Page 84 of Marry in Scandal
She probably needed one as well.
Though once again, she’d seemed to take it all in her stride without a fuss. He was sure other bridegrooms—the ones who’d bungled things as he had—heneverlost control!—had to deal with tears and recriminations, or stiff, martyred silences. What had that aunt of hers told her?An unpleasantness to be endured.
He’d probably ensured that, pouncing on her like an eager boy. But Lily seemed quite philosophical. He was certain she wasn’t trying to disconcert or tease him—she wasn’t that sophisticated. She was simply trying to be candid.
But lord, to be on a wretched sliding scale somewhere between bliss andendurance vile! He snorted at the inadvertent pun. But it wasn’t the least bit funny.
He prided himself on his skills in the bedroom. Never before, not since he was an awkward youth, had he left a woman less than thoroughly satisfied.
And now, to fall short of his usual standard, on his wedding night, with his innocent new bride—it was mortifying. He wanted to take her back to bed and show her how it was supposed to be.
Only she was bound to be sore. He had a feeling he’d been unwontedly rough. He’d utterly lost control. He couldn’t recall the last time that had happened.
She hadn’t complained—but that was Lily; she wasn’t the type to whine. In any case, she’d been a virgin.Hewas the expert here, the one who was supposed to induct her into the pleasures of the bedchamber.
Somewhere between endurance vile and bliss. A vast gulf between the two.
Next time they lay together, he’d take it slowly and bring her to—forget bliss!—he’d show her the meaning of ecstasy. And in the meantime...
• • •
The minute Edward closed the door behind him, Lily slipped out of bed. She found a large jug of water behind a screen in the corner of the room, cold now, of course. She quickly washed her face and sponged the rest of her body, especially between her legs, which was a bit sticky.
She pressed the wet cloth against her heated skin, enjoying the cooling sensation. She was a woman now, a wife. Emm’s explanations of what to expect on her wedding night had been a little vague and unclear, and Lily could see why now. Who could find words to describe... that?
She tried to recall that almost-feeling. As if she’d quivered on the brink of... something. And then lost it.
Had she done something wrong? The trouble was she couldn’t think of anything she’d actually done. As well to expect a gale-tossed leaf to remember the journey it had taken.
But she could tell Edward hadn’t been quite happy about it.
Imperfect or not, the experience had been... breathtaking. She’d had the physical procedure of the act explained to her, but she hadn’t been in any way prepared for how it would make herfeel.
She shivered deliciously in remembrance. It had been blissful at the start... those kisses and caresses, and the way he’d removed her clothing, piece by piece, as if unwrapping a very special gift.
The touch of his hands... of his mouth... She’d felt like a candle, ignited, melting.
And when he’d slid into her—it had hurt a little, of course, but she’d expected that—but oh, the way it had made her feel. Strange and raw and yet somehow, right. The intenseintimacyof it was a little overwhelming. Then when he’d started to move inside her... her body responding without her volition, shuddering and gripping him, in away she’d never imagined... And that buildup of almost unbearable intensity...
As if they were caught in a storm—she’d clung onto him for dear life, giving herself up to the rhythm and the power—and oh, if that wasn’t glory, it was close. Then that sound he’d made at the end, primeval and masculine—possessive?—before he collapsed on top of her. She had held him tight—her husband—feeling his ragged breathing slow, his big, beautiful, powerful body, relaxed and satiated, stroking him through his jacket.
What might it be like if they were both unclothed, lying skin to skin? Another delicious ripple of sensation passed through her at the thought. She smiled to herself. She knew now what those inner shudders meant.
Emm had said it would get better with practice. Lily couldn’t imagine how, but she was eager to try.
Poor Aunt Agatha, with herunpleasantness to be endured. Three husbands and it seemed as though none of them had made her feel the way Lily had felt after one time with Edward.
A sound outside startled her. Oh, heavens, she’d been dreaming for goodness knew how long. Dinner would be here any second and she didn’t want strange and unknown servants to catch her in her beautiful but flimsy nightdress. She put on the bed jacket that went with the nightdress, but a glance in the looking glass showed her that it was just as delightfully improper and failed entirely to protect her modesty.
She looked in the wardrobe and found a pretty Chinese-style silk wrapper. She slipped it on and was searching for slippers when a knock sounded on the connecting door.
“Are you ready? They’re here with the food.” Edward’s hair was damp and combed carelessly back. It curled a little at the end. He wore a robe, a long green brocade banyan, embroidered with glints of silver thread that brought out the color of his eyes in his somber, tanned face. He looked magnificent, like some exotic eastern potentate, with glittering, frosted emerald eyes.
At his command, the door opened and in came twofootmen carrying trays ladened with covered dishes. The butler followed with a silver tray on which rested glasses and a champagne bottle, gently fizzing. They moved a side table close to the bed and set out everything on it, then, at a silent signal from Edward, the servants withdrew.
“They’re very well trained,” she said when they’d left. They hadn’t so much as glanced in her direction. “They must have wondered—well, you can imagine what they must be thinking. But they didn’t look in the least bit shocked.”
“I never worry about what servants might think.” Edward picked up the silver covers one by one and inspected the contents. “In any case these fellows are accustomed to much more scandalous goings-on when Tremayne is in residence.”