Chapter Four #2
His mouth moved from hers to kiss her cheeks and chin, even her eyelids. She became aware of a throbbing sensation in her most secret place, and of a hardened length on Kieran’s body that pressed against it, increasing the heat she felt.
“Oh God, Diantha.” His breath puffed hot in her ear just before his teeth closed gently on the soft lobe.
She gave a strangled cry at the soft-sharp caress and he lifted his head, panting. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t.” She felt giddy, gasping for breath. She feared her tightly corseted lungs would burst. “You just startled me. I liked it.”
He straightened, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Did you?”
She followed his movement, not wanting to break contact. At his question, she nodded. “You don’t mind?”
He went utterly still before lifting a hand to caress her cheek with his knuckles.
“Diantha, listen to me.” His manner became serious.
“I do not mind in the least that you enjoy my touch. Your pleasure in our physical relations is as important as mine. Do you understand?” She did not entirely, but she nodded anyway.
“Conversely, if I do something in bed you dislike, I want you to tell me that too.”
She nodded, her brow puckering. “I will, but we’re not in bed.”
A chuckle shook him. “Not yet. Remember, I only gave you three days’ grace.”
“But that was for conjugal duties. We’re not engaged in those right now.” Her eyes widened. “Are we?”
He smiled down at her tenderly. “Let’s just say we’re engaged in the preliminaries.”
“Really?” She blinked. “Eliza was right, they are delightful. Are we going to keep doing this until dinner?”
He struggled to keep a straight face and lost. Laughing, he hugged her closer. “I fear if we did, we would scandalize everyone else on board.” He bent to whisper against her lips. “But we could continue a while longer.”
She did not know how she could feel so warm and yet shiver as he kissed her again. She sagged against him, lips parted as he licked and nibbled the sensitive skin of her neck. “Kieran, oh yes, that feels very good.” Blood pounded in her ears until it resolved into a sharp rapping on the door.
He heard it too and muffled a groan against her throat. Straightening, he held her close as Florette’s voice came from the passageway.
“Milady, I cannot wait any longer to press your dinner gown.”
Diantha looked up apologetically. “She really does need to start now if I’m going to be ready in time for dinner. It has a great many flounces. And she’ll need time to arrange my hair.”
Kieran raised his voice. “We shall be dining in our suite this evening. Lady Rossburn can wear what she’s got on.”
“Oui, milord. Shall I inform Davison of the change in plans?” A hint of laughter hid behind the question.
“That would be most thoughtful of you.” He grinned as Diantha frowned at his high-handedness. She lightly pushed at his chest.
“I shall require you to do my hair before dinner, Florette.”
“Oui, milady. I shall return later.”
Kieran’s mouth covered hers before she could reply. A few minutes later, however, he lifted his head with a smothered curse.
“The kitchen doesn’t know we’re dining in here.
” After a last hard kiss, he rearranged his neckcloth with the help of the mirror over the tiny washstand.
“I think it would be best if we occupied ourselves separately before dinner.” Seeing her disappointed expression, he arched a wicked eyebrow. “Savor the anticipation.”
Diantha wasn’t sure if he meant the meal or something else.
After his departure, she tried to write in her journal but could not formulate coherent sentences. Finally, she gave up and dozed in her berth until Florette bustled in.
In the dressing room, the normally placid maid hummed under her breath as she brushed out the rich brown hair and pinned it up again.
She took especial care tonight, even taking part of it down and repinning it until she was satisfied.
Supposing she enjoyed having extra time to fuss over the hairstyle, Diantha sat patiently under her ministrations.
When the maid finished, she regarded her reflection with some surprise. Instead of following the latest fashion plates, the maid had smoothed her hair back into loose waves that looked as if they would fall out of their own accord. When she quizzed her, Florette just shrugged.
“I thought something different would do for tonight.” A small smile played about the older woman’s mouth as she turned to gather up unused hairpins.
Hoping the mass would stay in place, she entered the dining room where Kieran waited for her.
His look of admiration as he took in her appearance reassured her, although her confidence faltered when the steward opened a bottle of champagne.
She had not touched a drop of alcohol since her miserable wedding day.
As if guessing her thoughts, Kieran poured out a glass and handed it to her. “Don’t be afraid to drink it. You won’t get a hangover from one or two glasses of wine.” She accepted it and took a cautious sip. “Have you ever had champagne before?”
She shook her head and he lifted his glass. “To firsts, then.” She took another drink from her glass, enjoying the tickle of bubbles over her tongue.
A knock announced the arrival of the steward with dinner. The ship’s kitchen lacked the capacity to serve multicourse meals, but the quality for firstclass passengers equaled that of the finest hotels. Starting with barley soup, they worked their way through roast pork, stuffing, and haricots.
The presence of the stewards required their conversation to be general in nature, but Diantha sensed a difference in her husband from their previous dinners in their suite.
He focused on her more closely, and his speech lost its formality as he described his travels in Italy.
It almost seemed to her that he regarded her as more of a person this evening.
He even teased her about having a sweet tooth when the steward placed dishes of pale custard speckled with nutmeg in front of them.
Naturally he would never behave so intimately while dining with others, but she found herself worrying less about his disapproval.
When she stood to withdraw to her own room, she repressed a sigh of regret.
Doubtless he would now visit the saloon for his evening brandy.
Florette waited for her, ready to help her out of her dress. When she saw what the maid had laid out, she emitted a small shriek. “Where on earth did that come from?”
The maid lifted up a short-sleeved confection with a bodice consisting largely of lace. “It was in your trunk, milady.”
“My mother would never order something like this.” She looked over her shoulder, half expecting Mama to enter the room in a blaze of outrage.
“Well, whoever did, it is quite charming. If milady will hold still, I will unbutton your gown.” With Florette’s assistance, she donned the scanty nightgown.
It looked even more shameless on. Her aureoles were visible through the fine lace bodice, and the wide neck nearly bared her shoulders.
The only thing keeping it in place was a line of three ribbon ties.
It had a matching robe of sorts, made of more nearly transparent lace.
She scurried into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin as soon as Florette bid her good night.
Even her berth seemed different tonight.
Then she realized why. The maid had pulled out the extension to double its width.
She had not noticed earlier thanks to her distraction over her indecent nightwear.
A light tap sounded on the connecting door to Kieran’s room. “Diantha? May I enter?”
As her tongue suddenly glued itself to the roof of her mouth, it was fortunate he let himself in.
His appearance undid her composure further, for he wore the wine-colored robe and a pair of pyjama trousers, as he had on their wedding night.
The corner of his mouth quirked up as she stared at him, clutching the sheets in a death-grip under her chin.
“Surely you’re not surprised after our earlier encounter?”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be.” She licked dry lips. “But you could have been more specific about your intentions at dinner.”
“With the stewards in the room? That would have been highly improper.” For some reason, he appeared to find her nerves highly amusing. When he seated himself on the edge of the berth, he grinned as she automatically scooted her legs away from his rear end.
“You enjoyed our kisses this afternoon.” Kieran placed a light hand on her ankle, rubbing his thumb over the bone. She relaxed marginally at the unthreatening touch, but regarded him warily. “Would you like to start with another?”
The question of what exactly they were starting leaped to the tip of her tongue.
As she opened her mouth to ask, he increased the pressure on her leg and ran his palm firmly up her calf to just above her knee.
She gasped at the sensation of warmth from his big hand on the lowest part of her thigh, even through the sheets.
“You said if you did something in bed I disliked, I should tell you!”
“Do you dislike this then?” His fingertips gently kneaded her muscles as he slid closer to the head of the bed. An alarming flash of pleasure coursed up to her very core.
She shook her head. “No, but it scares me.”
“Because it’s new?” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. She nodded. Mercifully his hand left her thigh, although her skin still burned where it had rested.
He leaned forward. “Then let’s try something we know you like.” His lips skimmed hers once before fastening greedily onto them. Pleasure jolted through her. Forgetting about the sheets, she wrapped her arms around him to pull him closer.
He cradled her head in one hand as the other slipped around her waist. Eagerly, she opened herself to his searching tongue.