He was still thinking of this a short while later as they retired to their bedchamber. He’d only been thinking of claiming her, not how to go about it. But as she stood by the fire’s glow, removing her pelisse and then sitting on a chair to take off her shoes and stockings, he knelt by her side. “Let me do that for you, Queen Pea.”
She watched, wide-eyed and blushing, as he knelt before her and took off her shoes, setting each one aside.
She eeped as he slipped his hands beneath her gown and slowly slid one stocking off and then the other, also setting each one aside.
“I’ll help you out of your gown,” he said, his voice aching and raw as he lifted to his feet and drew her up along with him. She was still blushing, but he knew she was curious and excited. Her breaths were coming faster now, noticeable by the slight heave of her breasts.
He turned her around and bent to plant light kisses on her neck as he slowly undid the fastenings of her gown, taking his time to trace his fingers over the swells and curves of her body and caress her as he nudged the gown ever lower until it fell in a pool at her feet. “Oh, goodness. My legs are soft as pudding.”
“Ah, then I have done my job.” He lifted her in his arms and carried her to bed.
She gasped. “Ronan, your ribs!”
They didn’t hurt.
Nor did it bother him that his heart was thundering. The molten heat of his desire numbed him to any pain. He set her down in the center of the bed, leaving her still clad in her chemise while he stepped back to peel off his jacket and shirt. But he could not manage his boots on his own. Bollocks. He should have thought of that first. Dahlia realized his difficulty and scrambled off the bed to help him.
Ah, so much for prowess.
He clutched his ribs as the effort of tugging off his boots shot bolts of pain up his sides, and stars burst in his eyes. When his vision cleared, he saw her look of concern. “Ronan, perhaps we ought to wait–”
“Hell, no. I’m fine, Queen Pea. Truly.” He rose and took her in his arms, staving off further protest by claiming her mouth in a torrid kiss that did wonders to stir her heart and arouse her body. He felt her every slight change and knew she was responding to him with a heightened awareness of pleasure.
She pressed herself against him so that he could feel the pounding of her heart against his own. Her breasts, those beautiful, plump mounds he was determined to explore quite thoroughly, molded to the hard planes of his chest. The rope burns he’d suffered had yet to fully heal. Would his skin’s rough texture bother her? She did not appear to mind it.
He breathed her in, lost himself in the cinnamon and apple scent of her skin.
He unpinned her hair and ran his fingers through the silken length, then removed her chemise and tossed it to the foot of their bed, not caring where it landed. This angel was in his arms, lost in his hot kisses, and he was lost in the splendor of her body, the perfect way she fit against him and how right she was for him in so many other ways.
Then somehow, they were on the bed again, atop the covers, and she was beneath his body. He cupped one full breast and began to tease it with his thumb. She gasped when he brought his mouth to the taut bud and began to gently suckle it.
He moved to the other and did the same, his tongue flicking over it, laving it, and loving Dahlia’s response, the honesty of her soft, breathy sighs and whispered moans. “Ronan, I never knew it could be like this.”
“Always, with us. I love you, Queen Pea.” He moved back up to kiss her throat, her face, and at the same time, his hand moved down her body, caressing and stroking, and finally coming to rest between her thighs.
She gazed at him, questioning what came next but also eager to find out if her steamy look of confusion was any indication. He parted her legs slightly and began to stroke her intimately, watching her response as she closed her eyes and gave herself over to these new sensations of passion.
He loved her expressions, the way she nibbled her lower lip, her sighs, and the way her body responded to his touch. She clung to his shoulders and gave herself over to his touch with so much trust, he felt a boundless love for her.
When he felt she was ready, he entered her slowly and carefully, knowing this experience was new to her and not wanting her to feel any pain.
She wrapped her arms around him as he broke through her maiden barrier, clinging to him as he led her toward fulfillment of this timeless act. His thrusts were cautious at first, but grew bolder as her body adjusted to him. She was slick for him. Hot for him. She was his mate. His love. Forever his.
He took her breathy moans into his mouth, kissing her while he thrust inside her, watching her passion build, knowing just how to make it build. He felt her on the precipice of rapture, wrapped his arms around her, and held her in his embrace as she fell over the edge to experience a woman’s pleasure for the first time.
She whispered his name. “Ronan. Ronan.” And clung to him tightly. Sweetly.
He followed soon after, spilling himself inside her, lost in his own surge of pleasure.
Heat roared through him.
Hunger and craving for his Queen Pea fired his blood, as he knew it always would. Their coupling had changed him, for he was no longer merely himself but a part of her as well, bound to her in body and heart.
Once they both began to calm, he smiled down at her and kissed her with a gentle longing.
Now spent, he carefully pulled out of her and fell onto his back, drawing her atop him and closing his arms around her.
She had the most incredibly beautiful body.
And the loveliest mouth, now curved in a wondrous smile.
He arched an eyebrow and grinned. “What are you thinking, Queen Pea?”
“I’m not thinking at all. My brain and body have completely turned to pudding. But I can still feel, and there is so much feeling gushing out of me. I love you, Ronan. I’m so grateful to have you in my life. I don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve the gift of you.”
“Mutual, sweetheart. But you’re the gift. Hell, I have no idea what I’ve ever done to deserve you. But never doubt that I shall always treasure you.”
“Who would ever have thought, even a month ago, that we would be married and end up like this?”
He stroked her hair, brushing back her soft curls. “I hoped for it. So many times, I wanted to say something to you. When I pulled the bean out of that Twelfth Night cake, it seemed to pulse in my hands. I knew you would be the one to pull out the pea. You had to be. No one else could ever be my queen. And no one else ever will be. You are the only one who will ever claim my heart.”
“As you will only ever be my King Bean. I think I must find a wallpaper of beans and peas and hang it in our bedchamber, what do you think?”
He knew she was teasing. “Do whatever you please, so long as you share my bed and fall asleep in my arms. And always love me.”
“Loving you always is the easy part. Perhaps we won’t need that wallpaper. Maybe just a small painting on the dining room wall of a pea and a bean and a Twelfth Night cake.” She curled herself around his arm, as she’d taken to doing these past nights when every other part of him was covered in that unguent. “You are the best Christmas gift I ever had.”
“Mutual, Queen Pea. Sweet dreams, my love.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
London, England