Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Arriving home after two long days on the road for a meeting that could have been a pamphlet, Cedric stepped in, expecting to find a calm house.
He found chaos.
Jumping out of the way of two footmen carrying a length of rope out the back door, he heard shouting. Concerned, he followed the footmen, and at the lands beyond the country estate, he began to trot to where his men were gathering.
When he saw what was happening, his blood went cold. Ariadne was wading into the wide natural pond for what looked like a kitten trying to save itself while balancing on a pond lily leaf.
It was failing.
What made him fearful was that Ariadne was wading in the deepest end of the pond, where she would soon dip at least four feet. He had no idea if she could swim, but he didn’t care.
“Your Grace!” Hunt shouted, “Please, come out. Let one of us get the cat.”
Ariadne ignored him.
“Your Grace—”
He was shucking off his jacket and running just as Ariadne grasped the kitten—and vanished under the surface.
Curing that he was five seconds away—five seconds that could kill her—he flung himself into the deep end and dove into the icy pond and, grabbing Ariadne around her waist, towed her back to land.
She was holding the ball of lint as if it were a bag of gold and highwaymen were around the corner. By the time they got to shore, she was drenched to her skin and he was not any better.
“Ariadne.” He growled as he carried her past the footmen. “What on earth were you thinking?”
“When I saw h-h-him —” her teeth started to chatter “—he w-w-wasn’t that far out. He saw m-me trying to get him, and he ran.”
“And you decide to drown yourself to get it?” he demanded, before he told a maid to have a bath ready for them as soon as possible.
“I-I—” she held the mewling furball tight as he entered the house and “I c-couldn’t let him perish.”
He let out an aggravated breath. “Not at the risk of you perishing? Are you not aware that you have an army of men who can swim and who could have saved the runt on your behalf?”
He took the stairs and carried her to her to his room and set her on her feet. The jarring texture of her rough dress and her wet skin irked him a bit before he plucked the fistful of claws from her and looked around to find somewhere to put it.
Not since Emily was a babe had he had something small in his hands.
“I’ll make him a bed,” Ariadne said before ducking into her room, and while he glared at the cat, he noticed something. One paw had six toes and a jutting appendage; he could only associate it with a thumb.
Ariadne returned with a pile of towels and made a bed in the corner with most of them before wrapping the kitten up in one and putting it on the bed.
A knock on the door had her turning, “Enter?”
Hunt came in, his expression blank like a slate. “Your water is ready.”
She scooped up the kitten and handed it to the butler, “Give him some food and water. Whatever scraps you have on hand.”
Hunt took the kitten as if he were cradling a bomb, holding it at arm’s length, only pausing to give Cedric a raised eyebrow as he left the room.
“Bath. Now.” He grunted while heading to the bathroom. “Between the trip to Manchester and fishing you out of the pond, I'm starved, cold, and in need of a hot bath.” Removing his shirt, he let it drop on the floor with a wet splat. “And not necessarily in that order.”
He tugged his cravat away and disrobed with inelegant haste. The layers fell to the ground as he carelessly shed them.
The overlarge tub sat in the middle of the room, and he wanted to get into it as quickly as possible.
Striding to Ariadne, he began to work on the laces at the back of her dress.
He peeled her layers away as one plucked the petals of a rose, and when she was down to her chemise, he whisked that away too.
“Get in the tub,” he ordered.
Sinking into the inviting water, Ariadne felt relief wash through her and the welcome heat. Moreover, a fire was in the room, warming it and imbuing it with a cozy glow.
Cedric was working on the last part of his clothes, pulling his boots away and dropping them with a thunk before he undid the fall in his trousers, pushed them down, taking his smallclothes with them.
His hard-paved chest and torso looked deliciously out of place against the faded floral wallpaper. The sleek muscles of his hairy thighs flexed, his male equipment swaying as he lowered himself into the tub behind her.
“Ah, that's better,” he sighed, leaning back against the lip and pulling her onto his chest. “By god, this helps.”
Her pulse unsteady, Ariadne let herself sag against his chest and allowed herself to revel in another first with him. Little by little, she allowed herself to lean into his touch while his arms lay on the edges of the tub.
His male member was against his thigh but quiescent. When he spoke, his tone held a note of authority that sent gooseflesh rippling over her skin. “Ariadne, do not do such a foolish thing again.”
“I won’t,” she said. “I promise.”
“Can you swim?” he asked.
“No,” she admitted. “Just like horse-riding, father thought it was unladylike.”
“I will teach you how,” he said firmly. “Swimming is a survival tactic, not a luxury.”
She craned her head to look over her shoulder. “Thank you.”
He reached for the bar of soap near them, and he handed it over; it was an aromatic blend of lemon and sandalwood specially formulated by his valet, and after ducking into the water to wet his hair, lathered it in.
“Let me do that for you,” she said while switching their positions.
Straddling his lap, she worked at the wet hair, digging her fingertips into his scalp. As he leaned in to tuck his head in the crook of her neck, she massaged the muscles along his neck. Cedric moaned as she massaged his scalp with deep strokes.
She wiped the suds from his forehead and reached for a pitcher to rinse his hair. When he came up and slicked his hair away, he said, “My turn.”
He sat behind her, washing her hair and massaging her scalp until she went lax with ease. His arms came around to cup her breasts while his mouth rested on her shoulder.
He curved his palm around one silk-covered breast, his blood rushing at the delicate heft. When his thumb grazed the not-so-subtle tip, she made a little sound that was a moan and a sigh.
So, he did it again. And again, until she arched into the caress and he knew she was ready for more. His mouth coasted over the back of her shoulder, leaving hot brands of kisses searing into her neck. He was not quiescent anymore.
Letting out a breath, she said, “You're stiff.”
“I'd say.” He muttered against her skin. “It's a problem I seem to develop whenever I'm around you.”
Her fingers dug deeper into his thigh as his kisses strayed down her spine. She held on to the tub’s edge, water sloshing as she squirmed from his scandalous kisses.
Suddenly, his lips vanished, and before she could gather herself, hands reached under her, and she was being lifted out of the tub. Cedric sat her on the floor, before he whirled a towel around her, wicking off most of the water, she found herself in his arms again.
“Cedric—” she gasped. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you to bed,” he said shortly. “I think it’s time to consummate this marriage.”
“Wait—” she tried to stop him. “I need something to tell you.”
“It can wait,” he said gruffly.
His bedchamber was oddly dim for the middle of the day, but she reasoned that he’d come home to sleep, so it would be darkened.
The fire in the hearth casts shadows over the grey-on-grey damask walls.
A pair of windows covered by voluminous velvet drapes was to the left of a large tester bed— a bed she rested on.
He placed her on the bed, and she scooted up, while he climbed on the bed. At the contact of skin against skin, the breath punched out of her lungs.
Body to body; skin to skin, heat to heat. He sank his fingers into her hair, holding her steady as he kissed her. First with tenderness and then with a ferocity that sent pulses of heat through her blood.
Leaning down, he captured her plump nipples between his lips, sucking fiercely as he kissed his way down. When he placed a hand on her delicate ankle, she quieted, her eyes growing wide.
Reverently, he caressed her satiny leg up to her pretty knees, which were pressed tightly together. “Part your legs for me.”
She frowned, “Why?”
He stroked up her skin. “Remember when you put your mouth on me? I want to do the same thing to you.”
Shyly, she did as asked, and he positioned himself between her slender limbs, touching her sleek inner thigh, feeling her quiver as he regarded the soft nest that guarded her feminine secrets.
He ran a finger along her quim. “Devil and damn, you’re wet.”
She was dripping, her dew coating his finger. She bit her lip, looking worried. “Is that, um, normal?”
“It is bloody marvelous.” He parted her with his thumbs. “You can always tell me to stop,” he murmured. “But I think you’ll like it.”
He leaned in, swiping his tongue up her middle, and she nearly launched off the bed. Her breathy moans left her mouth as he ate at her, licking his way to her peak, teasing that little jewel with the tip of his tongue. Her bucking hips told him she liked that.
Her hand sank into his hair as she chanted his name. “Do you like it? Like having my mouth on you here?”
Not a word could come from her lips as every coherent thought was shattered by blistering pleasure.
It did not take him long for her to shatter with a wild cry, insidious heat surging to her heat and spiraling through her body.
When her body fell back to the bed, with breath fighting to get into her body, Cedric kneeled on his haunches, and she felt his eyes rake over her body more than she saw them.
He rolled on top of her, kissing her damp skin, and waited for her to calm, and flinched a little when her hand touched his ruined skin. It felt impossible that she had allowed him to forget the parts of him, but she had.
“Are you ready for this, Ariadne?” He asked. “Are you ready for me?”
She opened her eyes, and the deep pools of blue held only bliss. Ariadne reached up and held his shoulder. “Yes.”
“I’ll be gentle,” he promised her.
Positioning his turgid prick against her silken mound. He rubbed against her valley, groaning as her wet lips kissed his shaft. He pushed past her feminine resistance, her wet, pulsing flesh sucked at his sensitive tip.
Holding back a curse, he tried to pace himself, and sweat beaded upon his brow as his muscles bulged with the effort to hold back. Ariadne’s mouth was partially open as she took him, and he felt her soft breath skitter over her chest.
“Ariadne—” he warned her. “Don’t tense up.”
Wanting to make her pain as fleeting as possible, he held her fast and snapped his hips, just as he covered her mouth with his, swallowing her gasp of pain.
Once again, he forced himself to stay still while he felt his heart thunder in his ears. Ariadne’s hand slipped from his shoulders to cup his face. “The pain is gone.”
Bracing one hand on the headboard and holding her hip with the other, he fit himself against her, pushing into her softness, a steady, stretching incursion that made her gasp.
“I’ll go slowly,” he dropped a kiss on her skin. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
Her fingers speared through his hair, “Don’t stop,” she urged him.
Groaned, obliging her as old, forgotten sensations whirled over his senses. He had forgotten how lovemaking felt as he slid deeper, deeper, and deeper still. Her knees found the notches of his hips as the pleasure of slick heat around him spurred him on.
She arched into his thrusts, and as their bodies moved in perfect, natural synchrony.
He couldn’t get enough of her, and when she lifted her hips to take him deeper, he knew she felt it too. His restraint destroyed, he began to pound into her, chasing the bliss he could feel just over the edge. Her breathy cries urged him on.
Leaning down, he captured her plump nipples between his lips, sucking fiercely as he rammed his way home. Her body started to flutter around, the contractions summoning his own pleasure.
In a moment, she was shattering around him, and his climax hit him with the force of a bullet. Biting back a shout, he released in luxurious bursts; his desire kept him thrusting, chasing the lingering strains of bliss.
Panting, he hung over her as her body began to calm. When his head cleared, he gently pulled away and spotted her bliss-filled eyes and pleased exhaustion.
When he lowered to the side of her, she turned on her side, reached over, and swept his damp hair from his creased brow.
“You were right,” she said tremulously. “I was not ready for that.”
He turned, “I shouldn’t have released inside you without asking if you were ready to have a child.”
Ariadne smiled softly. “I don’t mind. I’ve always known it would be my duty and pleasure to be a mother one day. “That was…that was…” She struggled to find the exact word. “… beyond my expectations.”
She was now truly his wife, a lady—his lady— in every sense of the word. The years ahead glittered with promise. She would learn even more ways of pleasing him, both within the bed chamber and outside it.
She wanted to see him laugh and enjoy life. She didn’t feel like he was one who would spend hours talking to her about his life, but she already had an inkling of how he showed his affection; he preferred to do instead of saying it. Enveloped in happiness, she drifted off to sleep.