thee!"
He raised an eyebrow. "What thou doth wish is of no consequence. Now, get undressed and climb into bed, afore I lose my temper."
Her eyes widened at his tone, and she turned her back. He stared transfixed, as she slowly untied her bodice and slipped the top and skirt from her lithe body. The curve of her back lit up by the flickering torch enticed him–the silky smooth skin of her reddened buttocks begging to be caressed. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but then he remembered why she was here. She had wronged him. For that, she would suffer. He wouldst not let her see his reaction to her naked form. Instead, he turned his back and finished disrobing himself. He heard the creak of the bed and, when he turned, she was already beneath the covers, her back to him.
Before he climbed into bed, he doused the torch.
* * *
Arabella felt the bed dip as John joined her. She tensed when his huge arm slipped around her waist and his body molded to hers. Through her thin nightgown, she could feel he was naked. Oh, Lord. Was he going to claim his marital rights? She tried to wriggle away. "Nay, Arabella, thou will stay put. I will ask naught of thee this night, I merely wish to keep thee by my side."
Arabella gulped. His body was hard and battle honed, and it felt huge against her small frame. His arm alone was the size of one of her thighs. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but his touch stirred her senses. She was married, yet still a maiden. What would it feel like to become a woman? His woman? She moved her bottom back an inch to feel contact with his thighs and was surprised to find a hard wedge between them. Surely that wasn't his manhood? She pushed against it inquisitively and was rewarded with a deep groan.
"God's bones, Arabella, willst thou keep still?"
She nibbled her bottom lip and stared into the darkness. Was he aroused by her? She knew not for certain, but apparently, a man's appendage grew hard when aroused, and he was definitely hard. Mayhap he was not as immune to her as he was making out. Part of her wanted to consummate their marriage out of curiosity, but she also wanted her first time to be with a man she loved and who loved her back in return. John did not love her. Aye, he may find her body attractive, but he had made it blatantly clear that he despised her.
Closing her eyes, she slowly drifted into a troubled sleep.
* * *
Arabella awoke the next morning and went to stretch her limbs, only to immediately freeze, when she felt John still beside her. She stayed stock still and listened to his breathing. It was steady and even. Cautiously, mindful of her sore bottom from last night's spanking, she turned over and stared at him. He was lying on his back, one arm flung over his forehead, the other on top of his chest. The coverlet was pushed down to his waist. Her eyes wandered over him. In slumber, his face had softened, and he looked less ferocious than he did when awake. Her gaze travelled from his face down to his thickly muscled neck and broad shoulders. She had admired him when he was a youth, but now he was a man: thicker set and mature. Altogether more alluring if that was possible. She should hate him for the way he disciplined her, but somehow, she found herself admiring his dominance. It showed strength that perhaps she needed in a man; otherwise, she would ride rough shod over him.
Her eyes flicked back up, and she caught her breath. He was staring at her. She flushed guiltily and quickly leaned back against her pillow, wincing when her backside touched the sheets again. "Good morning, milord."
He shifted upwards and leaned over her. His eyes had taken on a deeper hue. She stared at them in fascination. "Good morrow, wife," he said, his eyes fastening on her lips. Unconsciously, her small tongue darted out and moistened them. His gaze met hers, and instinctively, she knew that today she would lose her virginity. He looked as though he was about to devour her. She realised,
He raised an eyebrow. "What thou doth wish is of no consequence. Now, get undressed and climb into bed, afore I lose my temper."
Her eyes widened at his tone, and she turned her back. He stared transfixed, as she slowly untied her bodice and slipped the top and skirt from her lithe body. The curve of her back lit up by the flickering torch enticed him–the silky smooth skin of her reddened buttocks begging to be caressed. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but then he remembered why she was here. She had wronged him. For that, she would suffer. He wouldst not let her see his reaction to her naked form. Instead, he turned his back and finished disrobing himself. He heard the creak of the bed and, when he turned, she was already beneath the covers, her back to him.
Before he climbed into bed, he doused the torch.
* * *
Arabella felt the bed dip as John joined her. She tensed when his huge arm slipped around her waist and his body molded to hers. Through her thin nightgown, she could feel he was naked. Oh, Lord. Was he going to claim his marital rights? She tried to wriggle away. "Nay, Arabella, thou will stay put. I will ask naught of thee this night, I merely wish to keep thee by my side."
Arabella gulped. His body was hard and battle honed, and it felt huge against her small frame. His arm alone was the size of one of her thighs. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but his touch stirred her senses. She was married, yet still a maiden. What would it feel like to become a woman? His woman? She moved her bottom back an inch to feel contact with his thighs and was surprised to find a hard wedge between them. Surely that wasn't his manhood? She pushed against it inquisitively and was rewarded with a deep groan.
"God's bones, Arabella, willst thou keep still?"
She nibbled her bottom lip and stared into the darkness. Was he aroused by her? She knew not for certain, but apparently, a man's appendage grew hard when aroused, and he was definitely hard. Mayhap he was not as immune to her as he was making out. Part of her wanted to consummate their marriage out of curiosity, but she also wanted her first time to be with a man she loved and who loved her back in return. John did not love her. Aye, he may find her body attractive, but he had made it blatantly clear that he despised her.
Closing her eyes, she slowly drifted into a troubled sleep.
* * *
Arabella awoke the next morning and went to stretch her limbs, only to immediately freeze, when she felt John still beside her. She stayed stock still and listened to his breathing. It was steady and even. Cautiously, mindful of her sore bottom from last night's spanking, she turned over and stared at him. He was lying on his back, one arm flung over his forehead, the other on top of his chest. The coverlet was pushed down to his waist. Her eyes wandered over him. In slumber, his face had softened, and he looked less ferocious than he did when awake. Her gaze travelled from his face down to his thickly muscled neck and broad shoulders. She had admired him when he was a youth, but now he was a man: thicker set and mature. Altogether more alluring if that was possible. She should hate him for the way he disciplined her, but somehow, she found herself admiring his dominance. It showed strength that perhaps she needed in a man; otherwise, she would ride rough shod over him.
Her eyes flicked back up, and she caught her breath. He was staring at her. She flushed guiltily and quickly leaned back against her pillow, wincing when her backside touched the sheets again. "Good morning, milord."
He shifted upwards and leaned over her. His eyes had taken on a deeper hue. She stared at them in fascination. "Good morrow, wife," he said, his eyes fastening on her lips. Unconsciously, her small tongue darted out and moistened them. His gaze met hers, and instinctively, she knew that today she would lose her virginity. He looked as though he was about to devour her. She realised,
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