Amelia (The Marriage Market Book 1) (8 page)

"Are you all right, darling," he inquired with feigned concern when her fists clutched the bedclothes. Nibbling her other thigh, his finger moved down to her portal and gently circled the small opening as he allowed her to recover a bit.

"I think so, but this is certainly not going in my book. I'm sure this inspection is highly improper. Am I still leaking? Can you tell where it's coming from?"

Looking up at her, Hugh saw her eyes were squeezed tightly shut as she tried to catch her breath. It really was cruel of him to make her worry so, but he was having a wonderful time and was sorry to see it end.

"Amelia, look at me," he ordered.

Raising her head, she opened her eyes and gave him her full attention.

"I'm sorry, but I've been teasing you a bit. This is all perfectly normal, darling. What you refer to as leaking is your body getting ready for my possession. The fluid is shiny and slippery and it's meant to ease the path. This little button here," he said, stopping to kiss it a few times, "is called a clitoris. When you get excited it pops out, wanting its share of attention. It's the key to your pleasure, sweetheart. Your pretty nipples, when played with or suckled, also stimulate your desire.

"This opening is where I will put my cock," he continued, carefully moving his finger in and out as he tested the strength of her barrier. "This will be pleasurable too once we get through the first time."

"Can I see it?" she asked with trepidation as her eyes traveled over what she could see of his body in the firelight. "I'd like to see what's going in there."

Hugh considered her request, but went with his gut instinct.

"Not this time, sweetheart. I don't think it's a good idea. Later when we've become more familiar with each other you can look at it and touch it to your heart's delight, but for tonight I think not. I don't want you to be any more apprehensive than you already are."

Amelia closed her eyes and he felt her body tense.

"So is that it, the end of your little secrets?" she demanded sarcastically.

Hugh did not like her tone at all. On impulse he removed his slick finger and positioned it at her anus.

"Not everything, but you will learn as we go," he said sternly, inching inside her ass to the first knuckle. Lowering his mouth to her clit he sucked it into his mouth, lashing it with his tongue as he pushed in to the second knuckle. He groaned, feeling her tighten around him as she cried out and lifted her hips. Satisfied, he withdrew. He'd meant is as a slight punishment for her sassy mouth, but it turned into something else entirely. Her heat seared him and as much as she would insist she hated what he'd just done, he knew differently. Smiling, he anticipated the pleasure of taking her there. Rising from the bed, he left the room to wash his hands. When he returned, Amelia was naked in front of the fireplace, drinking what appeared to be the last glass of wine.

Giving him a defiant look, she drained her glass.

Hugh didn't utter a word, he just pointed to the bed as her eyes traveled down his naked body. While not fully erect, his cock was not flaccid either. Apparently what she saw was enough to make her obey and very quickly at that. Flinging herself on the bed, she waited.

She fought him, in her own little way as he kissed and caressed every part of her. When he attended to her breasts, she swallowed every moan and sigh. His hands skimmed her tummy before seeking out her clit and stroking it to full prominence, still she held her tongue. Finally he demanded an explanation.

"Why are you lying here like a piece of wood?" he demanded. "I know you like it; you're body tells its own story."

"Because I don't want to," she insisted.

"You don't want to make love?"

"No, I don't want to like it," she sniffed miserably.

"Believe me, that can be arranged," he retorted with a grin. "But not tonight. Tonight has to be special and I will wring an orgasm from you if it kills us both."

"What's an orgasm?" she asked, her eyes searching his face.

"I'm about to show you," he promised. Rolling her over, he slapped her ass three times before pulling her back. "And you, my little bride, will cooperate or there will be more where that came from."

Taking her lips he teased them open and swept her mouth with his tongue until she engaged in the battle. Kissing his way across her cheek, he nibbled her ear lobe, giving it a tiny bite before making his way down the side of her neck. There he dallied, sucking as his fingers brushed the crest of her breasts. It wasn't long before she was offering her neck for further attention as her breasts swelled in his hands.

Her body quivered when he finally moved to draw her nipples into his mouth, first one, and then the other. Quiet moans soon followed and when his hand slid over her tummy he felt her tense in anticipation. His long fingers quickly located her clit in the slippery folds and before long she was dancing to the tune he played on her body. Each time he drew his finger away to gather more of her honey, she tried to follow him. In the end, she was helpless against his skilled onslaught.

The tighter her body seemed to coil, the more frightened Amelia became. What was he doing to her? There was a white-hot need spreading through her body she didn't know how to assuage. Finally on the verge of screaming, she grabbed the hand between her legs and held it as she looked at him with pleading eyes.

"I'm scared," she whispered, as a tear slid down her cheek.

"Trust me," Hugh whispered as he kissed it away. "I won't let you go, my love. I'll take care of you."

Amelia nodded and released his hand. Ever after Hugh knew that was the exact moment he fell in love with her. Innocent, frightened, she gave him his way and handed over her soul. In return she took his heart.

Seconds after he resumed stroking her, she screamed and came apart in his arms. Part of him wanted to savor the moment and hold her endlessly. Another part, the more insistent part, demanded his own release. Moving between her thighs, he lifted her to him and entered her in one thrust, tearing the thin membrane in the process. She struggled to get away as she cried out, but Hugh held firm. Her hips tight in his grasp, her body fully impaled, he waited out her weakening efforts.

Amelia looked at him with teary, accusing eyes and Hugh smiled sadly. Letting her hips sink back to the bed he leaned over her, kissing away her tears.

"That's the worst of it, sweetheart," he promised gently. "It will never again hurt like that and I'm sorry I had to do it this way. I just couldn't see any sense of prolonging it. Best to be quick and get it over with. Do you understand?"

Amelia shook her head no and tried to wiggle into a better position. It still burned, but the intense pain was fading. Maybe he was right, but she was not going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

Hugh felt her body expanding and took advantage, sliding out of her tight channel a few inches and pumping back in. It was almost too much to bear. So tight, so warm, he was beyond stopping once he started and when she arched her hips slightly to meet his thrust, he growled with pleasure. Soon she was panting along with him, her arms creeping around his shoulders to hold him closer. Slipping a hand between their bodies, he stroked her button a few times before she convulsed in his arms, her head thrown back as she cried out. That was all the permission Hugh needed and he let himself go, plunging into her over and over before she could recover. Lights flashed behind his eyes as his balls tightened and his release overtook his sanity, filling her with jet after jet of his hot seed. He struggled for breath. Just before collapsing on her, he rolled to his side, took her bottom in his hand and yanked her to him. Still imbedded in her quivering pussy, he closed his eyes and gave a prayer of thanks before falling asleep.

It was still dark out when Hugh woke her and assisted her to the water closet.

"They'll be here to get our trunks soon," he informed her before closing the door and giving her privacy. Picking up the rest of his things, he put them in his valise. Seconds later he was shocked to hear a small scream from the adjoining room. Flinging open the door, he took one look at her tired, confused eyes and knew immediately what was wrong as she held a bloody cloth in her hand.

"I don't know what's wrong," she stammered, shivering. "It's not my time. Why is there all this blood? What have you done to me?"

Hugh would have smiled at her innocence were her eyes not filled with tears. Striding across the room, he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as he stroked her back.

"Nothing is wrong, sweetheart," he assured her. "It's perfectly normal for a woman to bleed at bit the first time she's taken by a man. Did they teach you anything at Mrs. Pettigrew's that was actually useful?" he asked, kissing the top of her head.

"I'm sure they did, although I can't recall much at the moment." Hanging onto him for dear life, she took a moment to savor his strength and knowledge. "When will it stop?" she whispered into his chest."

"I'm sure it already has. I'm sorry I didn't take care of this last night. I should have."

"What do you mean? You would have washed me?" she asked stunned.

"Of course I would have. It was me who made you bleed and I should have attended to you properly."

"I think you're a strange man, Hugh Jordon," she replied.

"Nevertheless, would you like my help now?"

"No, no, I can do it," she said with a blush as she released him. "I'm sorry I acted like such a baby. I just never expected anything like this."

"Shh, there's no need to be embarrassed and you didn't act like a baby. I knew you were innocent and it's entirely my fault," Hugh assured her. Stroking the hair from her face, he tipped her chin up and kissed her. "Hurry along and get cleaned up," he said, patting her bottom. "We need to be on our way."

Amelia washed quickly, taking special care between her legs where she was tender. The dried blood on her thighs had frightened her and now she felt like a complete dunce. What skills had Mrs. Pettigrew taught them that were of any use in this situation? Yes, she could fold a lovely napkin, manage a dinner party for twenty and paint a bowl of fruit, but how did that prepare a girl for real life? Shaking her head, she took her robe from the back of the door and slipped it on. Her new husband had likely seen every inch of her now, but that didn't mean she was going to parade around in front of him naked.

Once in the bedroom, she gathered the clothing she'd chosen and retreated behind the dressing screen. She emerged dressed in her freshly cleaned gray traveling suit, struggling to fasten the back.

Hugh smiled and turned her around, working the closures himself.

"If there were any extra women around, I'd think about getting you a ladies maid," he teased. "Sit down; I'll brush your hair."

Sitting on the stool in front of the vanity, Amelia sighed as he gently pulled the brush through her hair until there were no more tangles. Thanking him, she twisted the heavy mass into an acceptable chignon and used multiple hairpins to hold it. The knock on the door startled her, but she was happy to see the cart being rolled in.

"I ordered both coffee and tea, as I didn't know which you preferred in the morning," Hugh explained. "We'll have breakfast aboard ship once we get underway."

"That was very thoughtful of you. I'll have coffee this morning. I think it will help me wake up," she said, rising. "Let me serve you."

"No, I'll do it. Finish putting your things in your bag. We don't have much time. What do you take?"

"One sugar and a splash of cream," she said as she packed her toiletries away.

"Have you a heavy cloak? It's quite cool on the water," he said, handing her the cup.

"Yes, it's in that trunk." Taking a sip, she watched her husband retrieve it and place it on the bed before relocking it and pocketing the key.

No sooner had they finished their coffee than a quiet knock sounded at the door.

Hugh let the two men in and placed the cloak over Amelia's shoulders.

"Well, Mrs. Jordon," he said, fastening the frogs down the front and pulling up the hood. "Are you ready?" His hands held her shoulders and a satisfied smile tilted his lips.

"Lead on," she replied with a grin.

Once aboard the ship, Amelia took one look at the huge bed and quickly climbed in. Hugh smiled and covered her with a quilt before kissing her cheek.

"I need to have a word with the captain," he said, tucking her in. "Get some rest as I intend to keep you up half the night."

Amelia opened one eye, sending him an evil look before sticking out her tongue and snuggling in. Her husband swatted her on the bottom and left with a light step.

It was several hours before she awoke. The first thing she noticed was the gentle rocking of the ship. Stretching, she sat up and saw a tray sitting on the built-in bureau. On it was a wrapped pastry along with a sealed container. Using the steps, she got off the bed and padded to the tray realizing Hugh must have returned and removed her shoes and cloak. Opening the jug she took a sniff, delighted to discover hot chocolate. It was still warm when she poured it into the cup.

Walking to the porthole, she stood on her tiptoes and saw nothing but the blue water of the Pacific. Apparently they were well underway. Returning to the tray, she picked up the pastry and wandered the room, investigating every nook and cranny as she nibbled. There were nautical books, compasses and charts showing the ocean currents all the way up the west coast. She studied them until she was interrupted by a knock on the cabin door. Opening it, she saw a crewmember with a face wizened by the wind and sun.

"Excuse me, Ma'am," he said. "Your husband asked me to bring you some warm water at ten bells. He said he's sorry he's tied up in a business discussion with the captain, but he hopes to be free by noon." Entering the room he placed the pitcher of water in a bowl fastened to a stand.

"Mr. Jordon requests you meet him in the Galley at noon, but not to wait for him. He'll join you as soon as he can. Best be on time, ma'am. The cook gets testy when folks don't show up at mealtime. By the way, my name is Charlie. Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No. Thank you, Charlie. Where is the galley?"

"Come out the door and go right. When you come to the end, turn left and it's halfway down the corridor. If Mr. Jordon is delayed, you're sure to have plenty of company, ma'am. There are a lot of ladies on this trip."

Amelia nodded and closed the door behind him. Thankfully, Hugh had unlocked her trunk at some point and she pulled out a pretty cream day dress with green sprigs. After straightening the bed, she spread the dress out on top of it and smoothed the wrinkles away with her hands. Taking a seat in a large chair bolted to the floor, she poured the last of her chocolate into the cup and savored it.

It was a few minutes before noon when she arrived at the galley, surprised to find a group of chattering women. As a new arrival, she was subjected to a variety of looks when the women noticed her standing in the doorway. Some smiled at her, some nodded politely and a few looked her up and down before returning to their conversations.

A blonde haired woman sitting with a little girl motioned her over to her table. Amelia quickly made her way to her side. Soon they were joined by two more women.

"Hello," she said as soon as Amelia was settled. "I'm Alice and this is my daughter, Delia. This is Jane and Martha."

"I'm Amelia," she replied gratefully. "For a moment, I wasn't sure if I was going to be invited to join you or tossed overboard."

"Oh, don't mind them," Jane offered. "Most of them are so nervous they can hardly string two sentences together. I guess that's what comes from going off to the middle of nowhere to find a husband," she added grinning.

Amelia liked Jane, the older woman, immediately.

"Are you going to Seattle, too?" Martha asked.

"Why yes, I am."

"To find a husband?"

"No, I'm already married," Amelia said with a shy smile as she held out her hand and showed off her ring.

"Oh, that's pretty," Alice said as the gold caught the light. "Have you been married long?"

"One whole day," Amelia laughed.

"Well girls, here's one you don't have to worry about," Jane called to the room in general. "She's already married."

The room erupted with laughter and the looks this time were much more cordial.

"All right, you chatterboxes," a deep voice boomed. "Grub's on. This ain't no pleasure cruise. You want to eat, get up here and get your vittles. I don't have time to wait on you."

Amelia looked up in surprise and watched a very large man wearing a less than clean apron putting bowls and platters of food through an opening in the wall and onto a large sideboard with a two inch ledge.

"Well," he barked. "What are you waiting for?" Grumbling, he walked away and returned with more dishes and a huge pot of coffee. "Don't know why this ship's full of women, no how. Every sailor knows they're nothing but bad luck," he muttered.

"That's Mick, the cook," Martha whispered. "Come on, we'd best get in line." Rising from the table, she moved to the end of the line of women and the others joined her. Amelia looked down the corridor in search of Hugh, but he was not in sight. Finally she took the last place and followed the others.

There were stacks of plates and utensils at one end of the sideboard and she took what was needed. Bowls of steaming mashed potatoes and platters of sliced ham quickly disappeared to be replaced by new. Peas and rolls rounded out the meal and Amelia took a bit of everything. Next to the coffee was a big bowl of oranges she would have passed up had Alice not whispered to her to put one in her pocket for later. Making her way back to the table was difficult with her hands full and so many chairs blocking the way, but she finally sat down with a sigh.

"Are all the meals like this?" she asked, wishing she had a napkin to lay in her lap.

"We've only had one other," Martha answered, "and that was breakfast this morning. And yes, I would expect the same thing for the rest of our voyage. I don't think it's likely Mick will suddenly get a personality."

Instantly they were laughing, even Delia giggled. When Mick glared suspiciously at them through the window, they lowered their gazes to their plates like mischievous schoolgirls.

"Good grief, imagine being stuck with someone like that for a husband?" Martha whispered. Trying to hold back her laugh, Amelia snorted, and nearly choked, completely embarrassed, as the others laughed harder. Finally they were able to compose themselves and continue eating, but the mood had been lightened considerably.

"So," Jane said. "If you're not going to Seattle to find a husband, do you have family there?"

"It's where my husband's home is," Amelia replied. "I've only been here a short time and we were married yesterday."

"That's wonderful!" Alice beamed. "I hope you'll be very happy. I have a man waiting for me in Seattle and hope to be married soon. He works for a timber company. Delia needs a father and I've been a widow for several years."

"Oh, really, what's his name? My husband and his family are in the timber business. Maybe he knows him," Amelia said with a smile.

"His name is Clarence Henderson."

"No, I don't recall Hugh mentioning that name, but I've been in such a whirlwind lately, maybe I forgot. I'll ask him. Wouldn't it be lovely if we were neighbors? I don't know a soul in Seattle."

Suddenly the table went quiet and Amelia looked up to see a stricken look on Martha's face. Jane had taken her hand and Alice was white as a sheet.

"What is your husband's name?" Martha whispered, looking at her with pleading eyes.

"Hugh Jordon," Amelia replied.

"Oh, God." Covering her face with her hand, Martha started to rise from the table, but Amelia pulled her back down onto her seat. "Martha, what's wrong?" she asked, as a sick feeling began in her stomach.

"Do you suppose there are two Hugh Jordons in Seattle?" Martha asked, realizing Amelia truly had no idea what was taking place.

"No, I highly doubt that," Amelia replied, softly.

"I didn't think so."

"Martha, please, somebody explain what this is about," she pleaded, looking from one face to the other. Delia just shrugged her shoulders and went back to building shapes with her peas.

"I think you'd better show her the letter," Jane said, patting Martha's shoulder.

Martha nodded solemnly and pulled a well-read letter from the pocket of her dress. Handing it to Amelia she waited, her hands folded on the table, her meal long forgotten.

Taking the letter, Amelia read it quickly and then read it again as her complexion went from pasty white to angry red.

"This cannot be," she insisted. "This simply cannot be happening." Collapsing back in her chair, she stared off into space in shock. Suddenly the women were consoling her.