Spring Blossom (29 page)

Margaret felt the shoulders and waist sag
free seconds before he stepped around in front of her.

As much as he wanted her naked, as much as
he wanted to see her, he took his time and played with her, he
petted her and gently kissed her until he pulled the dress forward,
letting it fall to her feet. He tugged at the drawstring of her
petticoat, and it, too, fell to the floor. And then he began a
ritual of teasing, stroking caresses that eventually had her
gasping. Stealthily, as his gentle assault continued, he reached
for the hem of the pretty camisole she wore, lifting it slowly
upward, revealing her beauty a mere fraction at a time. Before
Margaret knew what was happening, she was naked and being carried
to their bed. He lowered her gently to its center, following her
down and pressing her back into the pillow with an onslaught of
kisses that drove her senseless with sensations that were entirely
new to her; the blood in her system began to thrum, nerves tingled
and her breathing quickened and deepened. “Oh, my God, Hunter,” she
breathed as last. “What are you doing?”

Hunter raised his head and smiled down at
her as his caressing hands became even more bold. “Loving you,
little one,” he whispered. “Loving you.”

Before either could control another moment,
she was reaching for him even as Hunter shed the remainder of his
own clothing. She watched him as he stood to unfasten his trousers.
He hooked his thumbs in the waistband and quickly peeled the
form-fitting breeches down the length of his dark, muscular thighs.
His flanks were tight and muscular as well, and, surprisingly
appealing to her. She wondered briefly at this new admiration for
his male body and then she admonished herself for not allowing more
intimate moments between them before now; if she had, Margaret
realized she would have discovered just how beautiful a man she had
married. And, suddenly, that mattered.

Naked now, Hunter lay down beside her and
drew the bed sheet up to his waist as he turned on his side to face
her. “Could I have my woman back now?” he teased and moved closer
to her. “God, Maggie!” he breathed as her arms went around him and
he buried his face in her luxuriant hair. “You smell so sweet,” he
said quietly, his hand roaming down her back. But he was careful to
hold his lower body away from her for just a while longer as his
hands and mouth roamed over her face and shoulders. His chest
lightly teased her breasts as he bent over her, devoting
considerable attention to the soft spot beneath her ear.

Margaret nervously searched her mind for
what she should do or say now. Should she talk? Should she touch?
Should she kiss him in return?

“Did Pride take to the mare?” she whispered.
Immediately he stopped moving; in fact, he appeared to stop
breathing. And then his shoulders began to shake. “Hunter?” She
frowned, her arms tightening around him briefly before she realized
what was happening…he was laughing!

Margaret punched his arm. “Hunter Maguire!”
she chided, cursing him with his own name.

Hunter rolled away and fell onto his back.
“God! Don’t get me thinking about that.”

She reared up and over him. “It’s not
funny!” she sputtered.

He nodded his head vigorously, tears of
merriment pooling in the corners of his eyes. “It is,” he insisted.
“I’m fighting to control my ardor, and you have to put that picture
in my mind!”

Margaret’s confusion lasted for a moment
longer as she stared down at her laughing husband, but the she,
too, understood and began to laugh softly. “I’m sorry,” she
said.

Hunter hooked an arm around her neck and
drew her down onto his chest. “You should be,” he teased as his
laughter began to subside. “You could have ended our evening before
it had even begun.”

She smiled down at him, making herself
comfortable by propping her arms on his chest. “Really,
Hunter?”

In spite of her light tone, Hunter
understood that she was genuinely curious about it all. She had no
yardstick with which to measure the progress of a romantic, slow
seduction. “Really,” he said, pulling her up and over his body.
“I’m aching for you, my love, and that makes the situation tenuous
at best. I do not want to rush this, our first encounter.” He drew
her head down then, kissing her lightly as one hand began to roam
the length of her body. “I want you to find your pleasure and
understand it before I seek mine,” he said quietly.

He slowly turned her onto her back then,
propping himself up on his side. He kicked the sheet to the end of
the bed and away, then took his time inspecting her body. She was
long-legged despite her lack of height. She had a narrow waist and
pleasingly full breasts. Her abdomen was flat, and it was here his
hand fell first, spanning her pelvic bones with his hand as if
carefully considering her capacity to carry his sons. He dropped a
quick kiss on her belly as his hand continued down her thigh and
his lips worked their way with painstaking slowness toward her
breast. Once there, he teased a taut, dark nipple with his tongue
and felt Maggie arch her back in reaction. “Good,” he breathed as
he turned his attention to her other breast. “You like that,” he
added with conviction.

Margaret found her eyes closing as she
concentrated on the maddening tremors that were shooting through
her body. She placed her hand on the back of his head, begging him
with the slight pressure of her palm to continue this amazing
agony. He had touched her breasts before, but always there had been
clothing between them. She returned in her thoughts to a recent
time he had touched and teased her and, in her memories, she had
felt oddly cheated. Now Margaret was beginning to understand those
past feelings and why, also, she had been tense and miserable all
these weeks during his courting.

His hand had wandered high between her
thighs, and Margaret’s initial reaction was to reach down and grasp
his wrist. Hunter moved up along her side, teasing her chin as his
lips traveled toward her mouth and his fingers stroked her hip.
“It’s all right, Maggie.”

She was shaking her head, trying to smile.
“I’m sorry.” She raised her lips to his as he teased them. “I
thought I had settled this in my mind. I just…Please don’t stop.”
Margaret closed her eyes then, embarrassed that she had turned
coward after promising herself she would not.

Hunter once again suffered the familiar
moments of angry frustration that she should be so apprehensive
about something that should be so very special between them. He did
not want her to feel afraid. He wanted her to feel only physical
and emotional desire. He wanted her to rejoice in the feminine
power she possessed, to wallow in sexuality and passion. She
deserved all of that and more.

Margaret opened her eyes and watched her
husband prop himself up, his elbow close to her shoulder. He raised
a hand to lightly brush tiny wisps of hair back from her
temple.

“Do you know about finding release?”

Margaret shook her head. “No.”

He ducked his head, and his tongue outlined
the shell of her ear.

Margaret shivered in response.

“Then I must tell you that what happens here
between us will be a mutual thing, little one.” His lips moved
slowly along her jaw line and he kissed her between words, his hand
returning to her breast. “You must not fear anything you feel,
Maggie,” he breathed. “Only good will come of it.”

Margaret had closed her eyes again, totally
abandoning herself to the feel of his hands on her. The finest
brandy in the world could not duplicate these feelings of hot
liquid coursing through her. Her breathing became labored, as did
Hunter’s, and she feared they would both ignite and expire on the
spot.

Hunter felt the tension building within her
as her body strained and twisted toward him. His hand sought that
most intimate part of her then, his fingers teasing her
determinedly. He smiled at her chagrin the moment he touched her
there. “It’s fine, my love. It means you’re ready for me. It’s
natural.” He felt her body tense slightly as his words trailed
off.

Hunter put his other arm under her back,
pulling her close into the security of his body as he continued to
play with her, whisper to her, and lave her taut nipples. And then
he received his reward. Margaret groaned and arched up hard against
him, crying out his name as her fingers dug into the muscles of his
shoulders.

“Little one,” he whispered as she wrapped
her arms around him and pressed her face against his neck.
“Maggie,” he breathed as he pulled away slightly, hovering over her
a brief space of time before slowly lowering his body between her
open thighs. He rested there, gathering control in order to prolong
the moment. But Hunter had wanted her for such a long time now.

Stunned by her own experience, Margaret
turned fully onto her back as he directed and lay staring up at him
as she felt him shift upward and slowly fill her body. “Oh,
Maggie,” he breathed as he nuzzled her ear. He seemed to want to
rest within her, and she raised her arms, inviting him to lower his
weight upon her as she welcomed him into her embrace. This, too,
was a new and curious experience…no fear, no pain, just a rush of
feelings.

Her embrace was about all that Hunter could
endure, however, and he made several long slow movements with his
hips before he drew back and quickly pressed forward, shuddering
with an intensity that frightened Margaret as he gained his own
release.

They clung to each other for a time, Hunter
conscious of his weight upon her but knowing instinctively that she
was not ready to let him go.

“Are you all right?” she whispered.

Hunter smiled against her hair. “I think I’m
supposed to ask that of you, love.”

“It’s just…it seemed…so violent.”

Hunter raised his head and frowned down at
her. “For whom?”

“You.”

His smile returned with that. “I think it
will always be like that between us, Maggie.”

Her mind was a mass of tender thoughts, but
she could not bring herself to utter them and sound any more
foolishly unsophisticated than she already had. The tender words
would wait until she felt more sure of herself. Instead she teased,
“Well, it was quick, Hunter Maguire,” and he laughed against her
shoulder.

“I’m not finished with you yet, woman, so
don’t get too cocky.”

She smiled up at the ceiling and stroked his
back in slow, wide circles; he had stated a fact and she was the
holder of the evidence. And most amazing of all, she was
content.

Hunter planted his elbows on either side of
her and raised himself up. Smiling down at her, he said, “You
didn’t waste much time yourself.” He raised a hand to stroke her
cheek. “You’re all right, aren’t you, love?” he asked, his dark
eyes staring into her smiling blue ones. He wasn’t asking after the
state of her health; he was worried about the state of her
mind.

“I’m fine,” she said softly. "More than
fine," she added, before he ducked his head down to draw on her
lower lip.

Margaret felt him move, lightly easing
upward and rotating his hips until a tiny flashing tremor surprised
her. She arched back, pressing her head into the pillow as she
whispered his name with obvious surprise.

He became alert then, realizing the
swiftness of her arousal. “Move your hips,” he whispered and placed
a hand at her waist to guide her movements.

Within moments, Margaret’s body exploded
into furious shudders of blessed torture as he held her against
him.

After a moment she sagged limply in his
arms, and he lowered her down onto the pillow while he continued to
smile at her. “That was something,” he said, and a heated blush
rose up from her bosom to the roots of her hair.

He laughed softly at her consternation and
lightly caressed her cheek, using the brief interval to regain
control of his own desires. Then he eased himself away from her. “I
think I’d best leave you alone for a bit,” he murmured. “I don’t
want you to be sore.”

“Where are you going?” she asked quickly,
betraying her need to keep him close.

“Across the room, silly girl,” and then he
looked down at his body. “Where else would I go in this
condition?”

Margaret’s gaze followed his and then her
eyes flew to his face again. “Oh,” she said softly.

He laughed, bending to peck her cheek before
he bounded up from the bed.

When he moved beyond her sight, Margaret was
too exhausted to turn over and see what he was doing. Instead she
just lay where he had left her, curled up like a weary kitten.

Her eyes napped open the instant she felt
his weight on the bed, however, and she stared curiously at the
damp cloth he held in his hand.

“This is for you,” he said and shook his
head when she reached up for the cloth. “Roll onto you back,” he
ordered and pushed her back before she could imagine his
intent.

When he lowered his hand, she understood.
“You can’t do that!” she said and quickly clamped a hand onto his
wrist.

Hunter’s eyes returned to her face. “Why
not?” he asked reasonably. “I’ve touched you there.”

“But it seems so…” Her frown grew along with
her confusion.

“Intimate?” He eased her hand from his arm,
ignoring her protest. “Wait until we share a bath,” he teased,
daring a smiling glance at her.

“We won’t be sharing a bath,” she returned.
The very idea!

“Why not?” he asked again and Margaret
thought about it for a moment.

“Did Pride take to the mare, Hunter?”

CHAPTER 21

Maggie and Hunter alternately made love and
talked with each other all night. As a result they were both sound
asleep long after the cock crowed. And they took a bit of
good-natured chiding later on…Marie-Louise to Margaret and Jason
and Jeffrey to Hunter…but on the whole everyone was pleased by the
newfound closeness between the two.