A Scandalous Past (Regency Romance, Book 4) (25 page)

She wished she’d had the chance to talk to
Livvie before this point. So she’d know what to expect, what was
expected of her. She should have pressed for this sort of
information when they last saw each other at Lady Staveley’s ball,
not that it would have been appropriate, but she’d at least have
some idea as to how to go from here. As it was, she was completely
lost.

“You use soap and water,” he said,
interrupting her thoughts, grinning at her.

Cordie blinked at him. “I beg your
pardon?”

“You asked what I wanted. You’re supposed to
bathe me, remember? Use soap and water.” He released his hold on
her and sunk into the tub. “Oh, and if you don’t mind, my dear,
could you place all our clothes in the hallway? The innkeeper said
he’d have them washed and pressed for us.”

Collecting their clothes was the perfect
distraction, and Cordie set to the task immediately. However, they
had very few articles and the chore was soon finished. She chanced
a glance at her husband, eyeing her from the tub. He smiled at her
and held up the bar of soap in his hand. An invitation.

Cordie swallowed nervously, but gathered her
courage and crossed the floor towards him. “You do realize,
Brendan, once we return home, someone else will have to play the
part of your valet. I’m not going to make a habit of collecting
your clothes or pulling off your boots or…bathing you after
this.”

His deep chuckle instantly disarmed her.
“You may like bathing me.”

She dropped to her knees beside the tub and reached
for the soap in his hands. His fingers closed around hers, and his
gaze caught her before he released his hold. Cordie took a
steadying breath and dipped the soap into the surprisingly warm
water. She worked up a slippery lather, and gingerly touched her
fingertips to Brendan’s chest.  His muscles contracted and she
pressed her hand against the firm ridge, skin to skin. A ripple of
desire spread through her and her eyes flashed to his. Dark,
intense with emotion.

“If you don’t want me to smell like horses,
my dear, you’re going to have to do better than that.” He guided
her hands with his own, up and down the panels of his chest,
sloshing soap and water everywhere. Brendan’s golden hair tickled
her fingers and sent hot flashes to her core. Touching his bare
skin, learning the feel of his body, made her very aware of his
strength and power—and how very much she wanted him.

“Use the pitcher for my hair, if you don’t
mind,” he said, breaking into her musings.

Cordie stood and retrieved a porcelain
pitcher from the washstand, hoping to gain some sort of control in
the process. When she turned back to Brendan, his eyes were still
focused on her, pupils dilated with potent desire.  An
answering response hardened her sensitive nipples.

The overwhelming need to tell him of her
heart washed over Cordie. She knelt beside him again, and filled
the pitcher with bath water. “Close your eyes,” she whispered. When
he complied, she poured the water over his golden hair and rose
higher on her knees to run the soap though his locks. “Brendan,”
she began as she ran her fingers through his hair, glad his eyes
were closed. This would be much easier to say if he wasn’t looking
at her. “I should have told you this already, and I feel awful I
haven’t done so before now…”

He said nothing, but furrowed his brow.

“It’s just that when you told me,” she said
quickly, hoping to relieve the look of concern on his face, “I was
so surprised, I couldn’t really think, which is not an excuse, I
know.” She was rambling, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She
refilled the pitcher with water and rinsed the soap from his hair.
“But the truth of the matter is, I’ve felt this way for quite a
while, even when I didn’t want to, even when I tried not to.”

She blotted a towel against his eyes, and he
opened them, piercing her with his stare. “What are you trying to
say, Cordie?”

“I—” she gulped, then continued with a
whisper, “Brendan, I love you.”

In the blink of an eye, he’d hauled her into
the tub with him. She didn’t even have time to gasp at being soaked
completely though, as he crushed his lips to hers. His hands were
everywhere, cradling her bottom, caressing her back, pulling at the
buttons on her nightrail. All the while, his lips never left hers.
Water sloshed to the floor at regular intervals and the groans from
her husband became more desperate.

Finally, he pulled his head back and stared
at her with relief. “Thank God.” His wet hand cupped her cheek,
sending warmth shooting through her body. “You don’t know how badly
I needed to hear that.”

Cordie kissed his palm, then snuggled
against his chest. When Brendan’s arms wrapped around her, she
smiled. This was everything she wanted in life. “Was it quite
necessary to drag me in here with you?” She touched her lips to his
chest, reveling in the intimacy as he stroked her hair.

“Um,” he answered. “It seemed the thing to
do at the time.”

She giggled and rejoiced when he laughed
along with her, knowing she would never forget this moment as long
as she lived. Cordie rested her hand on his chest and looked up
into his dark blue eyes. “I don’t suppose you have another set of
dry clothes for me to wear?”

A smile tugged at his lips as he shook his
head. “But I’m certain I can keep you warm enough.”

He lifted her in his arms and stood up in
the tub, water dripping in rivulets down them both. He stepped out
of the bath, and crossed the floor towards their bed. “Let’s get
you out of this, shall we?”

Back on her own feet, Cordie sucked in a
surprised breath when Brendan’s hands returned to the buttons of
her nightrail.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” he
told her, as he peeled the wet material from her body, letting it
pool at their feet. “I’ll be careful with you.”

The cool air hit her body, and her nipples
hardened into tight peaks. She was mortified that Brendan noticed
this too, then his warm, wet hands gently caressed her breasts,
pushed against her nipples, and Cordie thought she’d expire on the
spot. The silky smoothness of his fingers on her bare skin was the
most intense, exhilarating sensation she’d ever experienced.

His lips captured hers and Cordie couldn’t
stop the moan of pleasure from escaping when Brendan licked at her
nipples, slid his hands around to cup her bottom, and massaged the
muscles into taut awareness. Moist heat pooled between her legs,
and
that
part of him prodded
against her belly. He licked her lips. “I have needed you for so
long.”

Cordie sighed when he pressed her down onto
the mattress beneath him. She stared up into his twilight eyes and
swallowed. “Please,” she said, when he only looked at her.
Shouldn’t he be doing
something
?

Brendan nuzzled her neck, and let his
fingers trail down her side. “I don’t want to rush, and I need to
make sure you’re ready for me, love.”

Ready for him? She’d been ready for him for
the last month. Denying it, hiding from it, wishing it away. But
now… Now there was no reason not to…

His warm hand caressed her belly, then
slid
lower
. Cordie held her
breath. What was he doing? Then Brendan’s mouth covered one of her
nipples and he gently sucked, nipped, and then sucked again. The
rhythm was her undoing.  “Brendan,” she gasped, unconsciously
grasping his still wet hair.

A finger trailed through her springy hair
and his palm cupped her mound. She tightened instantlysucked in a
breath as his finger probed her folds, nudged at her entrance, then
slowly pressed inside. She tightened instantly, but relaxed and
when he suckled her breast. 

Brendan’s finger nudged at her entrance, and
then slowly pressed forward. Cordie closed her eyes, reveling in
the feel of him inside her. Rhythmically, he pressed in and out of
her, over and over, until Cordie was writhing beneath him. It was
like nothing she’d ever imagined. Then his thumb brushed against
something
, and she lost complete control. Screaming her
husband’s name, release engulfed her. Her legs fell open,
limp.  She struggled to catch her breath.

Brendan’s hand left her, moving slowly up
her belly, trailing fire wherever he touched.  He shifted his
position, urging her legs wider, kneeling before her. His lips
found hers, and he devoured her, tangling his tongue with hers,
marking her as his. “Dear God, I love you,” he whispered
fervently.

He nudged again at her entrance, this time with
something much larger than his finger and Cordie’s eyes widened in
surprise. Brendan kissed them closed, used his tongue to open her
lips, stroke the moist softness of her mouth. He cupped her bottom,
raised her slightly off the bed, and slowly, gently pushed into
her. She sucked in a breath.

His handsome face looked strained as he
pushed forward, and she sucked in a breath. She’d never imagined it
would feel like this. Strange, exhilarating, urgent, all rolled
into one. She wriggled against him, wanting him deeper, and he
gasped. “For God’s sake, Cordie. I’m trying to go slowly.”

“Please, don’t,” she begged. “You’re
torturing me.”

He choked on a laugh. “I think it’s the
other way ‘round, my love.” But he pressed himself deeper and
groaned, his fingers digging into her skin.

Then he took a deep breath. “Please remember
that I love you.”

Cordie beamed at him. She could never forget
that, no matter how many years she—

Brendan thrust forward, and she sucked in a
breath, startled by the slight pain.

“Oh!”

He looked at once remorseful. “I’m so
sorry.”

But the pain was already ebbing, and she
touched his cheek, hating to see his mournful expression. “I’m
fine. But if you don’t continue, I think I shall expire from
want.”

Relief washed across his face. “Thank
God.”

He moved deeper inside her, until it was
impossible to determine where he ended and she began. Then he
pulled out, only to thrust back inside. Over and over he did this,
holding her in place with his hands, while strangled need coursed
through her veins. Cordie writhed, wanting him closer, wanting him
deeper, until he started to rock against that sensitive spot and
all the stars in the sky fell from their celestial homes, crashing
down on her.

“Oh, Cordie!” her husband growled, thrusting
deep, one last time. It felt as if lava gushed inside her.

Brendan released his hold on her and
collapsed at her side, holding her tightly in his arms. “My darling
wife, I don’t think I’ll ever be the same.”

Sated and exhausted, Cordie snuggled in his
embrace, resting her head on his chest. “Ummm, never,” she
whispered dreamily.

With early morning light streaming through
the windows, Brendan slowly awoke. His wife was nestled against
him, her soft breath tickling the hair on his chest. Last night had
been the most amazing of his life. For the first time in so long,
he was optimistic about the future.

He was desperately in love with his bride,
and her with him—something he hadn’t even dared hope for. Their
marriage would secure his mother’s letters, freeing him from the
nightmare he’d been living for too many years.

Cordie stirred in his arms and he glanced
again at her beautiful face. Her pert little nose was scrunched up
and her hand fluttered toward her eyes. The morning light glinted
off the golden band on her finger and his heart swelled with pride.
Though this was not the route he would have preferred to take to
the altar, or anvil as the case may be, he’d do it all over
again.

Cordie’s cold foot slid up his leg and his
eyes flashed to her face, to find a teasing smile on her lips.
“Good morning, husband.”

He grinned back, still amazed at his luck
that this goddess would warm his bed until the end of time. “Ah, my
beautiful wife,” he said, rolling Cordie to her back. “Are you
sore, darling?” he asked, kissing her collarbone as his hand teased
a nipple.

“A little,” she admitted. “Though it was
well worth it.” An innocent blush colored her cheeks as she ran her
fingers over his chest. “Must we leave, Brendan? Can’t we just stay
here forever?”

In other words, not back to their lives or
the real world they’d left behind. He rose up on his arms and
softly claimed her mouth, caressing her cheek. He’d do anything to
make her happy, but they couldn’t stay here. “This from the woman
who told me yesterday she had no intention of playing my valet? How
would we go on
here
, sweetheart?”

She furrowed her brow. “Well, not
here
then. But, well, I’m just not ready to give you
up.”

He wasn’t all that anxious to return to
London, either. Now that she was his wife, there was no pressing
need for the letters. Her family would certainly hand them over.
They didn’t need to rush back for them. “Cordie, instead of heading
for London, why don’t we go to Bayhurst Court instead? I’m anxious
for you to meet Thomas and Rose, for you to see my home—
our
home.”

She smiled brightly, making his heart leap.
“I would like that very much. Besides, I don’t think I could take
another long coach ride anyway for a while. My bottom will be
bruised for months as it is.”

“Indeed?” he asked with a grin. “Let me
see.”

Mortified, she pushed away from him. “I beg
your pardon?”

Life with her would never be dull. Brendan
tugged her back into his arms. “Now be a dutiful wife and let me
see your bottom.”

“Absolutely not!”

He kissed her, deeply, relishing the taste
of her lips and the warmth of her mouth. Cordie’s fingers danced
through his hair, and he groaned, wishing madly that she hadn’t
admitted to being sore. It would be so nice to take her again. With
strength, he didn’t know he possessed, Brendan pulled out of his
wife’s hold, smiled rakishly, and flipped her onto her belly.