“You eat it. You asked for it.” Tara insisted. Somehow he’d managed to steer the conversation from the contents of his plate to more intimate terms.
“Only after you’re satisfied, dearest.” Adrian replied in a seductive whisper.
Tara felt a tingling in the vicinity of her abdomen at the suggestiveness of his words. She was stunned and afraid; afraid of her own vulnerability to his charm.
Adrian put the fork down. He lifted a morsel of meat to her lips with his fingers. “Taste it.” Tara’s lips parted and his fingers slid the tidbit inside. It was sweet, tender, succulent, almost melting on her tongue.
“Roast duckling in orange sauce.” He commented, lifting another piece with his thumb and forefinger to her waiting mouth. “Quite pleasant, is it not?”
He continued the game, feeding her bit by bit, morsel by juicy morsel with his fingers.
Tara swallowed each morsel he lifted to her lips with a heightened awareness of her own desire as his moist fingers trailed down her neck to circle the tip of her breast through her cotton nightgown. Those gifted fingers traveled slowly, leisurely along her arm, her collarbone, and up the column of her throat. They paused briefly to caress her ear, her cheek, and then returned to caress her anxious lips. His eyes had become a luminous shade of pale, smoky quartz, tantalizing her, drawing her to him like some magician’s spell.
She wanted him to kiss her. Tara
needed
him to kiss her. She’d explode if he did not. With his next offering Tara licked his fingertips, gently surrounding each one with her lips, suckling the tip to taste the sweet juices of meat and sauce that lingered on his skin. She held his potent gaze as she returned the seduction.
Adrian moaned, low in his throat and closed his eyes as she suckled and twined her tongue around his middle finger with intimate promise. She closed her eyes, intent on eliciting her own sweet tortured pleasure from her would be seducer.
Tara heard the plate clatter to the floor beside the bed.
His finger was pulled abruptly from her mouth with a brusque oath.
Tara opened her eyes. Adrian leaned toward her with those roguish eyes. She opened her arms, welcoming his urgent kiss as he leaned over her. The feel of his hard body pressed over her was intoxicating. She savored his masculine scent as he nuzzled her neck and chased away any lingering doubts by placing moist warm kisses just below her ear.
Adrian pulled back. He stood to lift the covers from her and then eased down beside Tara still fully clothed. His arm snaked behind her neck as she reclined against the mound of pillows and drew her closer to him. Tara was exhilarated. Nothing could compare to the feeling of those strong arms surrounding her or that hard frame holding her close.
“Shall we dance in the enchanted glen, my Fairy Queen?”
Tara nodded as she gazed into his smoldering eyes.
His lips found hers, gently caressing and plying her mouth with teasing little nips. The sharp teeth on her lower lip brought a stinging feeling that only enhanced the pleasure of his kiss. She felt the hunger growing, deep within. She was wet, and anxious with desire for his touch. Oh, he knew what he was about, no doubt about that.
Adrian’s fingers moved slowly down her body, petting, stroking, so cautious and patient, not demanding. Tara moaned as desire coursed through her. She wasn’t an innocent. She didn’t need to be coddled through a first encounter. She knew it instinctively as he continued to glide his hands patiently and lightly over her torso, as if he were gentling a timid mare and getting the animal accustomed to his touch before riding her. She captured his hand as it trailed up her hip to her ribs and pressed it firmly over her breast, squeezing his fingers as hard as she could. Adrian took her none too subtle hint, grasping her possessively and then pinching her nipple and rolling it between his fingers until it hardened as his lips caressed that sensitive nook below her ear.
Tara closed her eyes, reveling in his new bold, possessive touch. His fingers loosened the ties of her gown, exposing her breasts to the air. Tara inhaled sharply through her teeth as the cool air enveloping her skin added a scintillating layer of seduction. His dark head bent over her breast as he began licking and then nibbling the taut bud as he eased her onto her back. Tara exalted in his adoration of her breasts as she wound her fingertips about his hair, caressing the locks of ebony silk.
Adrian’s knee moved between her legs, parting her thighs. Tara bent one knee in a primitive response, opening to him. Light fingers traced her calf and travelled leisurely up the back of her thigh to explore her wet, hot folds. She gasped as he found her clitoris and expertly began to worry it. He once more possessed her mouth, kissing her with a raw desperation until they were fused together in a molten kiss.
Tara arched against his demanding fingertip, hungry for more of this delicious torture as he pressed and rubbed her intimate jewel with uncanny skill. He pulled his mouth away to gaze down at her, his eyes bright and sultry with desire as he continued to stroke her hidden jewel. His lips turned up into a wicked smile as he simply watched her writhe and moan beneath the startling power of his fingertip.
Unable to voice her spiraling desire, Tara opened her legs more fully, the invitation clear as her burning flesh yearned to receive his hardened cock. She arched against his hand, urging him to fill her with himself. He slipped two fingers inside her, deliciously finger-banging her while continuing to press her exploding jewel with his thumb.
And then, he was gone. He withdrew his hand from her wet, shivering pussy, and pulled away from her. Tara sat up, wide eyed, about to protest when she found him crouched on the bed, his head and shoulders between her opened thighs. “Oh!” She murmured, amazed and excited by his intention.
Adrian took her with his mouth. His tongue replaced his finger, teasing and coaxing her swollen clit, suckling it and then twisting like a serpent through her velvet folds to plunge deep inside of her. She gasped and shuddered beneath this glorious pagan worship of her womanhood. The culmination of his kneeling devotion came swiftly. Tara cried out shamelessly as he carried her across the threshold of madness into blinding delight.
Wave after wave of sweet, mind blowing pleasure crashed over her.
Weak and sated, she sagged into the mattress, her body damp with glistening dew. She was smiling, grinning from ear to ear like an inebriated fool. She couldn’t help it. Her hidden lips were vibrating and tingling as her heart pounded a heavy metal drumbeat from the amplifier in her chest.
“Yeah, you shook me all night long . . .”
After moments of uninterrupted bliss, Tara opened her eyes to find Adrian with is chin propped on one elbow as he lay between her knees, patiently smiling at her.
“And to think I’ve yet to remove my pants.” He whispered.
His meaning came slowly as sated desire dulled her reasoning. Tara’s eyes widened as she lifted her head from the pillow. A scarlet flush crept up her neck as she took in his fully clothed form as he peeked up at her from between her naked thighs.
“And now, I’ll leave you to your dreams.”
“No—don’t go.” Tara burst out. “Not yet. We haven’t finished.” Tara took his hand as he edged up from his crouched position, not wanting to lose this sweet intimacy between them. “Stay. Let me pleasure you.”
Tara woke from a fitful sleep, if one could call it sleeping. Her mind conjured all sorts of carnal images of being in Adrian’s arms. She dreamed of being with him in a fairy bower, surrounded by glowing vines and climbing flowers. Adrian left her there on her mossy bed, unsatisfied, yearning for more of his magical touch. Tara awoke in fits and starts throughout the night to toss and turn in frustration at his retreat.
With languorous movements, she slipped from the bed, hoping to catch Adrian before he had left his chamber and joined their hosts below. The maid assigned to her assisted her in dressing, and at Tara’s insistence, she left her hair down about her shoulders. Tara didn’t want to waste a moment as she hoped to find her husband alone and finish what he ignited within her the night before.
A knock sounded on the door. Tara turned, her heart soaring with anticipation.
“Good morning, Lady Tara.” It was Lady Anne, come to inquire as to her health.
Disappointment crushed the sweet kindling of desire. Tara pasted a plastic smile on her face. “Good Morning, my lady.” She bobbed a curtsy and then remembered Adrian’s mother instructed her that she needn’t do so to those of a lower rank than herself. The Whites were recently raised to the barony making them lower in rank than Viscount Dillon and his wife. Tara found the rules and dictates tiring and somewhat ridiculous. She was certain when the situation presented itself where she should be bowing before a higher ranked peer she would forget and bring shame on her new family in her ignorance.
“I do hope you are feeling better?” Lady Anne walked closer to her with a gentle smile. “I hoped to present you to society tonight at the ball.”
“Yes. The herbal you gave me, and a good night’s rest made all the difference, Madame. Thank you.” Tara lied, feeling a little guilty for worrying the poor woman with her pretended illness. In truth she’d been too cowardly to dine with the aristocracy last night. Tonight, she’d just pluck up her courage and face them.
“Fiona was worried. She’s still so fragile since losing Althea, you realize. She imagined you caught a chill and would be on your deathbed within a week. Poor dear. I’m afraid she’s indisposed this morning. I trust she will have recovered in time for the ball this evening.”
Tara gave Lady Anne a sympathetic look.
“I sent her to bed early, my lady.” The older woman added, aptly read Tara’s thoughts, judging by the shrewd expression in her lovely, dark eyes.
She nodded. The woman was telling her in the most polite terms possible that her mother-in-law had a hangover. She only hoped Lady Fiona had not embarrassed Adrian last night with her behavior.
“She didn’t linger overmuch in the parlor after dinner. There were few guests last night. The majority of them will be arriving today. I wanted to see you before all the bustle begins and make certain you will be up to the occasion. Tonight shall be your triumph. Consider it your wedding ball as well as a military ball given in honor of our new commander. Fiona was so disappointed that you were married in private. Of course, my lord’s reasoning was well understood, dearest, make no mistake. Fiona wants to show you off to the world so fiercely she forgets herself when it comes to what is desirable and what is reasonable under such tragic circumstances.”
Tara smiled, this time the genuine article. Lady Fiona was quite fortunate to have such a loyal friend, given her mercurial moods. “You are very kind, Lady Anne.”
“Fiona and I have a long association. We’ve been friends since we were girls dreaming of beaus and making our come out in society. Althea would have made her come out this spring, so the excitement of presenting you as the new Lady Dillon has given Fiona a new hope at her darkest time.”
Tara sighed, unable to voice her misgivings at being presented at such a formal event. She wished she could quietly observe from a corner and not have the entire gathering staring at her as they announced her as Lady Dillon.
“I have much to do, my dear. If you need anything, my staff will attend you.”
I
need
my husband. Tara thought. “Adrian--Lord Dillon, is he still sleeping?”
“Heavens, no.” Lady Anne gave a delicate laugh. “All the men were gone at first light. We arranged a small hunting party to entertain them while we ladies prepare ourselves for the evening.”
“When will they be back?” Tara’s heart heavy at the thought of having to spend the day without him.
“I’m afraid they will make a day of it. Once the hounds are loosed, they’ll be possessed with the hunt until that poor fox is cornered. Richard promised me they would be home before sundown, allowing plenty of time to bathe and dress for the ball. I shall keep him at his word. Now, my dear, if you will excuse me, I have guests arriving within the hour.” Lady Anne took her leave.
The maid brought Tara a breakfast tray. Braised kidneys on toast were not her first choice for breakfast. She scraped the offensive little bundles off the toasted bread and made the best at eating it in spite of the odd taste. The eggs were quite good, a treat after eating the kidney tainted toast.
The clock on the mantle seemed frozen as Tara waited for the men to return. She sat in the window seat and gazed wistfully out at the rolling hills and the forest beyond, hoping to capture the sight of her beloved returning to the mansion.
Adrian returned at three o’clock. Tara rose from the windowseat where she’d spent most of her time daydreaming and drawing images of things remembered in her journal. Excitement filled her at his long awaited presence and a measure of uncomfortable shyness when she remembered their encounter last night. Adrian didn’t seem affected in the least by last night’s interlude. He threw his coat on the bed, removed his muddied boots while talking to her without looking at her, as if they’d been married for years instead of weeks. He surprised Tara by marching over to where she stood to give her a perfunctory peck on the cheek.