Chapter Fifteen
What a question!
Bear gazed into the eyes of his betrothed and felt the hard walls he’d long ago erected around his heart beginning to crumble.
“The very sight of you warms my soul while your smile banishes any discomfort,” he murmured, tracing the ball of his thumb over her pink lips. “If I kiss you properly, Marianne, I may burst into flames.”
Laughter burst from her. “That is a most daring risk.”
“Indeed.” Oblivious to the coldness of the stone floor, he balanced on his knees and pulled her closer.
“But you are a man of courage. A soldier.” Her breath was sweet and warm, her body soft and slender against his. “I already know this of you; you do not run from risk.”
“Not when the risk is worth the reward.”
He could wait no longer. He tipped her face toward him and claimed those perfect lips, audibly groaning with pleasure when she responded with equal eagerness.
Desire coursed through him, banishing his usual caution and reserve.
The coarse blanket fell from Marianne’s shoulders, and it was all the invitation he needed to crush her closer and deepen their kiss.
When his tongue touched hers, a visceral jolt of heat shot all the way through his core.
His hands ran down her spine, then traveled up again and wonderfully over her ribs to cup her breasts.
The shape of her molded to his palms, as if the two were made to become one.
It was the most natural thing in the world to slide his fingers beneath the pearl buttons at the back of her dress until the garment sagged open and he could touch and see her creamy flesh.
Marianne made a small sound in the back of her throat. With his lips dancing across her shoulder, Bear paused.
“I shall stop, just say the word.”
“No.” She entwined her fingers in his hair. “I want you to carry on.”
He trailed kisses along her collarbone, his desire growing harder and more urgent with every moment.
When his lips met the soft mound of her breast, he slowed his pace so that Marianne was moaning with anticipation by the time his mouth fastened over her pert pink nub.
He placed one arm around her waist so she might brace against him as he feasted on one and then the other, encouraged by her gasps of pleasure.
But when her small hands ran over his chest and tracked a journey down, he pulled away.
Myriad thoughts chased through his mind, not least, what would she think of his unsightly scars?
“We should not go further,” he managed.
“No?” She raised an eyebrow coyly. “Why should we not?”
Her deft fingers had found his falls and Bear felt the last vestiges of his self-control begin to slip away.
“Because we are not yet man and wife.”
Ignoring his own words, he dipped his head once more, seizing her small, round breast and relishing her answering moan of pleasure.
“A mere formality. After all, neither of us dare defy a decree from the Lyon’s Den.” Marianne’s voice was breathless, but her logic was sound.
“Do not tempt me, sweet Marianne.” He pressed his lips to the narrow gap between her breasts. “You are too beautiful, too perfect, and I am but a man of flesh and blood.”
And scars.
“Ah, but a man of flesh and blood is exactly what I want.”
He was undone, in every sense. Marianne slipped her hand inside his falls and as her fingers closed around him, Bear knew a swell of desire that was impossible to deny. He groaned aloud, resting his forehead against her chest as the most glorious sensations rippled through him.
“Not here,” he choked. “Not with you on a rickety stool.”
She stood up gracefully, her dress pooling around her waist so he had no choice but to reach from her high breasts once more, stroking and caressing until she leaned against him, head back, gloriously uninhibited.
“I would make love to you in a four-poster bed with silken sheets and a fire flickering in the grate,” he whispered. “Our first time together should be perfect.”
Marianne opened her eyes and gazed into his, as if she could see right into his soul. “It will be perfect, I promise.”
He scooped her up and held her against him. “The best I can offer you tonight is a hayloft.”
She smiled, luminous in the light from the brazier. “The best you can offer me is you. And that is all I shall ever want.”
She was light as a feather and his steps were sure as he climbed the wooden steps to the sweet-smelling loft where he laid her reverently on the soft hay. Pale light filtered in through a window and rain fell gently onto the roof above them.
“It has been some time since I loved a woman,” he said gruffly.
She cupped his face. “This act has never been one of love, not for me,” she answered, simply. “But I know that with you, everything will be different.”
“I would show you the stars, Marianne.” His hand trailed beneath her heavy skirts, caressing the silkiness of her inner thighs. “I would take you higher than the heavens.”
“Yes.” She arched her back, inviting him onward. “Show me.”
He reached her curls and slipped inside, the throbbing of his desire growing stronger as he found her ready for him.
He stroked gently, watching her face for signs of pleasure and responding to her cues.
When her hips bucked against him, he fastened his lips to her breast and held her close until she exhaled deeply and sank down into the hay.
Benedict raised his head, his smile fading as he discerned the gleam of tears in her eyes.
“What is wrong? Did I hurt you?” He was alarmed.
Marianne slowly shook her head. “It was the most wonderful thing I have ever known. I never knew it could be like that.”
He kissed her forehead, tasting the salt of their exertions. “It will always be like that between us.”
“But we are only just starting, are we not?” Her hands went to his hips.
He chuckled, low and deep. “You are a hard taskmaster, Marianne.”
“Do you not want to continue?”
He heard the catch in her voice and rose up onto his elbows so she might see the sincerity in his expression. “More than anything, I do.”
“You are worried that I will not think you a gentleman?”
“I am worried that I shall not think myself a gentleman.”
“But a man should do as his betrothed requests, should he not?”
His breath hitched in his throat. “Most certainly.”
“And I request that you love me, Benedict. Properly. Fully. As a man loves a woman.”
“Then I would see you, all of you,” he whispered, drawing her up to a sitting position so he could unbutton the rest of her dress.
“As I would see all of you.” Her eyes shone in the half-light as she lifted her hips so he could pull her gown away. Her petticoat was slight and sheer, easily divested with one gentle pull over her shoulders.
Bear’s fingers trembled as he peeled off his breeches and drawers. This was the moment he had long feared, when she would see his scars for the first time.
Marianne reached up to unfasten his shirt, and he shrugged it off as soon as the last button came free.
“Do they repulse you?” he asked, his voice tight.
Marianne traced warm fingers along the knotted purple line of his longest scar. “They speak of your courage,” she whispered.
He saw acceptance in her clear blue eyes and the last of his anxieties melted away. He sighed with a warm mixture of desire and contentment as he laid down beside her and took her into his arms.
“You are mine.” He might never cease to marvel at it.
“Wholly.” She ran her hands over the muscles of his chest, making his flesh tingle.
“I love you, Marianne.”
“And I love you.”
There was nothing left to say. Benedict gave himself over to instinct and sensation, first paying homage to her wondrous breasts with his tongue, then traveling slowly down over the gentle curve of her belly, trailing butterfly kisses lower and lower until he met his mark.
Marianne gasped with surprise, drawing her knees toward her and granting him access to the place he most wanted to be.
He kissed her slowly, reverently, waiting until her breathing grew heavy and languorous before slipping his tongue inside her velvet folds.
Her back arched and he increased the pressure of his kiss, holding her hips with both hands and feeling the vibrations ripple through her.
When she moaned, low and deep, he pulled briefly away, settled himself between her legs and sank inside her.
This was where he belonged!
Marianne’s moan turned into a gasp which he echoed as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Lost to rational thought, he nudged deeper into her warmth, his pleasure mounting as her hips rose to meet him. They bucked together, their cries mingling as their bodies writhed in perfect synchronicity.
“Marianne,” he whispered, reaching for her hand.
Their fingers entwined at the moment of their climax.
Bear buried himself deeper into her, helpless to resist the primeval urge as he emptied himself with a growl.
Marianne’s fingernails dug into his shoulders before she exhaled and relaxed back into the hay.
For a few seconds, he allowed himself to lay where he was, breathing in the scent of the woman he loved.
But then, conscious of his weight, he shifted onto his side and pulled her close.
“Was that what you had in mind, milady?” He held a blade of straw in his fingers and ran it lightly over her nose.
She smiled up at him. “It was exactly what I had in mind. Or rather, it was even better.”
Happiness squeezed his chest. “Did I show you the stars?”
“All of them. Bright and shining. Just for me.”
“Just as I wished.”
She snuggled closer. “What do we do now?”
Bear tuned back into their surroundings, to the barn and the patter of rain on the roof.
“There’s nothing we can do until the morn.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “We should stay right where we are.”
Marianne smiled sleepily up at him. “That was exactly what I hoped you would say.”