Secrets of a Wedding Night (23 page)

Devon’s hand moved lower, pulling up her night rail. So slowly. Lily knew he was making sure he didn’t scare her. And she appreciated it so much. His hand dipped down to her knee and he barely raised the fabric above it. His fingers rubbed her knee, staking their claim, telling her without words he would make sure she was all right with each and every touch before he went any further. She shuddered. He was being so gentle. So very gentle.

Devon’s hand moved around to the back of her leg and lightly caressed her there. A shiver went up her spine. Who knew a simple touch could feel so wicked?

He played with the hem of her night rail and it drove Lily mad. She wanted to drag it up herself. She wanted to move his hand up her thigh. Put it between her legs exactly where she wanted it.

If he was going to torture her like this, she needed another drink. She turned toward the bedside table and grabbed the bottle of wine Devon had placed there. She hoisted it to her lips and let the liquid pour into the back of her throat. Then she gave him a playful look over the bottle’s rim.

Devon arched a brow. “Thirsty?”

“Want some?” Lily countered.

“By all means. If we’re going all bacchanal tonight, let’s just drink straight from the bottle.”

The wine helped, but still Lily trembled. What if Devon found out her secret? Oh, God, he would find out her secret. There was no help for it. Perhaps if he became drunk enough, he wouldn’t notice. Perhaps if she became drunk enough, she wouldn’t care. Yes, more wine was the answer.

“Here.” She pushed the bottle into his hand.

Devon hefted it to his mouth and took a long drink. Lily watched his throat flex, his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. She wanted to throw herself on his chest and lick him all over. A drop of wine made its way down his cheek. She took full advantage. She pushed herself forward and licked it from his jaw, but she wasn’t quick enough. It streaked down his neck and onto his chest.

Thank you, God.

Her lips trailed lower, tracing the path of the red wine along his neck. She breathed him in. He smelled like spice and skin and just … man.
Oh, God.
The tip of her tongue traced along the collarbone in his strong, thick neck. He sucked in his breath.

Excellent.

She pulled the bottle from his fingers, and tipped it toward the indentation in his neck just above his collarbone, letting a bit of wine splash into the spot. Devon gasped. His dark eyes widened.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a husky voice that made her wet.

“Trust me,” she whispered, and bent down to lick the wine out of the little cup she’d made in his body.

“Lily, I don’t think—”

“Shh.” This time she spilled the wine down his chest and he gasped louder. She set the bottle back on the table. She smiled. “This little mess will take a bit of cleanup.”

“You just gave me the most enchanting look I think I’ve ever seen,” Devon said before Lily bent her head to lick the wine off his muscled chest. Luckily, some of it had spilled down his abdomen. She gladly followed it, lapping up the red streaks with her tongue. And it tasted good. Sweet and wonderful. She was a bit surprised by her boldness, but that was the beauty of wine. She wasn’t about to let this moment, this night, pass without enjoying it. This was her second wedding night, after all. So, no wedding had taken place. It didn’t matter. She would have the night she’d always dreamed of and this time with the man she’d always dreamed of.

Lily’s tongue tracked its way down Devon’s pectoral muscles and lightly skimmed his nipples. His head snapped to attention when her teeth grazed there. He sucked in his breath again. He must have liked that. Was it possible he enjoyed her mouth on his nipples as much as she did? Devon made a move to pull her underneath him, but she shimmied her hips away from his reach.

“Why are you torturing me?” His eyes were hooded, full of lust.

A streak of pride swelled in Lily’s chest.

“I intend to enjoy myself,” she replied. “And right now, I am. Very much so.”

Devon groaned. “What if I told you you’re killing me? Besides, I’m supposed to be making it good for you, Lily.”

Hearing her name on his lips made her press her legs together in abject lust. She pushed a tapered fingertip to his lips. “Shut up. I’m trying to seduce you.”

“Oh, God, you already have,” he groaned again. And then he had no more words when she bent her head back down to his abdomen. The muscles there stood out in sharp relief, all six of them. Lily shuddered. The man was perfect. His body looked as if Michelangelo had sculpted it. And here she was licking it.
What
a pleasure.

Her mouth dipped to his navel and she sucked up the wine that had gathered there. She continued her descent and moved even lower until she was confronted with the buttons on his breeches. A thin path of hair trailed below his pants. She so wanted to see where it led. Her hands found the buttons and she greedily unfastened them. His hands found hers and he gently pushed her back onto the bed.

“No. You. Don’t,” he said in a voice that sent reverberations through her body.

He was on top of her now, pushing against her most private place. Lily groaned. She wanted to pull off his pants even more now. But she knew, Devon had allowed her her fun. Now he was taking control.

Oh. God. Yes.

His mouth ravaged hers again. “You taste so good,” he whispered. “Like wine.”

Her hands pushed through the dark locks of his hair to cradle his face against hers. To keep him there and not let him go. “I can’t taste nearly as good as you do,” she whispered through kiss-swollen lips.

His fingers threaded through hers and he pressed her hands back onto the mattress. He had her now. Straddling her, pinning her down, holding her where he wanted her and pressing himself against her. “I love wine,” he breathed.

Devon’s dark head bent as he pushed his face between her breasts, beneath her night rail. When his lips slid to her nipple, she gasped again. His mouth was there, sucking, driving her mad. She grasped his head to her, never wanting him to stop.

Devon moved to her other breast and sucked there too, lightly biting her nipple and making her close her eyes. Savoring the ripples of pleasure that washed through her.

He raised himself over her on his forearms. “Lily, you’re so beautiful. You’re perfect.”

This time, he slowly pulled her night rail up past her knee. Lily wanted to die of pleasure. His large, warm hand was on the outside of her thigh. She wanted to sob.

“Touch me, Devon. Please,” she whispered against his mouth.

“You’re not frightened, are you?”

She could have cried. Of course she wasn’t frightened, but it was thoughtful of him to be worried about her. She’d just have to show him how all right she was. Her hand wandered down to find his. She pulled it up and placed it between her legs. She was naked. Naked, wet, hot, and wanting him.

Devon groaned. His fingers moved through her slickness and one single finger slipped inside of her. Lily groaned. He moved in her, back and forth. She clutched his shoulders, burying her face against his neck. “Oh, God, Devon.”

His eyes were closed, his teeth clenched as if he were in a fierce battle to control himself. He pulled his finger out, so slowly, too slowly. Lily’s hips bucked. She wanted more.

His finger found the spot between her legs, then. The one that made her sob and want nothing more than for him to touch her and never stop. He pushed in tiny, perfect circles, around and around. Lily’s head moved fitfully against the pillow.

She bit her lip. Whatever he was doing, she never wanted him to stop.

Her thighs clenched, sweat pooled between her breasts. She tried to move her hips to be closer, closer to him. Her eyes fluttered open. Devon was braced above her, an intense look on his face. He was staring into her soul.

But he kept his finger moving in perfect little circles until Lily’s breath hitched in her throat. She gasped in fitful spurts. Her hands clutched at his shoulders.

“Please, Devon, please.”

“God, Lily, yes. Come for me, come for me, love.”

And she did. She shattered and broke into a thousand tiny pieces, crying out and burying her face in his neck, still breathing heavily and sobbing. She pulled at his hips.

Yes, she’d just found release, but she wanted more. Needed more. She had to feel him inside of her. Had to be his. They must do this tonight. It was her dream.

Devon pulled away from her then and she sobbed, “No.”

He turned back to look at her and traced his thumb over her cheek. “Lily, we don’t have to do this.”

She pulled him back down on top of her with all her strength. “Yes. We do. Devon, make me yours.”

Trembling, Devon let out a shaky breath. He seemed relieved to hear those words and pulled his hips away only momentarily while he fumbled with the buttons on his breeches. He pulled them off quickly and Lily glanced down to see his perfect, lean yet muscled body. He was Michelangelo’s David. In the flesh. And what lovely flesh it was.

He moved back over her then, and braced himself above her. Lily had the vision of his soft, intense brown eyes before she felt his heat probing at her, moving against her thighs, searching. And then he pushed inside of her.

Lily jerked at the pain. She twisted her head to the side, pressing her cheek against the pillow beneath her. Did the look on her face betray her secret? Would Devon know? He didn’t move. She dared a glance up at him. In the flickering candlelight, she watched his face. But what was he feeling? Anger? Surprise?
Oh, God, please don’t let him be angry.

“Lily,” he whispered.

She put her palms to both his cheeks. “Devon, will you do something for me?”

“Anything,” he breathed, kissing her forehead.

“Don’t stop. Make love to me.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and groaned. “I can do that.”

He kissed her hands, her cheeks, and then he closed his eyes and began to move. The world had stopped turning. The brief flicker of pain was gone now, replaced only with the heat and strength of him. The perfection of his body moving inside of her. And she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and let the intense joy of the moment overwhelm her. There was no pain or sadness. It was perfect, just the way she’d always envisioned it. And she knew this was right. No matter what happened tomorrow. Or the next day. No matter if she spent the rest of her days in Northumberland, she would always have this night. And it would be perfect.

Just like this.

Devon shuddered and stroked inside of her, building a feeling again. She wanted to cry out against his neck. But instead she kissed him. His ear, his mouth, his shoulder, anything, everything she could reach.

Devon groaned again and buried his mouth in hers. He pushed into her again and again, sweat pooling on his back, his teeth tightly clenched. She shattered again, into another thousand pieces, just before Devon groaned and shuddered, then fell against her. His breath came in unsteady gasps and he kissed her temple. Hard.

He rolled off her, relieving her of his weight, but he kept the back of her hand pressed to his heart. “Lily, that was … incredible.”

Incredible. She let the word roll around in her brain. Yes, it had been incredible. But was that something Devon said to all the women he took to bed? Was it always incredible? Oh, she refused to think about it. Not tonight. Besides, the wine was finally catching up with her, making her sleepy. She rolled up into a ball, cuddled next to him.

“You know this means you’ll win that blasted bet,” Lily whispered just before she fell asleep.

He squeezed her hand. His voice shook when he answered. “Lily, I can honestly say I’m not thinking one single thought about that damned bet at the moment.”

He wrapped his arms around her. Her eyes drooped shut and she sighed.

Ah, what did any of it matter anymore? All that mattered was the peace in her heart, her satisfied body, and the fact that she could pretend all of this was real, at least for another few hours.

*   *   *

Devon watched her sleep. He nudged a dark curl from her cheek and traced his finger along her smooth forehead. God, but she was beautiful.

The words she’d thrown at him on the veranda reverberated in his mind.
“I was in love with you five years ago. Madly, idiotically in love, and my heart was broken when you took off for the countryside.”
What the hell had she been talking about? And did she mean it? Had she truly been in love with him five years ago?

He shifted his weight from his elbow and leaned back against the headboard. He pulled the wine bottle from between the crumpled sheets and grinned. Good God, what they’d done with that wine bottle. Just thinking about it made him hard all over again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed a glass … well, wine, quite so well. He pushed the empty bottle onto the nightstand.

“Lily,” he groaned, rubbing his hands over his face then resting his bent arm atop his head. “How the hell were you a virgin?”

Devon expelled his pent-up breath. Guilt tore through his chest like a physical force. That moment. That one moment when he’d realized it. It was as if time had stood still. It had been awful and wonderful simultaneously.

Thank God she’d asked him not to stop. Yes, he was the veriest blackguard for it, but by that point, the legions of hell probably couldn’t have stopped him.

He stared absently into the flickering candlelight. The room smelled like lilies. Just like her perfume. He glanced down at her. Her soft hand rested on the pillow next to her wine-stained lips. What the hell was he supposed to do now? What could he do? It was not as if he’d ruined her. The lady was a widow, for Christ’s sake. The proverbial ship had sailed. But why? Why was she a virgin? And how?

Devon closed his eyes and breathed in her intoxicating scent. There would be time to ask her these things tomorrow. Time to ask her all of these things and to decide what to do. But tonight, tonight he would sleep in the shadow of her beauty, in the comfort of her arms.

He rolled over and slipped an arm over her waist and pulled her close. Her little breaths came out in rapid pants, indicating she was still asleep “I have a secret to tell you, Lily,” he whispered to her sleeping form. “Not that it matters now … but I was in love with you too five years ago. Madly, idiotically in love with you.”