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She was laughing with him when she’d managed to loosely tie his wrists to the headboard.

“There, you’re now at my mercy, North Nightingale.”

“Yes,” he said, looking up at her thoughtfully. “You sound quite pleased with yourself.”

“What is it? You’re regretting giving me control?”

“No, actually I was thinking I should write my own book for grooms. Reassure them that if, on the second night, their brides want to tie them up, why then, it is just fine and they shouldn’t be worried that she’s gone over the garden wall or will begin trying to play Bach’s French Suites in her bathtub. They should allow their lady anything she wishes.”

“I like the sound of that.” She climbed off the bed, lit several more candles, and began to undress, her eyes bright with excitement, teasing him now, and knowing exactly what she was doing and the effect it would have. By the time her chemise was pooled at her feet, he was so far gone he was panting.

“Caroline,” he said. He started to yank his wrists free, then stopped himself. He realized he was quite enjoying himself. He was hard as the Carrara marble on the fireplace, his heart pounding so fast he couldn’t stop his panting. He never imagined that a wife could be so very enthusiastic about matters of the marital bed, so filled with curiosity and eager to please him until he couldn’t bear it.

“My hair,” she said, and stood there, knowing she was making him mad with lust, just standing there, taking the pins out of her hair, combing her hands through her hair. Then she raised her arms, tossed her head, and said, “Now I am ready to give you attention, my lord.”

He fell back on the pillow and closed his eyes. His entire body was pounding. He knew she was looking at him, studying him, and he wanted her hands on him, her mouth on him so badly he thought he’d cry.

Her hands splayed over his chest and he tensed; her hands splayed over his belly and he moaned deeply; her hands came around him and he arched off the bed.

He felt himself quickly spinning into oblivion. “Caroline, sweetheart, you’ve got to stop now, please.”

Instead of stopping, she leaned down and kissed him. He gasped with the shock of it, the raw feelings that were roiling through him, and jerked upward.

He felt her palm splayed on his chest. “I’m very glad you’re my husband, North.”

His chest was heaving madly. He opened his eyes and stared up at her. Her eyes were wide and greener than the swamp grass at the base of the east slope. Her lips were slightly parted and he wanted to kiss her until they were both collapsed in a heap for want of breath.

“Will you let me go now, Caroline?”

“No, I don’t think so. I want to kiss you and touch you. I fear I got my steps out of order. It’s more exciting if one begins at the top of the mountain, it would seem, rather than starting at the, er, middle.”

“Yes,” he said. He felt her hands on him again and shuddered. “That’s your delightful way of thinking at work again.”

“Yes, but I should begin with your beautiful mouth, North.” She was on her knees above him, her hair all pulled over her right shoulder. She leaned over him and kissed him, her tongue lightly touching his bottom lip, as if she wasn’t certain exactly what to do. He didn’t mind a bit. It took everything in him, but he didn’t attack her or take the control from her. She kissed him more confidently and he thought he’d burst when her tongue slipped between his lips. She pulled away, looking down at him, then at his body. “Kissing you is very arousing, North. I must stop that for the moment else I’ll skip all sorts of steps.” She stopped, drew a deep breath that made his eyes fasten on her breasts. She said, “I like all the black hair on you. Here,” she

stroked and caressed his chest hair, “the hair’s so soft and warm. I don’t have anything like this.”

“No,” he said, wondering if there was a part of his body that could be considered unaware of her and what she was doing. He wanted her all over him.

“Always your mouth,” she said, and leaned over him again and kissed him. “I never thought kissing a man could be so very much fun.” Her breasts were against his chest, moving, caressing his flesh, and he wanted more than anything to come inside her. He tugged on the cravats that tied his wrists and they immediately came apart. Slowly, he brought his arms down and closed them around her back.

“Forgive me, Caroline, but it’s nearly too late for me. This might be fine for you, but for me it’s simply too much.” And he kissed her and stroked her and rolled her onto her back. He was nuzzling her ribs, trying to keep the meager control he had on himself, when he felt her hands sweep down his back.

He was over her then, staring down at her, thinking that surely she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life or in any other life he’d chanced to live. He caressed her with his fingers, a deep rhythm that he knew excited her, then he simply couldn’t wait a moment longer, and he was quickly part of her, pushing deeper and deeper and stroking her and kissing her, and when she gasped, stiffening, he smiled with satisfaction even as he kissed her deeply, taking her cries into his mouth. As for his own release, he thought he’d expire from the power of it.

“North?”

“Hmmm?” His head was beside hers on the pillow. How could she have recovered so quickly? He wanted to concentrate on breathing, nothing more, just breathing, so he would be able to live from one moment to the next, yet she’d been able to say his name clearly.

“Let’s have a dozen children, all right?”

“Hmmm.” He breathed in and out, slow, deep breaths. He felt her shifting beneath him, and to his chagrin and utter satisfaction he was swelling inside her. “Well, what the hell,” he said, and reared up, leaning down to kiss her even as he felt her tight around him, and surely there could be nothing more miraculous than this.

“What?” He shuddered, stopping dead.

“Hmmm? Oh, that is so nice, North, please—”

He must have misunderstood her. He would think about that later. He brought her to pleasure and then let himself ease into that remarkable moment that seemed to crystallize everything important in a man’s life. He was smiling, drained and sated and ready to sleep for a decade.


Tags: Catherine Coulter Legacy Historical