Chapter 21
A Rude Awakening.
Ben stretched luxuriously and turned onto his side.
The room he’d taken at The Mermaid was wonderfully sumptuous, the bed the most comfortable he could ever remember sleeping in, and he allowed himself to drift, his thoughts dwelling pleasurably upon the notion that he would soon share this delightfully snug space with Izzy.
Not soon enough, he thought impatiently, knowing they had days to wait yet.
The wedding had been set for the fifth of April, and it was becoming hard to endure when Izzy was so close at hand and yet so far away.
Sleep tugged him under again, and he knew nothing more until a dream caught him up, the feel of a delicate, cool hand sliding over his shoulder, the gentle bounce of the mattress as his beautiful bride slid in behind him, her lush breasts pressing against his back.
Ben sighed, exceptionally content with the way the dream was progressing, especially as it felt so real, he could almost believe it really was Izzy’s hand toying with the hair on his chest, sliding down his abdomen to his— He bolted awake, sitting up so suddenly Izzy squealed with alarm, almost falling to the floor.
Ben stared at her, hardly able to believe his eyes.
“Izzy!” he exclaimed stupidly.
“Ben,” she replied, her expression one of pure innocence. Well, that ought to be enough to tell him it was no dream. His lovely betrothed only looked that innocent when she was being particularly dreadful.
“How?” he demanded, finding it difficult to string a sentence together, not least because her beautiful breasts were right there, and it was hard to concentrate on much else. “How are you here? Did anyone see you? What the devil are you doing?”
Izzy, whose hand had remained against his stomach despite the shock of his awakening, lifted one eyebrow. “I thought that was self-explanatory.”
Her hand drifted lower, and she bit her lip, her blue eyes growing wider than usual behind the pretty spectacles she wore. “Oh.”
Ben sucked in a breath as her fingers curled around his arousal.
“Oh,” he said, the sound deeper and rather choked.
“I couldn’t wait any longer,” she said, sounding a little breathless now. “I’m ready for my adventure to begin. Please continue with the ravishment you began at the Duchess of Whitney’s ball before I run mad.”
Ben looked down at her lovely slim hand as it explored the raging cockstand that was clamouring for her attention—more of her attention.
“I think it’s you doing the ravishing. Not that I’m complaining. Please do… carry on.”
He lay back against the pillows, vibrating with anticipation and staring at Izzy as she got to her knees beside him, exploring his body with a delightful lack of embarrassment.
“How are you here?” he asked in wonder. “I thought I’d dreamed you.”
She flashed a delighted grin. “I waited until I knew Mrs Fairway was in the kitchen, preparing for breakfast. Mrs King has gone with her husband to watch them break ground on the site of the new hotel, and most of the town have gone to watch too. It’s only lazy slugabeds like you who are not yet up and about. ”
“Oh, I’m up,” he said, folding his arms behind his head and leering at her like a pantomime villain.
Izzy snorted. “You are dreadful.”
“Says you,” he retorted. “But I don’t mind. Be as dreadful as you like. I’m up to your weight.”
She took him at his word, caressing him with interest, watching his face and judging what he liked by his reaction.
Lord, but she was a quick study, learning how to please him far quicker than he could have anticipated.
She stroked, slow and languid, until he was beside himself and could endure no more.
“Enough!” he exclaimed. “You’re too good at this. I’ll never last. I’ll go mad.”
He turned her onto her back, gazing down at her as he traced the line of her jaw, lingering on the silken skin of her cheek.
How on earth had a fellow like him, with his messy life, his appalling sire and the various and appalling scandals that blackened the family name, won such an extraordinary girl?
If she wasn’t so very real, so vividly alive in his arms, he might believe he really was dreaming, even now.
“Why are you here, love? Tell me honestly. What is it you want? I don’t want to take anything for granted.”
She laughed at that, reaching for him, her hands at his neck as she spread her legs, letting a slow, devilish smile curve her over her gorgeous mouth.
“Good Lord, Ben, do I need to write it down? I can’t believe I can be any more obvious.
Make me yours, like you ought to have done that night in the attic.
I don’t want to wait another moment. I love you.
You love me. A few days more will only drive us distracted. ”
He laughed, gazing down at her with too much emotion swelling in his chest to speak what he felt. Instead, he said simply, “Yes, love. You are right, as always.”
So, he loved her, lavishing her with all the tenderness he felt.
His delicious Miss Honey returned kisses that made him ache, not just the sweet pain of desire, which was exquisite enough, but a sensation deep in his heart.
It eased the regrets of his past, allowing him to lay to rest the memories of those wretched rooms in Paris, of his mother lying dead, the bottle of laudanum she’d swallowed empty on the bare floorboards beside her.
It gave those dreadful memories context, taking away the pain and the guilt of a boy who’d been powerless to fight the forces that had crushed better men than him.
For Isabelle Honeywell, he would be a man of whom she could be proud, a man whom—God willing—their children could be proud, so they need never fear speaking the name Midwinter.
Izzy sighed as he slid the hard length of his arousal against her, her hands moving over him with a possessive touch that lit him up inside.
She arched up towards him, exposing her beautiful throat and Ben lowered his head, kissing his way down and down to her splendid breasts.
The delicate pink tips dragged enticingly against his chest, and he shifted lower, desperate to taste them.
Covering one rosy bud with his mouth, he sucked, satisfaction thrumming through him as she gasped, her hands sinking into his hair, holding him in place as he released her nipple, returning to toy with it, grazing it with his teeth.
Her breathing sped as he lavished the same attention on her other breast, not wishing to be unfair or neglectful.
He pressed his hips forward again and she moaned.
His hard flesh slid easily now, her body slick and ready for him.
A good thing, he thought desperately, for he was losing what grip he had on his self-control.
A healthy, vigorous male whose appearance most women seemed to find appealing, Ben had never been short of females to warm his bed, yet never in his life had he wanted anyone as he wanted this woman—his woman.
There was a world of difference between a quick tumble with a willing wench and this overpowering combination of lust and love that seemed to arise from his very soul.
Izzy’s eyes flicked open, and she stared hazily at him, a smile curving her beautiful mouth.
“Please,” she whispered, and in that moment, he knew, not that there had been a doubt, that he would do anything to please her, anything to keep her safe, to keep her with him.
Moving carefully, he found the opening to her body, pressing gently as his eager arousal throbbed and clamoured, demanding he take her now, this instant.
But he forced himself to slow, to ease forward by degrees, though his muscles trembled with the effort of holding back.
Bit by bit, he pushed forward and retreated, feeling her intimate muscles clench and relax as the fierce heat of her enveloped him.
He bit back a groan as her breathing sped, feeling her tighten around him so exquisitely that his mind whited out.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmured, taking her mouth again in a lush, decadent kiss.
She returned the kiss with eager enthusiasm, as her body softened, and Ben thrust forward, one fast movement that pushed him deep inside her.
A startled cry left her mouth, and he soothed her, kissing her tenderly, telling her how lovely she was, how perfect she felt, until she was ready once more, and then he moved.
At first, she was still, gazing up at him with a slightly startled expression, but as ever she was quick to learn, and moved with him, matching his rhythm as her hands caressed and explored.
She mapped the long line of his back, clutched at his buttocks, urging him deeper as she tilted her hips and Ben choked out a laugh.
“Don’t…” he said, half desperate as the pleasure of it threatened to overwhelm him.
She sent him a curious glance. “Why not?”
“Won’t last, you… you feel too good,” he managed before burying his face against her neck, breathing in the scent that he adored, that was uniquely hers and hers alone.
Naturally, the wicked creature did it again and again, her breathing becoming increasingly erratic, her body clenching around his until Ben was too wild to think straight, taken over by the intense pleasure of it, of her. He let out a harsh sound, his body shaking, muscles locking down.
“Don’t stop,” she cried out, clutching at him.
Somehow, he held on, long enough for her to arch beneath him, her fingers digging into his arms as she gasped, as the waves of pleasure rolled over her, and then he was gone too, lost in the lush heat of her body, in the extraordinary pleasure of sharing himself with her.
He shattered, spending himself inside her again and again until they collapsed together, sweaty and breathless and laughing with delight at the wonder of it all.