His gaze went shuttered for a moment “I’ve only said it to a wife once,” he said in a deliberately casual voice, choosing to ignore her provocation in the interests of conjugal harmony. “And I must say, I find it enormously pleasing”-his hand came up in a lazy gesture-“looking at you so festively arrayed.”
“I was hoping to impress you.” She responded to his pleasantry with equal cordialness.
“And well you have.”
“You have time, I hope.”
“If I didn’t, I’d damn well make time. But seeing as how it’s my wedding night, you have my undivided attention.” He pulled his cravat loose.
“Can you tell what’s missing?”
He shook his head. He’d purchased whatever the jewelers had brought to Hargreave House and he’d not been attentive to the manner of her gifts when Caro had opened them.
“Would you like me to undress you?” she asked. “Sometimes you like it.”
He dipped his head in deference to her allure. “When I can stand to wait.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only out-of-control person.”
For a man who had spent a great deal of time playing at love, he recognized one of the more pertinent motives behind his marriage. Only Caro made him frantic. She always had. “You noticed,” he said with a smile. “But we have all the time in the world now. We needn’t be out of control. Undress me if you wish.”
“If I were your harem houri, I would have to undress you.”
At her tone of voice, his gaze narrowed and he took in her sudden shifting movement. Rolling onto her side, she lay propped on one elbow, her plump breasts suspended in soft, elliptical mounds, the sweeping curve of her hips gently oscillating.
“You can feel something inside you.” He watched her small rocking motion. “It must be large enough to make a difference.”
“It’s making a vast difference.” She briefly shut her eyes. “I may not be able to undress you… after all.”
“If you’re incapable of carrying out your duties tonight, my sweet houri,” he drawled, an undefined edge to his voice, “should I call for another of my harem ladies?”
How many times had she seen him like that- dark and handsome, ready for sex and play. And while he was not, in fact, some pasha or caliph with a harem, in his own way, he had one. Although his ladies were captive only to his great beauty and sexual expertise. “No, please, my lord,” she said, breathy with need. “I didn’t mean that. Please, let me stay. I haven’t been allowed in your bed for months.”
“I’ve been gone.” His dark gaze holding hers was self-willed and commanding. “You know you’re my favorite wife when I’m home,” he said, a kind of disengaged promise in the mildness of his tone.
“You don’t take me with you anymore,” she noted with a small petulance.
He couldn’t help but smile at her jeunesse doree pose. “Perhaps, I may again.”
“If I please you.”
“If you don’t displease me. You always please me with your body. It’s your temper that often displeases me.”
“I’ve changed, my lord. Ask anyone.”
“We’ll see. Come.” He held out his hand.
She immediately rolled from the bed in a shimmer of jeweled light and delicious sensation and came to stand before him.
He ran his hands over the glittering necklaces resting on her breasts. “You do these justice.”
“I’m pleased you think so, my lord.”
His erection surged at the docility in her tone. “The eunuchs tell me you’re progressing in your lessons.” He took her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and tweaked them lightly. “You’ve not had to be disciplined for your temper of late.”
“I’ve been on my best behavior, my lord, so I could be admitted back into your good graces. You have but to test my accommodating nature, my lord, and you’ll be gratified, I assure you.”
With a gentle squeeze, he released her nipples. “Undress me, then, and we’ll see if your temper has improved.”
“You’ll see it has, my lord.”
“You must fold my clothes and put them away.”
His instructions brought a momentary spark to her eyes, but as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. “As you wish, my lord.”
“And you must be wet for me.”
“I am, my lord.”
“I’ll see for myself. Later…” He pointed at the buttons on his waistcoat.
And she did as she was bid. His coat and waistcoat were removed and folded away, his shirt as well.
“Now, my shoes,” he said. “Kneel.”
That small hesitation again, but she obeyed, the descent to her knees, shifting the object inside her, bringing her to a breathless standstill.
“Are you capable of serving me?” He touched her bent head.
“Yes.” She drew in a shallow breath. “Yes, my lord.”
He lifted one foot and she slid off his evening shoe, each movement intensifying the throbbing ache deep inside.
“Look at me.” He snapped his fingers. “Show me how wet you are.”
With effort, she concentrated on his words, gazing up past his blatant erection to meet his eyes.
“Put your finger in and show me that you’re ready.” So might some satrap speak, with utter authority.
“Here, my lord?” Her voice trembled, all sensation focused on her pulsing need.
“Yes. There. On your knees.”
Gently stroking her head as though she were a favorite pet, he watched her finger disappear between her legs, saw her shudder faintly, his erection rising higher in response. A moment later, having regained a modicum of composure, she raised her hand to him.
“Bring it closer,” he commanded.
And she lifted her hand higher.
Her finger was drenched with glistening liquid. He touched it lightly, scooping up a dab of fluid on his fingertip. He raised his finger to one nostril. “I like your smell,” he said, as though he were her vetting agent. “I always have.”
“You used to say you’d know me in the dark, my lord.”
He smiled. How many times had he inhaled her fragrance in the dark. “I’d know you anywhere.” Moving his hand, he placed it near her nose so she could draw in the scent of herself. “You’re in rut, I’d say. Are you ready for me?”
“I am, my lord. May I, in all humbleness, ask the same of you?”
He glanced down. “Open my trousers and see for yourself.”
“Would you prefer me kneeling or standing, my lord?”
He felt his penis swell at the sudden image that came to mind. “Kneeling. So you can take me in your mouth.”
“Yes, my lord.”
How did she do it? Make him want her even more with that breathy acquiescence? Willing women were a norm in his life, so it wasn’t the compliance, but rather, knowing how rarely Caro yielded her independence that brought him to rut.
All his senses were riveted on her touch as she slid his buttons free and eased his trousers down. Stepping out of them, he kicked them aside, suddenly past any obligatory folding of clothes. And when she fumbled with the small pearl buttons on his undershorts, he muttered, “I’ll do it”
A second later he was stepping out of his shorts and a second after that, he sucked in his breath. She’d taken his penis between her hands and was forcing the stiff length downward to her mouth. As she touched the small slit in the tip with her tongue, his breath caught in his throat and when she slid the engorged head past her lips and into her mouth, he felt the silken friction jar his body like a hammer blow.
Tamping down a ramming speed mentality, he grasped her ruby earrings, exerted a slight pressure and tipped her face up so he could see her eyes. “So docile, darling. You have improved,” he whispered, her eyes huge, her mouth stuffed full. “If you continue to please me, I’ll send for you more often. Would you like that?”
Unable to speak, she nodded as any well-trained houri would.
Her meek submission perversely pleased him; he hadn’t realized he was despotic. Or perhaps other women had never inspired his possessive impulse. Take a little more, darling.“ He pulled gently on her earrings, drawing her closer and another portion of his erection disappeared into her mouth. ”Do you like servicing me?“ His voice was hushed, fresh blood pumping into his rigid penis with each powerful beat of his heart.