Chapter 25
Kalina
It was her wedding night, and she was still a virgin. A virgin who could not fall asleep.
Kalina turned over, trying to get more comfortable in the bed. The mattress was comfortable enough, despite its age. The sheets were soft, worn from use. But she could not get comfortable.
For a moment, she’d thought Nathanial would kiss her, and all would be well… but he’d practically run from her. Shut himself away inside his own room. So close but so far away.
She’d thought about knocking on the door between their rooms, but decided against it. It had already been embarrassing enough ringing for Margaret to help her get ready for bed. Though her maid had been cheerful getting her ready for bed, as if she expected that Hereford would be in after she left.
But he had not come. Eventually, Kalina had blown out her candles and lay down.
The last thing she wanted to do was force him to spend time with her when it was clear he did not. Hopefully, tomorrow…
Part of her desire was pure curiosity, but another part was that he made her feel things.
She wanted to explore that. And if he had come into the room with her, she might have felt like they’d traveled along the road toward forgiveness.
Her mother had said that being in the bedroom together was the most intimate thing a couple could do.
She’d hoped…
But no.
Perhaps there was no way to make up for the way her father had tricked him.
Turning onto her side, Kalina buried her face in the pillow, letting the soft cushion soak up her tears.
Closing her eyes, she took long, deep breaths.
In. And out. Felt her heart slow to a calmer pace.
The tension in her body began to leak out of her.
Relaxing her. She focused her mind on her new sisters.
Julianna and Emma were both more reserved with her, but Fiona had been nothing but warm and welcoming.
A soothing balm to her battered emotions.
She could make a place for herself here.
Tomorrow, she would be happy to take them shopping.
Visit the village. And explore her new home.
Surely, Fiona, at least, would be willing to show her around the many rooms. Miss Milford would likely help, too.
Margaret had said the older woman was very welcoming and happy that the new duchess had brought her own lady’s maid.
Peace slowly settled over her, and she was just beginning to drift off when she heard a noise. At first, she dismissed it. Houses creaked, after all. Or perhaps she’d already fallen asleep and was dreaming. She was right on the cusp.
But then she heard the sound of fabric shushing against itself, coming closer to her.
Her heart began to race again, and she turned over.
A large, solid shape was approaching her bed, the outline of shoulders and head shadowed but visible as her eyes peered through the darkness.
“Your Grace?” she whispered, because she did not feel comfortable calling him by his first name. Not after everything.
And he had never given her permission to.
“Hush,” he murmured, though the one word was enough that she recognized his voice. His shoulders moved, and some of the silhouette slid away, revealing a leaner shadow.
He must have been wearing a dressing gown, she realized, as he began to crawl onto the bed. She felt the dip in the bed, felt trepidation and hope rise inside her. As much as she wanted to say something, she could not think of what… and besides, he’d told her to hush.
There was something freeing about the silence. If she could not say anything, then she could not say anything wrong. If they did not speak, then they could not accuse or insult, either.
Hereford tugged the sheets down away from her. Uncertain of what to do, Kalina found herself utterly breathless.
Though he’d technically been in her bed before, she had not been aware of it for the majority of the time. Having him come into it now… Her heart was racing inside her chest, and her skin felt exquisitely sensitive as the heat of his body came alongside hers.
Not on top of her exactly, but hovering over her. One knee moved between her legs, and she felt her nightrail shift as her knees parted, lifting to admit him.
His head lowered, and for a moment she thought he might kiss her, but instead his lips landed on her throat rather than her mouth. The sensation of him touching her sensitive skin there made her gasp. Especially when her hands lifted to touch him and found nothing but bare skin.
The only fabric between them was her nightgown.
Heat suffused her, sudden arousal pooling in her core as a hot need filled her.
What she needed she had only the barest idea of, though she understood what was supposed to happen.
He would need to put his male part inside her, and then move until he reached completion, spending his seed in her body to plant and grow a child.
Her mother had said it could be very pleasurable, though she had not explained exactly how.
Nor had she warned Kalina about the way her skin would feel tighter, her nipples budding and becoming more sensitive as the soft fabric of her night rail moved against them, or how her insides would clench and send little ripples of pleasure through her.
Her mother could not have possibly described what it felt like to have a man’s lips traveling over her throat, his hands pulling her night rail up and sliding his palms up her sides, igniting her senses.
“Oh!” She could not suppress the soft gasps, the little moans, as Hereford touched her in a manner that was utterly indecent and wildly exciting. Her body moved, hips lifting up, reaching for… something.
Hands cupped her breasts, and she gasped again, shuddering as the sensations went through her.
Her nipples ached, and she whimpered into the darkness, clutching at Hereford’s bare shoulders, shifting underneath him.
There was a needy pulse between her legs, a growing ache that begged for more, even though she did not know what she wanted more of.
“Please,” she begged.
“Hush.”
The word was quiet but firm.
One of his hands lifted, covering her mouth as his head lowered to her breasts.
Kalina cried out against his fingers as his mouth closed around her nipple, the wet heat sending a shot of pure pleasure from the little bud straight to her womanhood.
He sucked, hard, and the throbbing ache inside her responded, but her moans were muffled against his hand.
His other hand kneaded the opposite breast, fingers plucking that nipple, teasing and tugging, while his tongue laved over its twin.
She writhed, fingers digging into his shoulders as he used his mouth and hand to stoke the fires of her desire. In this arena, she was a complete novice, and he was the master of her senses.
Lifting his head, he released her breast, grasping her wrists instead and pushing them up above her head. He did not speak, just wrapped her fingers around the spindles of the headboard, holding them in place. When he let go of her hands, she kept them there.
The feeling of vulnerability as she lay stretched out beneath him, her night rail pushed up above her breasts, one nipple wet and throbbing, the other tight and aching, only increased her ardor.
Yet, following his unspoken command, letting him take the lead and submitting to his direction, aroused her even more.
As much as she wanted to touch him, just as the silence was freeing, so was the inability to move.
She could not say anything wrong, nor could she do anything wrong. Everything was up to what he wanted.
Bending over her again, he took her other nipple in his mouth, and Kalina moaned.
She did not speak or beg again, but whimpered and gasped and cried out as much as she needed under the sensual assault.
Curving his fingers over her other breast, his free hand slid down along her side, over her hip, then between her legs where he was kneeling.
The feel of his fingers touching between her legs, sliding through the wet petals of her womanhood, nearly made her levitate. The wooden spindles she was holding creaked as she tightened her grip, her hips lifting.
She was slick, hot, and could feel his fingers exploring her. Stroking her. Caressing her.
One of them found her opening and pushed inside her, and the strange sensation of something invading her body made her cry out in surprised pleasure. No wonder her mother had said this was the most intimate thing a man and wife could experience together.
Kalina felt utterly undone as his finger moved, going deeper, retreating for a moment, then questing forward again. The heel of his hand pressed against the curls over her mound, rubbing gently, and sending an utter shock of pleasure through her. Her toes curled as her head thrashed back and forth.
The urge to beg was growing, but she knew he did not want her to speak.
Part of her almost did, just to feel his hand over her mouth again.
But she wanted to show him that she could follow his direction. That she could give him whatever he needed, whatever he desired. She could make up for how he’d ended up married to her.
At least, she could try.
Another long finger slid inside her, and she moaned, shuddering as she gripped the spindles harder, pulling on them as the sensations made her entire body want to curl from head to toe.
It was such a strange sensation, yet entirely pleasurable, even as she felt the stretch and the invasion.
She’d felt similar stirrings before, but they had never come to this point, never grown in this manner.
The pressure on her mound increased, his fingers stroking inside her as he suckled her nipple. The intense pleasure grew, coiling inside her tighter and tighter until she could not bear it anymore.