chapter 4
When the door to the chapel shut behind the minister and his friend, Quinn lifted Rose into his arms.
“My wife.”
“My husband.”
He started walking them toward the door.
“Where are we going?”
“To a small cottage.” Quinn had arranged for a place nearby, where they could spend a few hours alone, knowing there would be no time to take her to his own townhouse, which was clear across town.
When they reached the house that was tucked away in a side street, he wasn’t disappointed. The owner had made sure the inside of the small cottage was clean and comfortable. He headed for the door that led to the bedroom. Clean linen covered the bed in the corner, and a single candle burned on a chest of drawers nearby.
While he’d hoped for a more lavish environment to make Rose his, he knew there was no time to lose. He was leaving at first light, and consummating their marriage was paramount. It was the only way of making sure that her father couldn’t marry her off to one of the titled suitors who, even now, were hovering in the ballroom for their chance at claiming her. She would have to wait for him and him alone.
He set Rose back on her feet and closed the door behind them. When she turned to him in the dim light, he recognized her heavy breathing and her flushed face.
“Don’t be afraid, my love. I won’t hurt you. I’ll be the gentlest of lovers. Your pleasure is my pleasure.” He meant it. Now that he knew she would surrender to him, he would take his time to create a memory she would look back at with joy until he returned.
“I’m not afraid,” she whispered, her lips trembling nevertheless.
She was so brave, his beautiful Rose.
Slowly he lifted his hands and stroked along her neck down to her shoulders, where the puffed sleeves of her gown sat like little butterflies, delicate and nearly transparent. Gently, he took hold of the thin fabric and tugged on it, inching it down her arms.
Her breath hitched, her lips parting in the same instant as she lowered her lids to avoid his gaze.
“Rose, look at me.”
She lifted her eyes.
“You should feel no shame. What is between us is pure and honest.”
He moved his hands to her chest, slowly pushing her bodice lower. Without the restraints of a corset, the fabric moved out of the way, freeing her breasts, delivering them to his hungry eyes. Dark rose buds sat on pink mounds of flesh that despite the lack of any support were firm. Her breasts weren’t large, but they were perfect in shape and form. He feasted his eyes on the sight, unable to get enough.
Rose’s eyes squeezed shut. He bent to her, kissing her lids one after the other.
“Oh, Rose, you are beautiful. I am the luckiest man in all of England.”
Then he allowed his hands to roam. As he palmed her breasts, feeling her warm flesh in his hands for the first time, his cock twitched in anticipation.
“Tell me, my love, what am I holding in my hands?”
Her eyes widened.
“Tell me,” he coaxed.
“M . . . my br . . . breasts.”
He gave her a soft smile. “Men call them tits.”
At the crude word, he saw her pull in a breath.
“Yes, and you have gorgeous tits, my beautiful wife. The most beautiful tits I have ever seen.”
Her cheeks flushed even more, but there was no anger in her eyes, instead he saw signs of desire there, of passion, of lust. Yes, Rose, his lovely, proper Rose, had a wild streak in her. He’d always known it; in fact, it was what had made him fall in love with her. And it was why he’d known she would surrender to him, because she wanted it too. She wanted to experience that wildness, that passion. With him.
Bending his head, he captured one beautiful taut nipple with his lips and sucked on it.
“Ohhh!” she exclaimed, almost immediately thrusting her chest out so he could take more of her.
“You like that?” he mumbled, continuing to lick and suck her responsive breast.
“Yes, oh yes, Quinn. It feels . . . it feels so . . . good.”
He released her breast only to lavish the same attention on the other one. When he felt her hand on his neck to hold him to her, he couldn’t suppress a grin. Oh yes, she would be a wonderful wife, and an even more amazing lover. And knowing that he would never get enough of her, they would have many children, a whole estate full of them.
Not taking his mouth off her breast, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, where he set her on her feet. Hastily, he took off his coat and opened the buttons of his waistcoat, feeling his body heat up as if a furnace were burning inside him.
Only when he’d freed himself of his waistcoat, did he allow himself to lay his hands on her again. Instantly, she melted into him. He tugged on the dress, loosening a few of the fastenings in the back, and pushed it to the ground. Her petticoat and chemise followed. When she stood before him only in her drawers, her arms went around her torso as if to protect herself.
He took them and gently moved them to her sides. “Never hide yourself from me. Beauty like yours should never be hidden.”
Moments later, she lay on her back on the bed with Quinn slowly untying the strings of her drawers. Her hand clamped over his, making him look at her face.
“I’m scared.”
He pressed a kiss on her hand. “I am too.”
“You are?” Her eyes stared at him, wide and surprised.
“Yes, because if I can’t pleasure you, if you don’t enjoy what I’m going to do, I will lose you. And I can’t lose you. I need you, Rose.”
A relieved smile spread on her face and all the way to her eyes. “If you do anything close to what you do to me when you kiss me, I’m certain I will enjoy it.”
Her words made his heart stutter. Was she telling him that she found his kisses arousing?
“Tell me what you feel when I kiss you.”
Her eyes closed half way. “I get this warm feeling. All warm and . . . tingling.”
“Where? Where does it tingle?” he urged her.
Rose pulled her lower lip between her teeth and that action alone brought him to the brink of release. How much longer he could hold back before he had to thrust his hard cock into her, he didn’t know.
“There,” she whispered almost inaudibly, hesitantly moving her hand lower, releasing his and bringing it to the apex of her thighs. “There.”
A moan escaped him at the knowledge of what his kisses did to her. Because they did the same to him.
“I can do more than just make you tingle there,” he promised and slowly moved her drawers over her hips, revealing her most secret place, then pulling them down her legs. He discarded them carelessly and quickly looked at what he’d unveiled.
The canopy that guarded her sweet cunny was a dusting of blond curls, barely hiding the rosy flesh beneath. The scent of her arousal wafted to him, enveloping him in a cocoon of desire and lust. He’d been with other women, sown his oats, but never before had the scent of a woman caused him to lose his senses as with Rose.
He tore his shirt from his torso, perspiring at the mere thought of what he was about to do.
“I will cherish this, cherish you,” he whispered, spreading her thighs as if he’d done so a thousand times before.
Then he sank between her legs, lowering his head to her sex.
“What are you—?”
But he cut off her surprised question by placing his lips onto her soft curls and soaking in her intoxicating scent.
“But you can’t . . . ” she tried to protest, her voice dying with a moan before it came to life again. “Surely, this is not proper.”
He lifted his head for a moment and unleashed a satisfied grin. “Oh, my love, but it is very proper. A man who doesn’t want to eat his wife’s sweet cunny, is a Philistine. He has no sense of taste or pleasure. And I pride myself on both.”
With a moan, he brushed his lips against her sex and took his first lick. His tongue swiped over her nether lips, those plump folds that glistened with her desire, and carried her taste into his mouth. Her nectar was sweet and tangy at the same time, so many different flavors bursting in his mouth in a symphony of delight. Ah, yes, she would be a wonderful wife, one whose bedchamber he would visit nightly. In fact, he didn’t see the need to have his own bedchamber. He would simply move into hers, sleep with her in his arms every night. A shocking proposition, yet one he hoped she would agree to.
When he felt her twist under his mouth and heard soft moans and sighs—hers not his—fill the small chamber, he knew that he could give his sweet Rose a night to remember. Taking his time, he spread her legs wider, opening her folds, testing and tasting, exploring her, never neglecting the bundle of flesh that sat just at the base of her curls. Her pearl was engorged, red and swollen, and with each lick he delivered, with each swipe of his tongue over the sensitive organ, she issued sounds of pleasure.
Her naked breasts heaved, her breaths coming in short pants, and her skin started to glisten, a thin sheen of perspiration spreading over her entire body, evidence of the heat that was building inside her. The same kind of heat that was inside him, ready to burst to the surface.
His cock pulsated angrily against the flap of his trousers. He tried to ignore it as best he could. First, he wanted to give her pleasure. And he could only do that as long as he kept his own lust leashed. Once his cock was thrusting into her, there was no way he could keep the passion inside him under control. He would pound into her like a wild animal, unable to see to her pleasure. He’d desired her for too long to destroy this perfect moment with haste, despite the fact he was starving for her.
“Oh, yes,” she moaned, her hands digging into his hair, holding him to her, urging him for more.
His tongue lashed against her pearl, rapidly and with single-minded purpose: to show her ultimate ecstasy, to teach her the pleasures her body was capable of. Pleasures he could unleash in her, share with her.
With his finger, he stroked against her cleft, gently probing. God, she was tight. He would split her in half if he tried to plunge into her. How could she possibly get used to him? There was so little time; he had only tonight.
With trepidation, Quinn slowly pressed his finger between her plump nether lips, parting them. His tongue never ceasing to caress her swollen pearl, he drove his digit into her tight opening. An instinctive tensing of her muscles was her response, so he doubled his efforts on her precious button, licking it harder and faster.
Rose’s body relaxed. It allowed him to drive his finger into her to the last knuckle. Warmth and wetness engulfed him, and the knowledge that his cock would feel those same muscles gripping him tightly in a few minutes made his heart race like a wild horse galloping to escape a captor.
When he started moving his finger in and out of her, her hips undulated, moving in rhythm with his gentle thrusts. Yes, she was a natural, her body telling her what she needed. Her panting became more pronounced, her breaths faster and shorter, sounds of pleasure spurting from her lips like water cascading over a waterfall.
“Ah, Rose, my Rose,” he murmured against her flesh.
Her body tensed. “Quinn . . . I need . . . I . . . I want,” she whispered.
He knew what she was unable to express. With his tongue he pressed hard against her pearl while his finger delivered a deep thrust.
A strangled cry filled the cottage. Not one of pain, but one of pure pleasure, for her muscles started convulsing around his finger, her hips moving wildly as her climax took her.
“Oh God!” she cried out.
Seconds stretched longer as he continued to gently move inside her, continued to lick her quivering pearl, wanting to extend, to prolong her ecstasy.
When he finally looked up as her body started to calm, he gazed into the face of a new Rose: one who looked at him with wonder and amazement in her eyes. He’d done that to her, and he swore that he would do everything in his power to make her feel this way for the rest of their lives.
“Quinn, my Quinn.”
He lifted himself. With an efficiency that was new to him, he discarded his trousers. When he stood in front of her with not a stitch on him, Rose’s eyes dropped to his groin.
His hand went to his fully erect cock. It was so rigid, so pumped full with blood, that it curved against his stomach. And his balls were pulled just as tight.
“You’re so . . . so . . . big.”
A flash of fear crossed her features.
Slowly he lowered himself to her, sank down between her spread legs.
“You’re wet for me now. I’ll slip into you without resistance. I’ll fill you more completely than my fingers ever could. And you’ll hold me there until we both experience ecstasy together.”
Slanting his lips over hers, he kissed her gently, let her taste herself on his tongue. She moaned into his mouth and he went deeper, driving his tongue into her sweet cavern just as his cock nudged against her nether lips. As if she knew what to do, she pulled up her knees, adjusting her angle.
Unable to restrain himself, he thrust inside her. Her muffled cry made him stop instantly. He’d burst through her maidenhead. She was his.
“Easy, my love,” he cooed. “The pain will disappear in a second.”
She nodded, her eyes squinting.
“My brave Rose. You’re my wife now. Say it, call me your husband.”
Her eyes opened wide. “My husband. You’re my husband now.”
“Yes,” he whispered and pulled back, withdrawing almost completely from her warm sheath. “And now your husband will make love to you until you come apart once more.”
As he plunged back into her welcoming depth and took her lips once more, her arms and legs wrapped around him as if she were trying to make sure he didn’t leave her.
With every thrust, every stroke, and every moan, their bodies moved more in synch, adjusting to each other, learning each other. Every stroke brought him deeper into her warm cave, her muscles gripping him like a tight fist, imprisoning him in a cage he never wanted to escape.
It was like a dance. At first unsure and uneven, uncertain what the other would do, but with every minute that their bodies moved together, with every thrust he delivered, every kiss he captured, they fused, became one.
Quinn felt her hands on him, roaming his back, moving to his buttocks, her fingernails digging into his flesh, urging him on. But he tried to hold back, knowing her flesh was too fragile to go any harder than he was already taking her. If he did, there was no telling what would happen. He wanted their first time to be perfect, to make her want more, to wait for him.
But Rose continued to pull him harder to her as she slung her legs tightly around him, digging her heels into his backside.
“Oh, God, Rose! You have to stop doing that or I’ll forget myself.”
She gave him a startled look. “You don’t like it? I’m not doing it right?”
When he noticed her retreat into herself, he stopped her. “No. No. You’re doing this too well. It’s better than I ever imagined. But if you continue like this, I won’t be able to pull out when it’s time.”
He wasn’t a cad. Taking her virginity was one thing, but risking leaving her with child while he wouldn’t come back for at least a year was unacceptable.
“When it’s time?” she whispered back, her forehead creasing.
“Before I spend.”
“Oh.”
Quinn pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you, my Rose, my wife, my everything.”
Then he took her lips and allowed himself to forget everything except the woman in his arms. With more passion than before, with more determination and fervor, he kissed her, showing her that she belonged to him, that she would always be his. And her response was equally untamed.
Their bodies intertwined, they moved as one. The makeshift surroundings forgotten, the dire circumstances pushed to the background, Quinn allowed only one thought to remain: Rose was his. The woman he would love forever, the woman who would bear his children one day.
Her glistening skin sliding against him, her hands stroking his heated flesh, he felt as if he were in a dream, but this was real. Rose was in his arms, connected to him. She had accepted him, his love, his body. And she had given him her most prized possession: her virginity.
That thought made him plunge deeper and harder into her. The knowledge that she wanted him, despite the fact that he was a nobody, despite the fact that her future with him was uncertain, made his heart swell. She possessed his heart now, she owned him. Just as he was the keeper of her heart now.
“I love you, Quinn.”
At her words, his balls tightened, the fire in them threatening to incinerate him from the inside.
“Always!”
With a hard thrust, he drove into her again, then slid his hand between their bodies, searching and finding her sensitive pearl. He stroked his finger against the moist flesh.
“Once more, Rose, once more. Fly with me.”
When he felt her muscles spasm, squeezing his cock even tighter than she already was, he lost all coherent thought. Only pleasure mattered now. Release was all he could think of. Unable to hold onto his control, he let himself fall.
The burning in his balls signaled his imminent release. With a groan, he pulled from her sheath, too late to avoid spilling his seed over the insides of her thighs, rather than into the sheets. His heart was racing.
Rose was his wife now. His lover. His forever.