Rogues Gallery (29 page)

His heart thundered. How could this angel love a rogue such as him?

A shudder racked his body, and not only because her hands had found their way inside his shirt. No, it was the chilling notion of another man daring to place a hand on his angel—his wife. Any murderous feelings he had previously experienced paled in comparison to the rage surging through him. He clenched his teeth, vowing to kill any man who dared to look at her with even an improper thought.

***

H
er husband clasped her face once more, this time with less gentleness, and pressed his lips against hers. Though startled by the abruptness, Marisa submitted to his passionate kiss, intuitively aware of the possessiveness he was expressing. Her heart soared, for there was nothing more she wanted than to be his, body and soul, for the rest of time.

Gabriel at last broke away, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. Marisa knew she was reacting in much the same fashion, and found it curiously arousing; so did Gabriel, judging by the slow smile appearing on his face.

Without a word, he placed one arm beneath her legs and the other about her back. He stood and walked with deliberate steps toward the bed. Her heart hammered, fearful at what was to occur next, yet wanting it more than anything. Particularly if it resembled anything he had done in her bed on previous occasions.

Yet this time would be different, for she knew without a doubt she had Gabriel's love.

He set her down on the bed and removed her hands from about his neck. She licked her lips, wondering what was expected of her next. Before she could inquire, he placed a finger to her mouth.

He removed his gloves, tossing them behind him without looking to see where they landed. Then he leaned forward and tugged at the ribbon holding her nightrail closed. The transparent garment fell away from her shoulders, draping across her half-concealed breasts.

She instinctively protested by grabbing for the falling material. But he shook his head, placing her hands to her sides. Awestruck, she followed his silent instruction, her stomach clenching with fear and dread and excitement.

He traced his finger down her shoulder. She closed her eyes against the shiver he elicited. She felt her nipples peaking in reaction, followed by the answering blush in her cheeks at the blatant response of her body.

"Angel," he whispered, "'tis nothing to be ashamed of. It is a glorious sight."

She opened her eyes, just in time to see Gabriel pull the nightrail away from her chest, leaving it to pool about her hips. Her shock was complete when he crooned his admiration of her fully-aroused breasts. Her hands fluttered as she tried to cover herself, though she wasn't sure she really wanted to; it seemed more the ingrained reaction to years of warnings about propriety.

As if aware of her misgivings, Gabriel murmured, "So beautiful. And your passion. What a gift it is."

She felt incredibly light-headed in the face of his praise, all the more because she could see in his face he meant every word of it.

She tried to withhold a moan, but Gabriel heard it, for his outstretched hand halted just within reach of her.

"Angel? You have but to say the word—" He paused, and Marisa could see how much effort it cost him to continue speaking. "You have but to call a halt, and I shall do so."

"If you call a halt," Marisa answered, "I know I will go mad." To impress upon him the seriousness of her words, she leaned forward until his hand found her breast.

In a heartbeat, Gabriel had both of her breasts covered with his gentle hands. It seemed his hands had been made for such a task, for they felt at once familiar, yet wickedly brazen.

Without realizing how, or when, Marisa was prone, and Gabriel leaned over her, his mouth against her breast. His hair spilled onto her chest, and she gathered it in one hand, tucking the blond strands behind his ear while he continued his loving ministrations.

She tugged at Gabriel's shirt, impatient to feel his skin, wondering with a trickle of excitement what his bared chest would feel like against hers. Gabriel lifted his head, gazing in her eyes as if completely aware of her thoughts. Without a word he removed the shirt, tossing it aside as carelessly as he had the gloves.

He lowered himself onto her, sucking in his breath when her breasts flattened against his chest. He placed his hands beneath her shoulders, ensuring he was sealed close to her, and she had never felt so treasured in her entire life. Marisa felt her heart hammering, thrilled beyond measure at the rapid answer of his heartbeat.

His skin was silky against hers, yet the tensile strength of his muscles was more than apparent. She traced his bandage with one finger before placing a tender kiss to the wound. When he smiled at her loving gesture, she looped her arms about his neck, splaying her fingers through his hair before smoothing them down his back.

At his swift intake of breath, she halted. But then she remembered just such a reaction when she had previously done something he liked, so she continued her explorations, marveling at the play of muscles beneath the smooth texture of his skin.

She finally dared to touch lower, barely able to reach his firm buttocks. When she did so, Gabriel pulled away from her, arching until they no longer touched.

"Gabriel," she said, surprising herself with the pouting sound of her voice.

He grimaced, although she suspected he had intended it to be something more joyful. "Ah, I merely meant to prevent from alarming you," he rasped.

"Because of the jumping?"

His lips lifted into an appreciative smile, and she pulled him back onto her.

"Surely you did not think I was unaware?"

"With your avid curiosity? How utterly senseless of me." He nuzzled her neck, setting her off into peals of laughter.

***

G
abriel let Marisa continue sating her curiosity, although the delightful process cost him dearly. Times without number he was near to bursting, but he managed to withstand it by reciting long-forgotten nursery rhymes, reviewing the process of loading his pistol, counting the number of coaches he had robbed—anything to keep him from prematurely ending his angel's passionate instruction.

Finally, when he could bear no more, he stood and removed the nightrail from her body. The sight of her made him catch his breath. He gazed at her with reverence, thinking his prayers had been answered at last, and in a most unexpected fashion. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss first to her lips, and then to each perky nipple, and finally to her navel.

He was about to place his mouth lower when she squirmed away from him, scurrying beneath the counterpane. Her modesty was understandable, for she was unused to being naked with anyone.

Still, she gazed at him above the bedcovers with fearless curiosity, so he commenced removing the last of her maidenly illusions, along with every last stitch of his clothing.

Her eyes widened when he stood naked before her, and he could see her mind whirring as she realized the cause for the startling sensation while seated in his lap earlier. Her eyes lifted to his when his body unwittingly responded in the same fashion.

Yet, instead of fear or revulsion, or any of the other reactions he would have expected from a lass in her position, her lips lifted in a beckoning fashion she could not know was so damned alluring. She dropped the counterpane and held her arms out to him. He was beside her in a trice.

"You are so beautiful, angel. More than I dreamed."

"As are you," she admitted. "Though I must confess I did not know of what I was supposed to dream."

He gathered her into his arms with a chuckle, only to be swamped with heady sensation at the feel of her bared flesh from head to toe. He rubbed his hands down her smooth back, holding her firm buttocks in both hands as he pressed her lightly against his erection. At first she drew back, but then she returned and commenced her own movements, driving him to the brink of madness.

"Angel," he whispered against her lips, almost unable to breathe, let alone speak. "I would ask a boon."

"Anything, Gabriel. Anything at all."

"Do not move. Please. Do not move."

She giggled, and no wonder—his voice had sounded truly desperate as he gasped the last words. He almost laughed himself, for it was so glorious to have her in his arms at long last. He wanted her to remain there forever, but he did not know if they would have more than this one night.

He pushed the unwelcome thought aside. They would deal with all unpleasantness when dawn arrived—and not a minute before. He could not let his love for her go undemonstrated, not after all they had been through. She was his lawful wife, and it was only fitting they consummate their marriage in his rightful home, not some temporary abode that provided him shelter.

Marisa broke into his reverie. "I was not moving, Gabriel. It was an involuntary action, as was yours."

"Was it now?"

She moved closer, rotating her hips against him in an age-old fashion he knew came from instinct. Giving in to his own instincts, he mirrored her movements, gratified when she gasped with pleasure and then took his mouth for a kiss.

He continued to stroke and kiss and drive her to a fever-pitch of agitation, all the while managing to keep his own excitement at a manageable level. He desperately wanted to be inside her, much as he dreaded the moment of pain he would cause her to experience.

He rolled onto his back, drawing her on top of him. She propped her elbows on his chest, resting her face in her upraised hands.

"Marisa—" He halted, not certain of what he was going to say.

Her smile faded. "Gabriel?" She reached out and caressed his brow. "What is it?"

He took her hand and kissed her fingertips. He wanted to provide comfort to her, yet characteristically she was worried about him. "Angel, I do not wish to hurt you."

"I know you do not."

Gabriel nearly swayed at the complete trust her sweet face exhibited. He gave her a quick kiss before continuing. "This next, ah, lesson, will prove painful, though it is truly unavoidable."

Her brow wrinkled for a moment as she considered his words. Enlightenment soon dawned in her eyes. "Does it last long, this pain?"

"No," he said. In the next breath he realized with chagrin he did not know if that were true or merely the wishful thinking of the males who never experienced it directly. He had never held a virgin in his arms, but he said, "I will do all I can to ensure it does not last long. I promise you."

"Will this lesson hurt you as well?"

"Only indirectly. Because of the pain I must cause you. But," he said, his voice lowering to a whisper, "I assure you it will be preceded and then followed by the most exquisite pleasure you can imagine."

She shivered and then nodded her assent. Gabriel's hands smoothed over her buttocks and down the back of her thighs and then back up again. His fingers lingered near the opening of her thighs before he turned over, placing her beneath him.

He spent the next eternity arousing her once more to a delirious pitch, wanting to minimize her pain, needing her to remember only the pleasure and the love he had given her. When he was nearing the breaking point, he held himself utterly still atop her delectable body.

Gabriel started to warn her, but her eyes were glazed with passion, and he did not want to break the spell. Trembling, he eased himself into her. She moved impatiently beneath him, clearly wanting release, yet not knowing how to attain it. With infinite care he edged further into her untried body, certain he would not last long enough to complete the deed.

He retreated, but Marisa clutched his back to prevent him from leaving. He grasped her legs and wrapped them around his waist, pushing past her maidenhead, swallowing her scream with his mouth.

He halted, hating that he was the cause for the whimper coming from his angel's lips. He crooned soft words to her, pressing tender kisses to her neck and ear. In the next heartbeat, she moved tentatively, then with more assurance, as if there were no hurt remaining.

When she reached up and touched his face with wonderment in her eyes, he could no longer wait. He rocked her in his arms, pulsing inside of her tightness, and then gliding out to recommence the pleasure. Marisa clenched her legs about his waist, drawing him deeper into her, innocently urging him to take more of her.

Gabriel nearly whimpered, wanting her so much he thought he might die of it. His movements became more frantic, more urgent. When he feared his passion might frighten her, she responded with an equally fierce desire.

Her quickened breaths told him she was close to completion, and he drove into her, pressing her closer to the release she sought. Her hands gripped the sheets and then finally him. Gabriel quickened the rhythm, relentlessly propelling her to a culmination she could never forget.

Her first cry nearly undid him, so glorious did he find her response. He clamped his mouth on Marisa's, swallowing each and every one of her magnificent sounds of passion.

A moment later his body stiffened, and he found himself suspended on the precipice his wife had just fled. His wife. He caught his breath, tumbling after her, shuddering as he found his own shattering fulfillment in the arms of his earthbound angel.

When she finally loosened her hold on him, dropping her arms to the bed as though they had no strength at all, he smiled. With complete and utter satisfaction. With wonderment.

With total, soul-enriching love.

Though he had earlier confessed his love for her, until that instant he had not realized she had been the one to return his ability to love, something he had thought lost to him forever. He pulled her close against him, needing her nearness in that sublimely vulnerable moment.

As well as every moment of his life that followed.

Marisa snuggled closer in her husband's arms. Gabriel had just brought her pleasure beyond her imaginings, filling her body, and her heart, with a bliss that surely was reserved for angels in heaven.

Yet it was not merely sensual pleasure he had given her. She knew without a doubt that he loved her, just as she knew that he did not give of himself to anyone.