Page 12 of The Duke's Sister's Absolutely Excellent Engagement (The Notorious Briarwoods Book 11)

T he lush tent had been set up like some mystical abode from a novel.

Under the stars and bright summer moonlight, positioned beneath the arms of old oak trees, it was beautiful and whispered of the decadence of a life of adventure.

Tassels dangled from the corners and its peak was high. Both of them were full of curiosity and excitement as Nestor guided Margery inside and closed the silken curtains behind them, tying them shut, sealing out the real world, immersing them in a place meant only for pleasure.

On the inside, the massive tent was no rustic, spare space.

Oh no, it had been made up with every need that one could think of.

His family amazed him, though they shouldn’t have.

This was exactly the sort of thing that his family would do.

Somehow, they had made it happen very quickly, understanding that the newlyweds might not wish to engage in newlywed behavior, surrounded by such a large family, knowing exactly what was transpiring.

So, as Nestor understood, his father had had this set up like some fairyland out in the middle of the forest near Heron House.

They both took in the silken walls, beautiful carpets, and flickering colored-glass lanterns that bathed the space in multihued light.

Low chairs and rich pillows were strewn about everywhere.

“I have never seen anything like it,” she gushed. “Certainly nothing from my childhood would’ve caused me to anticipate this for my wedding night.”

“Nor I, if I am honest, but it’s perfect. It is like we are stepping outside of time and reality, and there is nothing but—”

“Us,” she said.

“Is that what you wanted?” he asked, wishing her to be thrilled.

“Yes, nothing but us,” she affirmed.

Then she boldly closed the distance between them, daring to link hers arms about his neck. He loved this part of Margery. This beautiful part kept coming out, as she showed her boldness and what she truly felt inside.

Though she was bold, as he stood in her arms, he felt a wave of nerves. The conversation with his father had been most intriguing, extensive even. Oh, his father had discussed intercourse with him many a time. His mother and father both believed that ignorance was not a good thing for anyone. So, at quite a young age, they’d educated him on the basics of it all.

Nestor had understood the anatomical aspects of intercourse, and then later his father had described more to him and how wonderful the union of a man and woman could be.

And, of course, he had read extensively, quite extensively. There had also been pictures, drawings, and, of course, paintings of beautiful, naked figures. He wasn’t ignorant, but he was without experience, and he was desperately afraid of failing Margery.

His father had been patient with him, giving him instructions on how important it was to be careful, to be gentle, and not be lost in the excitement of it all.

Impulsivity and lack of control were likely to occur in a young man who had not experienced this. He dreaded that. He couldn’t let that happen.

“Are you quite all right?” she asked.

He cleared his throat. “Of course I am,” he said, “but I don’t want to get this wrong.”

“Can we get it wrong?” she queried as her brow furrowed.

He blew out a slow breath, bringing his hands to her hips, then letting them travel lower. “I think we could, yes. So, I must be very careful.”

She cocked her head to the side, her eyes shining with desire for him. “I don’t want you to be careful,” she whispered. “What I want is for you to be you. Let us shed all of our fears now.”

And then he thought of the little boy he’d been so many years ago, who had been determined never to be afraid. And here she was, his wife, urging him not to be afraid.

It actually felt perfect.

He had chosen the right partner. He understood better than most that the choosing of a spouse was the most important decision of one’s life. His whole family knew that, and he knew, standing here in the ornate tent that was as grand as any prince’s chamber, with her arms about his shoulders, encouraging him to believe that there was no way that he could disappoint her or get this wrong, that he had chosen truly.

He let out a low growl of hunger. He had been starving for her for weeks now. It was so hard not to gobble her up. “I do not know how long I will be able to speak coherently.”

She smiled. “Coherently?”

He bit his lower lip and nodded. “Right now, it feels as if all my thoughts are rushing out of my head because I desire you so.”

“I’m glad you desire me,” she murmured. “Quite honestly, I never thought I’d be the sort of woman who you would desire. You could have anyone.”

“I don’t want anyone. I want you,” he whispered, determined to show her exactly how much he did desire her and no one else.

He was a young man who had had many opportunities to explore desire. Young ladies of many different stations and married women had offered to be his tutor and guide. He had not been interested. Not truly. But now, he knew he’d been saving himself for her.

She was meant to be his tutor, his guide, as he was hers.

They were a true partnership, one in which no one was superior. They were equals. He smiled down at her and ventured, “Should we have less talking and more doing?”

Her smile transformed into one of invitation. “That sounds very reasonable to me.”

And so he lowered his head and kissed her. There should be a great deal of kissing, he remembered. A great deal of touching. So, he did exactly as he had been instructed. He kissed her slowly, almost reverently.

His body urged him to speed up. The head of his cock already pulsed with need. His limbs already hummed with a need to tear her clothes off, take her to the bed upon the carpeted floor, and make love to her swiftly. Though he’d never forgive himself if he did that. That would be the most terrible memory he would carry for the rest of his life. As would she.

So, he forced himself to go slowly. Forced himself to feel her so that he would not get lost and take the wrong route.

He kissed her cheeks, eyelids, and chin.

He took her head to the side and worshiped at her throat, and then, with trembling hands, he began to undo her gown.

In all his life, he’d never felt so much excitement. He was about to see her without her clothes on, and it was thrilling. Quickly, even though his fingers did not feel nimble, he worked at the ties. He fumbled. Wordlessly, she moved her hands to help him, without judgment, without recrimination. Then her clothes whisked to the floor.

His breath caught in his throat as he took her in. It was almost too much. She was too beautiful, too perfect. His eyes traveled over her pale body, from the gentle curve of her shoulders, to the perfect swell of her apple-sized breasts, to her pink nipples. His gaze descended to the hourglass curve of her ribs and hips, then down to her thighs and the apex between her legs. He lingered on the soft curls there, staring.

She stood naked before him, her expression one of hope.

“In all my life, I have never seen anything as magnificent as you,” he managed.

And then her face transformed with bliss, and his own joy at having said just the right thing raced through him.

Without hesitation now, Nestor pulled her to him. But she playfully held him back.

“We are both new to this, and I wish to see you,” she breathed.

Now it was her turn to work at his clothes, and it was his turn to help her undo the buttons, untie his cravat, and work to remove his clothes.

After a few imperfectly perfect moments of struggle with his breeches, they both stood naked together, observing each other, amazed by the beautiful bodies that they had both been given.

Slowly, they came together, entwining.

He brought her to lie on the soft bed. Quietly, they laid in each other’s arms, staring into each other’s eyes, full of wonder.

He wanted her to enjoy this, but it was becoming hard to wait. He stroked his fingers all along her body, and then between her thighs. He drew his fingers into her wet, slick heat. The feel of it nearly undid him.

He felt his cock bob with eagerness to take her, but he had to do this. He wanted to make her feel bliss. So, he watched her face carefully as he stroked her. When her face brightened and her lips parted with shocked pleasure, he knew he had found her special spot.

Margery gasped and arched.

“Guide me,” he murmured as he studied her. “Tell me what you truly like. Do not hold anything back.”

And he began to circle his fingers.

She moved ever so slightly, and he realized she wanted him to move his fingers a little bit. “Like this?” he asked, for he wanted them to always be truthful with each other.

She nodded, and then he inserted a single finger and then another into her core.

She arched against his hand and a cry of pure pleasure came from her throat. She gripped his arms, and then her breathing slowed. It was time now. He knew this from the way her cheeks had crested pink and her body had tightened.

He moved over her awkwardly, nervous, but ready. Oh, so ready.

Nestor gazed down into her eyes. She nodded that she was ready.

He licked his lips and, with slightly shaking hands, he parted her thighs and positioned himself at her opening. There were no words to describe his feelings in that moment. It was temping to close his eyes, but instead, he focused on her and then pressed forward.

The perfection of it, the bliss, was so much that he almost lost himself in that single second, but he did not because he knew that he could hurt her.

He was careful as he rocked forward into her tight sheath. He groaned at the effort as he met her maidenhead. She tensed for a moment, gritting her teeth. But then, as soon as he pushed through her barrier, she relaxed, pulling him close to her.

Nestor rocked his hips slowly back and forth, and then instinct took over. He could no longer hold himself back. He thrust in and out.

She cried out his name, and for the first time in his life, he knew that he had never understood what bliss was. Bliss was Margery.