Page 21 of Bedding the Marquess
He turned quickly and beat a hasty retreat from the room, but there was no masking the thick, prominent ridge of his arousal as it strained against the falls of his breeches.
“Oh my…” Caroline shivered and began to fan her face. She didn’t know how much longer she could stand this.
The baby fluttered once more within her womb.
Gideon woke atdawn the next morning, dressed quickly and silently, ignored the painful hardness and heat in his groin, and stormed out of the castle to the mews. As instructed, his chestnut gelding had been prepared and danced on anxious feet as Gideon approached. His large, dark eyes wide, nostrils flared, muscles trembling in anticipation, it appeared they could both use a long, hard ride to start their day.
Offering a quick nod in acknowledgment to the groom, Gideon swung up into the saddle in one fluid movement.
They were off like a cannon.
Gideon gave himself over to the beast’s thundering hooves, the heaving of his broad back beneath him as they flew acrossfields, down dusty paths, and skirted the village. The air grew saltier as they neared the coast. The wind stung his face and whipped the air from his lungs, but it felt glorious. It had been too long since he’d ridden like this—so hard and far that the rest of the world fell away. Everything around them was reduced to blurs of color and physical sensations. He allowed his mount to choose their direction and speed, giving him his head as they both worked off their pent-up energy, enjoying the strain upon their muscles. It wasn’t precisely the release he ached for, but it would have to do.
For now.
Caroline had given him hope at supper the evening before, and he’d bottled it and clung to it like a superstitious man would a talisman. Everything about Caroline drove him nearly insensible with need. Her smile suffused him with warmth; her laughter buoyed his soul; the way she cared for him brought comfort to his soul, the likes of which he’d never known before she came into his life. She was his, according to the letter of the law, but he was brimming with the desire to possess every part of her. He wanted her to ache for him as he did her. He wanted to know she, too, counted the minutes until they were once again in the same room. He wanted her body to burn for him with the same flame he experienced every time he looked at her or heard the melody of her voice.
And the hope she’d given him brought him one step closer to that.
The golden light of morning was in full force by the time they slowed to overlook the white chalk cliffs and the crashing waves far below. Gideon dismounted and rubbed the white splotches on the horse’s velvety nose.
“Good boy,” he praised, both of them catching their breath. Holding the reins in one hand, they walked along the cliff. Gideon tilted his head toward the wheeling seabirds, theirscreeching calls ripped away on the wind. He raked his damp hair back from his face, but it was an exercise in futility with the sea breeze. It plastered his linen shirt to his sweat-slicked chest, chilling his overheated skin and causing gooseflesh to rise over every inch of his body. The heat deep within him refused to be quelled, however.
It haunted him when he tried to sleep.
It plagued him when he attempted to distract himself with other tasks.
Each time he thought it was beginning to cool, Caro would walk into the room and it would roar to life once more.
It was Caroline.
She was the catalyst of all that was slowly driving him mad with need.
She filled his eyes, his lungs, his blood. Even when he left the grounds on his punishing rides, he could not fully escape her. His damned gelding was namedPosybecause of her.
“Don’t the white markings on his nose look like flower petals? He looks as if he were sniffing a posy and some of them became stuck.”
He could still hear Caro’s words and her joyful laughter as he collected the animal from Tattersalls five years prior. Even though the yearling had had a much more regal, official title, the name had stuck. Gideon could only call him Posy. It was engraved on his tack and above his stall. He came to that name when called. There was simply no escaping Caro for either of them.
“Bloody hell…” Gideon groaned as they ambled along. Though his embarrassingly persistent erection had flagged, the ride had done little to clear his head.
Her words at supper ran through his head again and again. She’d left the possibility open to their being more between them, and it was at once his greatest relief and fear. He ached topossess her again; something primal had been unleashed within him when she’d felt his child—their child—move in her womb. It suddenly felt more real. And he wanted to claim her all over again because of it. She wore his ring, she had his name, she carried his babe, and now he wanted her in his bed. For good.
He was beginning to admit to himself that he wasallowedto want Caro,allowedto desire a family, the likes of which he’d never known. With the volatility of his upbringing and the poor examples his parents had provided, Gideon had always felt somewhat inadequate and untutored when it came to relationships beyond the carnal. How could he ever hope to be sufficient when he had no training? No one after whom he might model his behavior? These first few weeks of marriage had taught him one thing: He could make up for a great many shortcomings if he just continued to adore and care for Caroline as he always had.
They were married now, besides. Didn’t that mean they could pursue their physical desires to their hearts’ content without fear of it destroying their friendship?
He had never known a marriage forced from mutual trust and affection, but he’d heard they existed—like unicorns and dragons in fairytales. Was it possible that this was what he could have with Caro? Could he have been so lucky that he could continue to have her in his lifeandshare in their mutual physical desires?
As much as he longed for it, as torturous as it was to sleep one room away from her and not possess her, as much as his body screamed at him to reenact their night of passion, he forced himself to wait. He was still adamant that they move on her time.
Caro had said they might “perhaps” revisit what they’d shared; she had not expressly invited him to her bed that instant. The last thing he wished was for her to feel obligated to perform simply because she was his wife.
Then again…
The darkening of her eyes, the catch in her breath, the slight heaving of her bosom over her deep-green gown… Gideon was a man who knew when a woman desired him, andthathad been desire.
He groaned as a fresh wave of longing pounded through his veins like a tidal wave of liquid sunlight and shot straight to his groin. Not a day went by that he didn’t contemplate the sounds Caro had made as he guided her to completion again and again. How wet she’d been. How she’d tasted.
