Twelfth Night Betrothal

Chapter 12

“Congratulations, my Lady Wexford. Although… You’ve come down in the world, methinks. A mere viscountess now. Fie, I don’t know if I want to know you anymore!”

“Will!” She giggled. “You’re impossible!”

“I know. But I have only your happiness at heart.” He placed a hand over his chest and bowed as he would to royalty. “Did you enjoy your Christmas present, by the way? I hope Wicked Wexford can deliver?”

Heather blushed when he arched a suggestive eyebrow, indicating that the word “wicked” had acquired a new meaning in his mind. Oh, yes, the viscount who’d married her earlier that afternoon was wicked, and he certainly could deliver. “Yes, thank you. But really, did you have to meddle?”

“You’re very welcome. And from now on I promise I will not meddle in your private affairs. I see you’re in good hands now.”

Good hands indeed… And mouth. Her husband was a skilled lover, and she couldn’t wait to discover the rest of his talents. Heat spread all the way to her toes at the thought. Will wiggled his brow but, true to his word, he didn’t say anything.

“Who would have thought the man in whose arms you threw me would be the one I was trying to escape?” Heather’s lips curled into smile. What an odd twist of fate! “Of course, you know what this means, don’t you?”

Her friend frowned. “No.”

“Flynn and I would have met eventually, and fallen in love just as fast as we did. There was no need to put yourself out.”

Will stole a glance toward the corner of the room, where Flynn was laughing with Alistair. “Oh, there was every need. I thoroughly enjoyed my time as Lord of Misrule. And you are not the only one to have found the man you were waiting for.”

“Oh!” Heather threw herself in his arms. “I’m so happy for you!” Finally her friend had found someone who made him happy.

“Thank you. I’m so happy for me too.” He gave her a playful tap on the buttocks. “Now, go, my lady! You have a wedding night to go to.”

****

“Let me undress you.”

Flynn made her sit on the bed and knelt at her feet. Heather’s breath caught in anticipation. After a day that had seemed interminable, they had finally retired to their bedchamber and were about to make love. She could hardly believe she was in Viscount Wexford’s bed, married to him, and loving every moment of it. She had dreaded the moment for weeks, yet now she could not imagine a place she would rather be or a man she would want more.

Slowly, her husband unlaced her boots while she admired the way his fingers worked. So agile, so skilled… Those long, elegant fingers had done all sorts of things to her, and would not stop there. Starting from tonight, they would skim every inch of her body and give her pleasure beyond her wildest imaginings.

“I want you naked too,” she warned when he started to unlace her bodice. It was high time she saw the marvel her husband was.

A low growl reached her ear. “Oh, worry not, you will have me naked, wife, whether you want it or not.”

In the blink of an eye he had discarded his tunic. She’d smiled when she’d seen him appear in the velvet garment that morning. Just as she’d suspected, he did look as dashing in brown as he did in other colors. But when he discarded the rest of his clothes, Heather understood that he looked best of all in nothing but his golden skin.

Her mouth started to water. This would be a wedding night worthy of the name.

Flynn was wild with need.

Finally, he was going to make love to the woman who had fired his blood for two weeks. Naked, he sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to his equally naked wife. In that position, her breasts, crowned with perfect, tight nipples, were just at the right height for him to lick. He did not even try to resist, did not think of teasing her first. They had all night for that. He brought her to his waiting mouth and suckled her until she could barely stand. When she whimpered, he could stand it no longer.

He needed to be inside her.

“Come here, sweeting.”

With a wolfish smile he lifted her onto his lap, making sure to settle her above the hardness jutting between his thighs. He was quite certain she had never been put in that position of dominance by her bastard husband, and tonight he didn’t want anything to remind her of what she had gone through in his bed.

Nothing would spoil this moment.

“Is there something you want, perchance, husband?” Heather ground her hips and Flynn clenched his teeth. Did she have any idea of how desperate for release he was? Feeling her so hot and ready at the tip of his shaft was sending him mad. He had to take her before she unmanned him.

“Yes,” he managed to say through gritted teeth.

“You had better make sure you come and take it, then.”

“No. I would never take anything. Everything I get from you, you are going to give to me freely.”

She sighed. “Yes…I suspect I will.”

“Lower yourself onto me when you’re ready. Tonight you’re going to take your husband, Lady Wexford.”

“Can we do that?” She looked both dubious and very aroused by the prospect.

Oh, she didn’t know the half of it. How he would enjoy teaching her all he knew—and discovering new pleasures with her.

“We can do whatever we like. You told me once you wanted to be a man, remember? Well, here is your chance. It should prove even more pleasurable, for both of us, than leading me through my dancing steps.”

Thank the Lord his wife was not the kind of woman to eschew a challenge. No sooner had he stopped talking than she lifted herself and positioned him at her entrance. A gasp escaped her lips when she felt him poised against her folds.

“This is nothing like when the earl tried to take me. You’re so…hard,” she whispered, surprise and awe in her voice.

“Yes. This is what happens to men when they want the woman in their arms.” The bastard who’d married her for appearances’ sake might not have desired her, but Flynn certainly did. He had never been so hard. “And I am as desperate for you as you are desperate for me.”

“How do you know I’m desperate?”

He groaned and gave her taut nipple a lick, as if to say that their hardness was proof of her desire for him. “You’re so hot against me, so swollen, so wet, so—”

It was more than Heather could bear. She sighed and bore down, taking him in. At first when he’d disrobed she had been worried by the size of him, but to her utter shock he slid in all the way to the root and there was no pain, no discomfort. Big as he was, he did fit.

“Oh,” she said in a long exhale. This was perfect. This was where she wanted to be. One with this man.

“My love, will you please…move? Your softness is killing me.” Flynn’s voice was gruff with need. She realized only then that she was staring at the ceiling, adjusting to the incredible sensation of being filled by the man she loved.

She started to move, her gaze fastened onto her husband. “Like this?”

“Yes,” he all but shouted before taking a nipple between his lips. “I promise to take my time with you afterward, but for now, forgive me, I just need to come.”

Stars burst behind Heather’s eyelids when he sucked her nipple deeper into his mouth and growled. The pull on her breast was answered by a tightening between her legs. Heat started to build in her lower back. When he tightened his grip on her waist, the gesture possessive, she shattered around him. It was different from the day before, but just as glorious.

Once the storm had quietened, she was too weak to remain upright. With a groan Flynn rolled her under him onto the bed and found his own release, pumping between her legs like a man demented. The growl he gave when he erupted sent her heart beating wildly.

This was what marriage should be like.

“I love you,” she croaked. “Now and forever.”