Page 11 of Swept Away

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Eden had never expected to marry that day, but fortunately her mother had long ago provided her with all the information any bride would need. She knew exactly what would happen, but she also knew there was far more to making love than the act that would make her Alex’s wife. It was instantly plain from his adoring kiss and tender caress that he knew it too. He was no ardent boy intent upon sating his own lusts with her body. He was a lover of extraordinary insight and skill and she loved him all the more for it.

When a few minutes later Eden found herself lying nude across his bed, she could not recall precisely how he had managed to remove all her apparel without her assistance, but she thought him extremely clever for doing so. When he reached toward the lamp at the bedside, she objected. It was already turned down low, and she thought the soft light provided precisely the romantic glow a wedding night required. “Leave the lamp as it is,” she requested in a seductive whisper.

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p; Alex considered Eden’s beauty of the most exquisite sort, and had no objection to feasting his eyes upon her all night, but he had thought she would prefer to have the room dark. “You are not embarrassed?”

His bed had already been turned down in preparation for the night, and Eden raised the corner of the sheet to demurely cover her breasts. “I didn’t realize I should be.”

“I didn’t mean of your own body, but of seeing mine.”

Eden took a deep breath before assuring him that was not the case. “You’re a very handsome man, Alex, lean and fit. Why wouldn’t I find you attractive?”

Alex had already slipped off his coat and waistcoat and sat down on the side of the bed as he began to unbutton his shirt. “Men’s bodies are very different from women’s. I know some brides find that discovery frightening.”

“I’ve seen nude men. The sight doesn’t disgust me.”

Alex’s mouth fell agape, for it had never occurred to him she might not be a virgin. Not that it mattered to him when he loved her so dearly, but it was a shock just the same. Unable to think of any way to reply to such a startling confession, he concentrated on unbuttoning his shirt, but fumbled so badly with the buttons he made very slow progress.

“Alex?” When he failed to immediately look up, Eden began to giggle. “I’m not in the habit of cavorting with nude men. Is that the way that sounded? I worked tending the wounded before my parents sent me here to London. That was the primary reason they insisted I leave Richmond. They felt I had seen too much bloodshed for one so young. The boys who were dying were no older, though, so I thought their decision was very unfair. Had I been their son, they would have let me fight, but they didn’t want their daughter touched by the horror of the War.”

Alex was ashamed for doubting her virtue for even a moment but thought better of admitting that aloud. “That’s ironic, isn’t it? That your parents sent you away to escape the horror of death when all they succeeded in doing was—”

Eden stilled his words with her fingertips. “No, not another word about death tonight. Tomorrow in the sunshine, on the way to Briarcliff, we can talk about it as long as you like, but no more tonight.”

Alex took her hand and placed a kiss on her palm. “You are a priceless treasure, Eden, truly you are.” Readily agreeing to her suggestion, he left the bed to search among the bottles of cologne atop his chest of drawers. When he returned, he was holding a lavender bottle made of delicate hand-blown glass. It was fashioned in the oval shape of a newly opened rosebud and its stopper was topped by a hummingbird that had paused in flight to savor the flower’s nectar.

Eden could not recall ever seeing anything quite so exquisitely beautiful. “Is that perfume?” She had brought along her favorite scent, but thought perhaps the lovely bottle contained a fragrance he preferred.

“This has a pleasant scent, but it’s not perfume,” Alex explained, but he could think of no way to describe the exotic liquid’s true value. Setting the stopper by the lamp, he shook the bottle, and capturing a few drops on his fingertips, he spread them on Eden’s lips. “Do you like the taste?”

Eden ran her tongue over her lips, then smiled at their sweetness. “It’s more delicate than honey, or maple syrup, but it’s very good. What is it?”

“Merely an oil to use for massage.” This time Alex pulled away the sheet so he could spread a thin coat of the pale liquid on the tip of Eden’s right breast. When he leaned down to lick it off, she ran her fingers through his hair to press his face close.

“Is that how to give a massage?”

Alex’s answering chuckle was low in his throat. “It’s how I like to do it.” He sat back then, quite pleased with the way the evening was progressing. He could recall his first wedding night vividly. Eleanora had been so shy he had had to ply her with brandy for half the night before she had gotten in a sufficiently loving mood to allow him to consummate their marriage. In time she had become an affectionate wife who always pleased him, but she had never been as delightfully wanton as Eden already appeared to be.

Eden’s lips began to tingle slightly and she licked them again. She watched Alex rub the sweet-tasting oil on his own nipples and understood what he wanted her to do when he placed his hand on her shoulder to draw her near. The coarse curls which covered his chest were still as dark as his hair had once been. They tickled as she pressed her mouth to his flesh. His skin was warm, and she began to feel a delicious heat filling her own body as well.

Alex shed the last of his clothing, then continued to play a teasing game with the scented oil. While its full effect wasn’t noticeable for several minutes, Eden soon learned it left a trail of fire wherever it touched her skin. It was merely a drop or two at first, on her earlobes, at the base of her throat, again on the flushed tips of her breasts, and each time he kissed the slippery substance away, she would repay the favor in kind.

She soon felt so dizzy she was sorry she had not allowed Alex to extinguish the lamp, for the room’s furnishings seemed to be spinning around the bed at a most alarming rate. She had sipped her wine slowly all through supper and knew she had not been inebriated when they had walked up the stairs, but she could not understand what had happened to her now. She had never felt so light-headed, and yet at the same time her senses had grown painfully acute.

She closed her eyes, hoping to shut out the distracting visual images that surrounded her but found that self-imposed darkness only increased her dismay. She now felt as though she were falling, slowly sinking into the most delicious sensation she had ever experienced. Alex’s touch was soft and sure as he parted her thighs, and before she could tell him not to spread the oil’s tormenting heat in so intimate a place, he had already done so. It did not burn her delicate flesh, but the effect of the fiery potion was immediate. It created a craving for release that overwhelmed the last of her reason. She called out to him, but all that escaped her lips was a breathless plea for a fulfillment of the night’s spiraling journey into pleasure’s core.

She tried to open her eyes, even though she feared Alex would be no more than a blur, but she could not manage even so simple a feat. Remarkably, in her mind’s eye she could see them both sprawled across the bed, the neatly ironed bedclothes now tangled beneath their oil-slickened bodies. She had never had the opportunity to observe a couple making love, and while she knew she could not possibly be watching herself and Alex, that was who she saw.

She watched the fascinating scene unfolding in her mind and at the same time she could feel Alex’s fingers slide inside her, preparing a slippery path. He had already awakened the most primitive of human needs and she clutched his shoulders, urging him to finish what he had begun. She saw him shift his weight, and watched the muscles ripple across his back as he positioned himself above her. When he hesitated a moment, she noticed they were a striking pair, for he was dark while her usually creamy skin was flushed with a rosy glow that extended from her cheeks to the tips of her toes.

In the next instant she felt the blunt tip of his manhood brush against her, but he retained the same languid rhythm that had marked his gestures all evening. After his first shallow probings, he began to plunge deeper with each new thrust, but with deliberate care he withdrew each time he felt her grow tense. As relentless as the rising tide, with every new approach he filled her more completely until finally he lay fully contained within the warm channel that he had taken such care to prepare. That her body had accommodated his so easily convinced Eden she had been born to be his mate. That it had been Alex’s clever use of the exotic oil that had permitted them to join so easily did not occur to her.

Eden slipped her arms around Alex’s waist as she returned his deep kisses. He seemed content, but she knew there had to be more to making love, and impatient to discover it, she rolled her hips against his, silently demanding that he continue and show her all there was to see and feel. This time he abandoned his cautious pace, and lost himself in the wonder of her eager acceptance. She felt the rapture she had craved swell within her, and poised on the edge of paradise, she lunged for it. Her graceful writhing drove Alex to increase the speed of his deep thrusts until the blinding moment of ecstasy overtook him with a convulsive shudder that echoed hers in endless ripples of joy.

A long while passed before Eden became aware of Alex’s weight, but she found it very pleasant to be pinned beneath him still. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her throat and cuddled close. She ruffled his soft silver hair and decided her mother had been right: there was nothing more glorious than being with the man you loved.

As they left for Briarcliff the next day, Alex sent his cook’s son to deliver a message to Raven. It took the poor lad a long while to locate the dock where the Jamaican Wind was moored, and then he had to wait for more than an hour for the captain to return from an errand.


Tags: Phoebe Conn Historical