Chapter Eighteen #2
“I’ll be adding one more finger and me mouth.” She shivered beneath him, and he whispered, “I’ll not stop until ye drench me, lass. Then I’ll be removing yer shift.”
Eyes locked on his, she whispered. “Yes, please.”
*
Pippa felt her body tighten to the point where she ached, but the coil continued to build.
Warm, firm lips licked and nibbled one thigh and then the other, while Dillon’s masterful fingers worked their magic until she felt herself experiencing the same rush of feeling as before.
When his fingers plunged deep, his mouth found her again.
His tongue tormented, while her hips thrust upward, seeking more of the bliss her husband’s mouth and hands gave her.
She felt a fullness she had not before and knew he’d added another finger. Good Lord! She couldn’t decide if the ache inside of her was from the stretching or something else.
“You’re almost there—open yer mind and yer heart. Take all that I’m giving ye.”
His words and ministrations seeped into her, and she felt the ache burst inside.
Unable to hold back, she lifted her hips off the mattress and screamed out his name.
As the ecstasy still had her in its grasp, she felt her husband peeling her chemise off her.
She reached for him, but he urged, “Not yet. I need to rid meself of these trousers.”
And then his hot skin seared into hers as he wrapped his arms around her and settled himself between her legs.
She could feel the heat of his shaft at her core and knew pain would follow, but she accepted that it would not always be so.
Needing Dillon to know that she was willing, and grateful for his taking the time to ready her for his invasion, she shifted and wrapped her legs around his waist.
He cupped her backside and slowly entered her. She felt a pinch of pain, but heard his words of encouragement. “Ye’ll stretch to accept me, lass. Know that I love ye, and think of the beautiful babes we’ll make between us.”
Heart full, body craving what it had yet to experience, she gave over to the wonder of their joining. Her reward was the tension she’d experienced before. This time she knew where it would lead her.
As he thrust into her with the rhythm he’d set earlier, with his fingers and tongue, he groaned, “Come with me, mo chroí.”
She lifted her hips to meet each thrust, reveling in the sensations coursing through her body until she could no longer hold back. Dillon thrust deep and stiffened. Instinctively, she slid her hands to his muscled backside and held on for dear life, while her inner walls tightened around him.
“Phillipa!”
Her name on his lips was accompanied by a rush of warmth inside of her as his mouth found hers and he kissed her lingeringly until his body relaxed.
The heavy weight of if set off tingles in places she had only just been introduced to.
When he shifted, she was surprised that she wasn’t ready to let him move just yet, but the warmth of him was lulling her to sleep.
The last thing she heard was the gruff sound of Dillon’s voice. “Mo ghrá. I love ye, Phillipa.”
“Mmm…I love you too.”
Callused hands stroking from her shoulder to her wrist woke her. She slowly opened her eyes and smiled.
“There ye are, lass. I was wondering when ye’d wake up.”
She blinked. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”
His deep chuckle had the more intimate parts of her waking up too. “I’m not complaining but need to take care of the parts of ye that I may have abused, though I tried me best not to.”
Pippa trailed the tips of her fingers along his jaw. “You have whiskers.”
He laughed. “Aye, they usually start making an appearance by nightfall.”
“I never noticed them before.”
“We’ve never spent this hour of the day together before—excepting when I was watching over ye after the physician took care of yer wound.”
“Why didn’t you have whiskers then?”
“I took the time to shave them off when I finished me shift so that ye wouldn’t be startled by me unshaven face.”
“Oh.”
“Now then, mo chroí, I need to wash ye—and before ye refuse, ’tis me duty as yer husband to take care of ye. That includes washing the parts I intend to spend more time worshipping.”
Pippa had never even conceived of having such an intimate conversation and had no idea what to say.
She felt the bed shift as Dillon rose and—without a stitch of clothing on—walked over to the pitcher and bowl.
After he poured water into the bowl, she watched as he dipped in a cloth and a round of soap.
She closed her eyes as he reached her side of the bed.
“Phillipa, love, do not be embarrassed. Please watch me tend to ye. Whenever ye think ye’re ready, I’ll be letting ye tend to me.”
Her eyes shot open—and so did her mouth at the sight of his large hands gently washing her.
That this giant of a man could tend to her so gently gave her hope that he would do the same for any babes they had.
In her heart, she sensed that Dillon would be a wonderful father.
She’d seen the way he treated Percy and Phineas, and little Roarke, too.
“Well now, that got ye to do as I asked. ’Tisn’t out of the ordinary for married couples to take care of one another. We’re one now, lass. And if God in His mercy grants me wish, we conceived the first of our thirteen children.”
“Thirteen?” The number astounded her. Four, mayhap five like her parents had had—but thirteen? “Why thirteen?”
He changed the subject. “I’m looking forward to bathing with ye.”
“With me?”
“Aye.”
“In a tub?”
He was trying not to smile when he asked, “Would ye rather bathe in the stream near here?”
“Good Lord, no!”
“’Tis a bit chilly at certain times of the year,” he admitted as he finished washing her, then returned the cloth to the washstand and returned with a large cloth. “Let me dry ye off. I’ll be careful, as ye’re bound to feel a bit sore.”
When he finished and returned the drying cloth to the washstand, she knew in her heart that with their earlier vows and consummating of their marriage, something magical had occurred.
Pulling the covers up to her chin, she whispered, “Where once were two, now are one.”
“Aye, Phillipa. Mayhap in a few weeks, proof of our love will start to show.”
“Weeks?”
He stared at her. “Me seed could have already taken hold, lass. Though it may take a bit of time before ye notice yer body changing.”
Embarrassed that her husband seemed to know more about the making of babes than she did, she ducked her head to her chest and shrugged. She felt the mattress dip under his weight as he sat beside her. The tip of one finger lifted her chin until their eyes met.
“I have suffered many injuries since becoming a member of the duke’s guard, but none are deeper and no battle harder fought than when a woman gives birth.
I grew up on a farm, and knew more than I wanted to about life, birth, and death by the age of five summers.
Watching the three women under me protection suffer through the early stages of pregnancy, to where they are right now, I’ve picked up more than enough information to know what to expect. ”
“You probably know more than I do.”
He shrugged. “’Tis possible. Sure and me cousins and meself observed the duchess when she was expecting the twins, before leaving Wyndmere Hall to man our assigned posts at the various estates the duke owns—and those of his distant cousins Baron Summerfield and Viscount Chattsworth.
I’ll be watching over ye more closely, lass.
Never doubt that I will take care of ye and see that ye rest when ye should, eat when ye might forget or not be wanting to. ”
“I do not believe my father ever did that,” she muttered.
“Ah, how could ye, if ye’re the youngest in yer family? Don’t discount what yer da may or may not have done.”
“He never spent too much time around me until he heard that Millie and I were spending too much time in the stables, and riding bareback across the meadows.”
“When ye were what, four and ten?”
She shook her head. “I believe I was two and ten…maybe three and ten. I honestly don’t remember.”
Dillon pulled her into his arms, apparently not concerned with his nakedness at all. She was very conscious of the play of muscles across his chest, and in his arms and shoulders whenever he moved. Tingles raced up her spine and she shivered.
“Cold?” Her face flamed, and he chuckled. “Ah, well now, I can do something about that without adding to any soreness ye may be having…if ye like.”
Intrigued, she asked, “What kind of something?”
His blue eyes glittered with desire. “Well now, let me show ye what I have in mind.”
He kissed a path from beneath her ear to her collarbone. Her breath snagged in her lungs when he licked and kissed his way to her breastbone, and took her breast into his mouth, suckling deeply.
“Is it permissible for a wife to kiss her husband in the same manner?”
He groaned. “Aye, Phillipa.” Given license to do so, she tortured him by kissing the same path he’d used on her. Nibbling, licking, and kissing.
Hours later, they had charted an intimate map of spots that tantalized and spots that tickled.
Unfortunately, she had more ticklish spots than he had.
But she now knew that scratching Dillon’s back and his head relaxed him.
Kissing and nibbling on his hip bone caused an instant reaction—one that she reaped the benefits of, and in the heat of the moment did not notice any tenderness.
As she fell asleep safe within his arms, she had a feeling she would experience discomfort tomorrow, but tonight, she felt loved. The way Dillon had slowed his pace and tempered his lovemaking made her feel wanted and treasured. Though she was inexperienced, she hoped he had felt the same.
Pippa could not wait until tomorrow to begin their new life together.