Page 86 of The Formation of Us
“I’m looking forward to it,” she answered, her voice low and sultry, her eyes half-closed with what he hoped was desire.
His lusting body was in favor of an immediate demonstration, but his brain cautioned him to slow down. “I planned to woo you into our marriage bed slowly, but after seeing you like this, God help me, I can’t slow down. Am I pushing too fast?”
“Not if you want to consummate our vows before our first anniversary.”
Her gentle humor eased his worry that he was rushing her, but he couldn’t move forward without asking the question that had been circling his mind since they spoke their vows. He brushed a thick wave of hair away from her forehead, needing to see her eyes. “I hope you don’t view our marriage bed as a duty.”
She sighed and caressed his cheek with her warm fingertips. “What we share privately is our gift to each other.” She brushed her lips to his. “I’m nervous, though, that I’ll disappoint you.”
“You could never disappoint me.”
“Remember that the first time I irritate you.”
He smiled, relieved by her playful words. “I promise.”
“Show me those fireworks.” She nipped his chin with her pretty white teeth. “Make me your wife.”
A surge of lust tightened his groin, and he pulled her against him, kissing her urgently, deeply, hard. Because he couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t wait any longer. Her peaked breasts pressed through her chemise and flattened against his chest, making him wild for her. He rocked his hips against hers, demanding, insisting he satisfy the instinctive urges of his body.
Gasping, he broke away to pull her chemise over her head. The garment lifted her long, gorgeous hair up for a brief second, then let it fall like a silky cape around her shoulders. Her skin was lightly bronzed, and her breasts round and full. He let the chemise fall at her feet and circled her waist with his palms, sliding them up to cup her breasts. Drunk by her beauty, he leaned down and swirled his tongue around the tan aureole of her breast, then sucked her peaked nipple into his hot, hungry mouth.
She clutched his shoulders and arched against his lips, her breathy moan sending a jolt of heat straight to his groin.
He hissed with pain and broke away, needing to shuck his trousers before they crippled him. He toed off his shoes, wrangled out of his painfully tight trousers, then shoved his drawers down, freeing his turgid shaft.
He looked at Faith as he tugged off his socks. She was staring at him, at his lusting body, with parted lips and uncertainty in her eyes. If she asked him to slow down now, he may as well get his revolver and shoot himself. Because he couldn’t stop. And if he dallied much longer, he was going to embarrass himself and disappoint her, something he hadn’t done since his introduction to the act of lovemaking.
“You’re magnificent,” she whispered, her gaze filled with desire.
That was all the invitation he needed. He yanked off his last sock and went to her. With shaking hands, he untied her drawers, taking deep breaths that did nothing to calm him. His body wanted and needed release. But he needed more. He needed to make their lovemaking special for her, for both of them and the vows they’d exchanged.
As Faith slid her lacy drawers off her slender hips and down her long legs, he knew he was a goner. He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed, not daring to kiss her. But when he sat her on the bed, she looped her arms around his neck and gave him a sweet smile.
“It might be more civilized if you take off my shoes first.”
He winced. “You’ve got me so wound up I can’t think straight.”
She laughed, a light, happy sound he hoped to hear every night for the rest of his life.
She sat nude on the bed, her hair streaming over one breast and down her back, looking up at him, smiling with that lush, kissable mouth, her whiskey-colored eyes promising him forever—and his heart knew love.
Radford had been wrong. This wasn’t just lust. This was the beginning of the rest of his life. Finally, after sharing a mill with his brothers and a home with his mother and a job with a whole county, he had something to call his own. He had someone to take in his arms and love.
He removed Faith’s shoes and fancy stockings, then lowered the lantern wick, the golden light revealing every curve of her breasts and waist and hips. His breath jammed in his chest.
She turned back the covers to welcome him into bed, and his groin tightened yet again. It was all he could do not to lay her back and push between her long, slender thighs. His urges pounded through him, making his body shudder as he joined his bride in their marriage bed. He took her in his arms and kissed her, vowing to make this perfect.
For all his fear of losing control, Duke found himself taking his time exploring his wife’s body. She was slender-boned and soft. Everywhere. And hot. She was ready for him, arching her hips up to his hand, gasping in his ear, but he wanted more—for her.
She moaned into his mouth, raising his temperature, but he held back, moving his hand to her breasts to give her body time to level off before he took her higher.
But she was writhing, her hands clutching him, her boldness surprising and pleasing. She suckled his neck and splayed her soft hands across his back, rubbing them down his body in a sweeping massage. Then she brought her hand forward to his stomach, and lower, her warm fingers circling him.
Heat surged into his groin and he groaned, wanting to grip her hand around him and rock his hips. He deepened his kiss and moved his hand to her hot center, stoking her fire, making her whimper until she broke their kiss.
“This is magical,” she said, her voice trembling, wonder filling her eyes.
She met his mouth with an ardor that shook his control, and he sensed she was ready to soar. He fit himself between her legs and, finally, thankfully, joined them as man and wife.
