“Now?” she said, a little stunned.
“Definitely now,” he agreed, sounding strained and determined. “Unless…?”
He hesitated, and Bunty laughed at the disappointment in his eyes.
“Now,” she agreed, wrapping her arms about his neck.
“Thank God,” he murmured, sliding his arousal against her in a slick glide that made her close her eyes, her head thrown back.
Bunty moved her hands over his shoulders, glorying in the shift and play of powerful muscle and the damp silk of his skin. The coarse hair on his torso felt delicious against her breasts as he pressed closer, reaching between them to guide himself inside her.
“Speak to me.”
Bunty blinked up at him in bewilderment. He wanted conversation? Now?
“Tell me it’s all right. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Oh.
“Bunty?”
“It’s all right. Don’t stop, it’s….” She sucked in a breath as she reconsidered that statement and he stilled utterly. For a moment, she breathed carefully around the strange sensation, and then she relaxed by degrees.
“Better?” he asked, his voice strained.
She could feel the tension singing through him.
“Yes.”
He moved again, cautiously, slowly, and Bunty stared up at him. He had his eyes closed, his face a picture of concentration. How beautiful he was, and how careful of her. He was tender and thoughtful and… and how had this man gained such a reputation? How had he become what he was purported to be? She could see nothing of that in him now. His eyes flicked open, dazzling blue and filled with triumph as he gazed down at her. Bunty smiled.
“Better?” he asked again, his lips quirking.
“Better,” she agreed, and then gasped as he tilted her hips and… oh.
“Much better,” he said this time, and it wasn’t a question. He sounded rather smug.
“Oh, yes… m-much….”
Bunty wrapped herself about him and simply held on, clinging to his powerful frame as he taught her what pleasure was, what they could have together. And, oh, it was marvellous. His touch was careful, his attention on her absolute. At this moment, she hadn’t the slightest doubt she was the centre of his universe, and she wanted to be there always. The intimacy was astonishing, the closeness with this man she barely knew. Already, she felt he had sunk into her bones, into her soul. She did know him, didn’t she? At least she recognised his generosity, his kindness, and his willingness to share himself—both his faults and his strengths—and to bolster her own insecurities with his surety. Bunty was lost, drowning in him, in this man she had known so little but was falling for like a star plummeting to earth. His body made hers sing, made her feel right in her own skin in a way she’d never thought possible. No longer was she awkward and hiding herself, trying to disguise her curves, to diminish her height. He loved her body, that much was obvious from the way he was moving, every grunt of pleasure that made her skin prickle with awareness. She had never realised, never expected…. Her mother’s staccato, anxiety-laden words of advice for her wedding night had not given the slightest hint that this… this was even possible. Perhaps it wouldn’t be with anyone else but him, but it was him. He was breathing hard now, his movements erratic and harsh, wonderfully masculine sounds of effort and passion filling her ears as he shuddered, jerked, and spilled himself inside her with a hoarse cry that made her heart soar, and hope fill her to the brim.
He collapsed on top of her with a groan, his chest heaving, his body slick with the effort of his exertions. Bunty lay pinned beneath him, feeling a little dazed and very feminine and… and almost delicate as his heavy body pressed her into the mattress. It was heavenly.
“Christ, I’m crushing you,” he muttered, hauling himself up.
“No!” Bunty cried, holding onto him and pulling him back. “No. Don’t… Don’t go. Not yet. I… I like it. I like the weight of you, the feel of you.”
He shifted a little, propping his head on his elbow and staring down at her.
“You do, eh?”
There was teasing in his expression, but it was warm and gentle, in no way mocking, and so she just nodded.
“You’ve really gone and done it now, my lady,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re mine.”
“Yes.”
“No regrets?”
Something flickered in his eyes, something vulnerable and uncertain, and Bunty wanted to chase it away. She reached her hand up to stroke his face, still unable to believe this gorgeous man was really hers.
“Not one,” she said.
Chapter 5
“Wherein the real world intrudes.”
London
December 13, 1820
“There’s no choice, Ludo. If you will be so ridiculously stubborn about using my money, then we must not waste yours. Your landlady charges a fortune for those meals she cooks. We must either go out to eat, or get some shopping so I may attempt to cook for us, though I warn you now I am more than a little doubtful as to my skills.”
“I won’t have you skivvying and cooking!”
Bunty rolled her eyes as their discussion went around in a complete circle for the second time. “Then employ a maid and let us get some dinner.”
Ludo was sitting up in bed, looking mutinous. His arms were folded across his chest and Bunty tried not to get distracted by the way it made his muscles bulge. She wanted to lick him. He was so delicious, and….
No.
Then he’d have his way, and they could not carry on like this. No matter how delightful it was.
They had not left his rooms in the five days since they’d married. Astonishingly, no one had called. Astonishing that was, until she realised her father had not posted notice of their marriage. He was ashamed of it. Of them. The knowledge burned, especially when she was so happy, but… well, that was her parents’ problem. They only knew Ludo by reputation. They would come around when they realised the man he really was. The one she was coming to know.
“But I don’t want to go out,” he grumbled. “Come back to bed.”
He gave the mattress an inviting pat.
Bunty wavered before firming her resolve. “No. And it’s only for a while. Honestly, anyone would think you were ashamed of….”
She let those word hang in the air as she actually thought about them, and all her old insecurities came crashing down on her.
“Oh, no!” he said, and she looked up, startled by his impatient tone.
He leapt out of bed and crossed the room. She had been standing by the window in her dressing gown, staring at the street below. Now she was riveted to the sight of her husband striding towards her in all his naked glory. Her breath caught and held as he closed the distance between them and took her face in his hands, staring down at her.
“What maggoty idea has taken hold in that brain of yours, wife? For, if you think I could ever be ashamed of you… My God, that’s a laugh. I’ve never been prouder of anything in my entire life, and that’s a fact.”
Bunty’s gasped, a knot of emotion in her throat.
“Really, Ludo?” she asked, believing him but wanting to hear it again.