Temple had apparently fallen down a flight of stairs the day before and broken both his legs and four fingers on one hand. One would have thought the poor man had been beaten within an inch of his life if one had not known better. A curl of satisfaction formed in Stephan’s belly. And the man was taking up commission with the army in India as soon as he was healed, a most strange thing for an earl to do. Stephan could only hope he was not grinning too broadly.
“Am I telling you the secrets of my heart and you grin like a fool?” Bliss asked, her pique clear.
“I am sorry. A passing thought of your beauty. Tell me what happened with Temple that made you decide to take a chance.”
“I had already decided to take it, I think. I had already said yes, but when I suddenly found myself faced with fear and horror I realized I didn’t want to have missed things. I wanted joy, and if I had to take risks to find joy, then I would take risks. I make it sound far simpler than it was. I didn’t have a sudden epiphany and reach deep understanding, but over these last days, slowly, softly, it has come to me. I want love. I want a family. I want you. And if the only way to have those things is to accept that someday I may lose them, then I will have to accept that—even if I am not quite sure that I like it.”
Yes, that was his Bliss. She had not actually said she loved him, but he knew both that she did and that someday the words would come. “I am glad.” He squeezed her fingers.
She rolled on her side and stared at him. “I am glad too.”
He grinned at her.
“Don’t look so smug. There are still many questions I have if we are to do this thing, this marriage.”
“Yes? You know your wish is my command,” he replied.
“Oh, don’t give me that. I know very well who it is in this bed that does the commanding. You’ve made that very clear.”
He was glad she understood that. “So what questions do you have, my love, my wife?”
“Well, first, how many times a night can we do that? And is it always the same? Always that good? And now that we’ve done that do you still want to do the other things? I have to confess I rather enjoyed taking you into my mouth and watching how you reacted to my every touch and stroke. What about the wax? I am not altogether sure I want to do that again, but I am not altogether sure that I don’t. Could I pour it on you? How would your cock react? Have you done that before? And what of spanking? Is it only for punishment or could we do it other times as well? And what about Madame Rouge’s? Will we go there again? Can I watch again? I have to admit that…”
Duldon let his eyes drift closed, just for a moment. He did love his Bliss, love his wife. He doubted it would have been possible to choose better. He knew a smug smile was spreading across his face as he listened to her—and let his fantasies free. She did have the most glorious imagination. He could hardly wait to begin answering her questions.
He squeezed her hand tight and then drew it beneath the sheet he’d drawn up over their hips.
Her voice quieted as she felt just what was waiting there. It was time to begin answering the first of her questions.
B
Y
L
AVINIA
K
ENT
Bound by Bliss
Revealing Ruby
(novella)
Mastering the Marquess
About the Author
L
AVINIA
K
ENT
is a former two-term president of the Washington Romance Writers and a four-time Romance Writers of America Golden Heart nominee. She lives in Washington, D.C., with her family and an ever-changing menagerie of pets.
The Editor’s Corner
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Until next month ~Happy Romance!
Gina Wachtel
Associate Publisher
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