His Forbidden Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch (Spicy Version) Book 7) (8 page)

“Solomon,” she urged him, not knowing how else to tell him what she wanted.

He replied with a deep hum that only made the longing worse. His hands shifted to the hooks of her corset, and blessedly, he made quick work of it. She arched so he could tug it out from under her and throw it aside. Then he grabbed the hem of her chemise and lifted it over her head with quick, hungry movements.

It felt glorious to be exposed to him, more so when he shamelessly raked his hands up from her stomach to cup her breasts. She should have been shocked to have him fondle her that way, his thumbs rubbing across her taut nipples, his touch possessive, but, in fact, she wanted more. Without words to say as much, all she could do was mewl with pleasure.

She got her ‘more’ when he adjusted his stance over her so that he could bring his mouth down to suckle her. The sudden sensation of her breast being enveloped in sweet, liquid heat as he laved his tongue across her nipple had her crying out for release. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, wondering how she was going to maintain her sanity.

“I can’t,” he groaned at last, shifting again to bring his eyes level with hers. For one horrified moment, Honoria could only gape at him. “I can’t draw this out,” he went on, breathing heavily. “I want so much to pleasure you until you’re giddy, but I’m about to burst.”

She didn’t entirely understand what he was saying, but it excited her beyond reason all the same.

“We’ll have so much more time,” he promised, his hands venturing down to find the drawstring of her drawers, the last piece in the puzzle of undressing. “I promise you, I’ll make it all up to you over and over again.”

The only thing she could manage to say was, “Yes,” as he loosened her drawers and drew them down her legs. That final gesture left her completely naked and on fire. She was already primed to part her legs as he raked his hands up along her calves and thighs, drinking in the sight of her the same way she’d feasted on the sight of him. And she loved every moment of his scrutiny.

He had one more surprise in store for her. Tugging off her drawers had shifted him lower, and as his hands traced their way up over her thighs, his mouth followed. He kissed first the inside of one thigh, then the other, then back again, bringing his mouth higher as he nudged her legs further apart. She was beyond breathless by the time he reached the top of her thighs with both his hands and mouth. She’d opened her hips as far as they could go, her knees falling to the side. The only warning she had of what he was about to do came as his fingers gently parted her most intimate folds. Then he brought his mouth down on the most sensitive part of her.

The result was as powerful as thunder. The moment his tongue grazed the bulb of pleasure that had been growing increasingly sensitive, she nearly shouted with pleasure. One tiny spot, and it had her aflame with need. That need was met in spectacular fashion as he licked and swirled and sucked. In mere moments, her body exploded with light and hunger, the vibrations reaching so deep that she thought she would die right that moment. It would have been worth it.

He surprised her again by adjusting on top of her as she was still lost in the throes of orgasm, then crashing into her. Bonnie had warned of a moment of pain, but if there was one, she was too far gone with ecstasy to feel it. The sensation of being filled and stretched and possessed was beyond anything she could comprehend and so good that she wanted to weep.

And it still didn’t stop there. As her own tremors slowed, she could feel Solomon’s thrusts more fully. They were magnificent, pure, and carnal. He had already lost himself in the passion between them and thrust with wild abandon. Again, a tiny voice whispered that she should probably be frightened of his fierce intensity, but she absolutely adored every hard, pounding thrust. She adored the uncontrolled sounds of pleasure he made as he took her. The bed banged hard against the wall in time to his thrusts, and creaked so loudly she thought it might break, and she loved every minute of it. She clamped her arms around him, digging her nails into his back, and came close to laughing with the abandonment of it all.

At last, Solomon tensed and cried out. The sound was so perfect that she cried out with him, and when he collapsed, utterly spent, on top of her, she wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly. In a moment, the dynamic between them had shifted, and now she was the one who needed to provide comfort and affection and a safe place to land. He’d given all of himself to her—whether he’d intended to or not—and she held that close to her heart like a precious gem. This man who lay exhausted in her arms had given her so much, but now she understood that she had much to give him in return.

H
onoria stretched
and smiled with morning’s first light. Her first dawn as a wife. She drew in a deep breath and curled against Solomon’s side. Her husband was still fast asleep, and as far as she was concerned, he deserved every moment of rest he could find. They’d only slept intermittently through the night anyhow, napping off and on between long, delicious bouts of love-making. That first, explosive time had been a revelation. The other two times had been slow, sensual elaborations of all the ways that touch could ignite the soul.

Without a doubt, she had made the best decision of her life in asking Solomon to marry her and in holding fast to her desire to have a real marriage in whatever time they had.

With her head snuggled against Solomon’s shoulder, she closed her eyes and attempted to drift off again, but now that she was awake, excitement buzzed through her. She opened her eyes and trailed her fingertips across the firm muscles of her husband’s chest. He was such a contrast to her—hard where she was soft, powerful where she was compliant. She loved the differences between them, but what she loved more was the deep-seated feeling that they were alike in all the ways that really mattered.

Her gentle exploration of his chest and stomach eventually drew Solomon out of sleep. His steady breathing hitched and he let out a low rumble of pleasure.

“This is one fine way to greet the new day,” he said, turning his head to hers.

Honoria giggled. Heavens, since when had she become the sort to
giggle
? “I agree.” She surged forward to lightly kiss his lips, keeping her hand spread flat against his lower abdomen. She wanted so badly to inch her hand lower still to bring that part of him that she instantly cherished alive once more.

He must have felt her desire. With one swift movement, he rolled her to her back, fitting himself between her legs. As badly as she wanted to give herself over to him again, the pointed soreness that his movement caused had her wincing before she could stop herself.

Lucky for her, Solomon chuckled. “I should know better.” He bent down to kiss her lingeringly. “I should have known better than to lose my head the way I did last night.”

“Oh, no,” she was quick to correct him. “It was wonderful.” To prove it, she sighed and wriggled against him.

Solomon caught his breath. She could feel him stiffening by the moment between her thighs. “You are a temptress, aren’t you?” His eyes were full of humor and hunger.

She laughed. “I never would have thought so, but you make me wild.”

His entire expression heated to something so arousing that Honoria was ready to forget her soreness just to feel him as one with her again.

Instead, Solomon kissed her quickly, then lurched back, climbing out of bed. Honoria caught one, tantalizing glimpse of his erection before he turned away, heading to his wardrobe.

“I could hurt you if we’re not careful,” he said with a laugh, although Honoria heard far more seriousness in the statement.

She stretched and flexed her sore muscles, loving the sudden rush of cool air against her heated skin. “I don’t know that I’d mind at this point.”

“Maybe not at this point, but you would when you found yourself trying to do simple household tasks.” He selected a suit from the wardrobe then turned back to the bed. His eyes lit with fire as he drank in the sight of her naked and spread across the sheets. Then he laughed and shook his head. “You are too much temptation for this weak man to handle, Honoria Templesmith.”

She laughed, then twisted to her side and reluctantly crawled out of bed. He was right about one thing, though. The more she moved and went through basic tasks of washing and dressing for the day, the more she noticed the sweet soreness that their wedding night had left her with. It wasn’t the same sort of annoyance as stubbing her toe or burning her hand on a stove. It was a delicious reminder of how exuberantly she and her new husband had gotten to know each other in the night.

“I actually do know how to make breakfast,” she said later, when the two of them finally made their way downstairs to the kitchen.

“Do you?” Solomon asked with a smile as he went to the pantry and came out with a tin of already-ground coffee.

“Yes, it was easier to sneak down to the kitchens to help Maria in the morning, before anyone else was up,” she explained. There was already a pan for frying bacon and scrambling eggs on the counter from their meal the night before, so she took it to the stove—which Solomon was already adding more wood to—then went in search of eggs and the rest of the bacon. “I can do pancakes as well, and I even learned how to make muffins and scones.”

It seemed silly to brag about something so common, but Solomon grinned and looked impressed all the same.

They worked together to fix a hearty breakfast. By the time they were seated at the kitchen table with bacon, eggs, toast, coffee, and ideas for far more elaborate breakfasts in the days to come, Honoria was certain that she’d never been happier in her life. Even if sitting was slightly uncomfortable.

“If I could close up the bank and spend the day with you today, I would,” Solomon told her as he speared his last bit of eggs.

“Don’t you own the bank?” she asked. “You could set your own hours.”

“I could.” He nodded, the businesslike expression that made him look even more authoritative coming over him. “But banks are an institution that require a great deal of trust in order to be successful. Perhaps more than anything, a person’s money is their life, or at least a crucial part in it. They entrust that bit of their life to me, so it is my duty to both safeguard it and to give the appearance of absolute confidence. That includes making sure the bank maintains regular hours.”

“That’s very noble of you.” Honoria sat straighter. “I’m not sure every banker out there feels the same way.”

Solomon shrugged. “It’s true. Some men enter banking to make their own fortunes.”

“Why did you become a banker?”

A wistful smile pulled at his handsome face. “Because Howard Haskell asked me to.”

“Oh?” She blinked. “I didn’t realize you knew Howard before you came to Haskell.”

“I did, but how we met is a story for another day. The short version is that he knew my background and my capabilities, saw that I was good with money, and sold me on the idea of providing financial services to the new town he was building out West.”

Honoria grinned and shook her head. “I’ve heard so many stories of people who Howard asked to move here specifically so that he could grow his own little Utopia in the high plains. It’s a wonder my father ever settled here at all.”

“Why did he?”

Honoria shrugged. “Business. He saw that there wasn’t much ranching competition and set up his enterprise. It’s not that interesting of a story.”

“Even so, I’ll have to get you to tell me all of it someday.” The edges of Solomon’s smile faltered as soon as he finished speaking. The same, terrible sadness came to his eyes that had been there every time they talked about time and the future.

The last thing Honoria wanted her new husband to think about the day after their wedding was how short their marriage would be. She stood, forcing a smile, and reached for his plate. “You’d better hurry up and get ready for work, Mr. Templesmith. We don’t want your loyal customers to lose confidence in you.”

She whisked the plates off to the sink. Solomon stood and followed her. As Honoria reached to work the pump, Solomon closed in on her from behind. His hands caressed her hips, and he bent down to nuzzle the sensitive flesh of her neck. Flutters of longing danced through her at the intimate contact.

“I only care that you have confidence in me, Mrs. Templesmith,” he murmured against her ear.

She drew in a deep breath, letting the scent of him fill her lungs. Strange, but she hadn’t had a single coughing fit or any tickly hints of one since walking into his house as his bride.

“I do,” she said in echo of her wedding vows, twisting to settle herself in his arms. “I have complete confidence in you.” It was such a wonderful thing to be able to say, as wonderful as the kiss that followed.

She could have lost herself in kissing him forever, but all too soon, he broke the kiss and straightened. His expression was sunny and casual once more. “And what do you plan to do with yourself on this first day as a married woman?” he asked.

A thrill zipped through Honoria’s heart. “I hadn’t thought about it.” She did now, tilting her head to the side even as she kept her arms circled around his back. “I suppose I should start with decorating your house, since you told me I could.”

He laughed. “That sounds like a fine pursuit. I have credit at every store in town, so feel free to put my financial solubility to the test.”

Her expression brightened. She’d completely forgotten that Solomon was a wealthy man. As quickly as ideas of everything she could do with his money swooped in on her, she reminded herself that now was not the time to turn into one of her sisters.

“I’ll be frugal,” she said. “I’d rather decorate for beauty and function than pure ostentation.”

“Why am I not surprised?” He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose.

The gesture was so sweet and almost silly that she giggled. Yes, giggling was definitely her new favorite pastime.

Solomon straightened, putting on a mock serious face. “Decorating is all well and good, but what do you plan to do once you’re finished? How would you like to spend your time?”

Time. It was the one luxury she most longed for and the only thing she knew she couldn’t have.

She took a deep breath and tried not to give in to the gloom that reared up from the place she’d packed it away. “I think…I think that I would like to spend the rest of my time making beautiful things,” she said, glancing up into his eyes. “To be remembered by.”

The sadness that filled his expression was painful, but he kissed her all the same. “I think that’s a fine ambition,” he said, almost in a whisper. “We can find ways for you to do that.”

At last, he broke away, heading for the table where he’d left his jacket hung over the back of his chair.

“I really should be going.”

Honoria wondered if she’d made him so sad he needed to run. Probably. She rushed over to him, helping him put his jacket on, then straightened it when he turned to her. “Have a lovely day, husband,” she said, suddenly shy.

He lifted a hand to cradle the side of her face, then tilted it up to kiss her. “You too, wife.”

He kissed her one last time, then turned and headed down the hall. Honoria stood and watched him, her heart fluttering like a bird…but like a bird trapped in a cage that knew it couldn’t get out. Marrying Solomon had been an act of self-preservation, but it dawned on her that leaving him would be the hardest thing she’d ever done.

The thought was too heavy, so she turned to set about cleaning up their breakfast. Once everything was washed, dried, stored, and put away, she made a tour of the rest of the house, assessing what needed to be bought or improved on. The list became too long to keep mentally, so she found some paper and a pencil and jotted down notes for each room. Finally, as the morning was well on its way, she set out to see what the stores of Haskell had to offer.

She was barely out the door when the cozy world of her new, married life was breached.

“Honoria! What a delight to see you,” Estelle Tremaine called out to her as soon as Honoria had rounded the corner onto Station Street. Estelle changed direction to meet her in the middle of the road with a fond hug. “We were all so pleased when word got out yesterday that you and Solomon had married.”

“Thank you.” Honoria hardly knew what to do, whether to hug Estelle back. As far as she was concerned, the woman hardly knew her, yet here she was greeting her like a sister.

No, not like a sister. Her experience with sisters was something else entirely.

Estelle held her at arm’s length, beaming as she studied her. “You look beautiful this morning. Married life must agree with you.”

The possibility of having a conversation with a woman from town—a woman who her family did not approve of—made Honoria bold. “It does,” she admitted, instantly feeling her cheeks redden.

Estelle must have known exactly what she meant. Of course she did. She herself had been married to Lt. Tremaine for over ten years, and they had several children together. “Well, I won’t keep you from your errands, but you must come over for tea with me and some friends soon.”

“Tea?” The invitation was as exciting as it was unexpected.

“Yes.” Estelle squeezed her hand. “I’ll talk to Olivia as soon as she’s done with school and we can set a time.”

“That would be lovely.”

Estelle let her go, but as Honoria walked on, she blinked in wonder. She hadn’t done very well for her first conversation with someone she’d admired for years, but Estelle didn’t seem to think so.

She was still running over the brief exchange in her mind, wondering what she could have done to sound like less of a ninny, when another lilting voice shook her out of her thoughts.

“Honoria, congratulations!” This time it was Corva Haskell, the wife of Howard’s son, Franklin, who stopped her as she made the turn onto Main Street. Corva carried her baby boy, Howard Franklin Haskell, on her hip but still moved quickly enough to join Honoria in her walk up Haskell’s central thoroughfare.

“Mrs. Haskell, good morning,” Honoria greeted her, determined to do better at conversing this time.

“It’s so good to see you walking about town freely.” Corva smiled as if she genuinely meant it. But of course she did. Unlike her sisters, when women like Corva gave compliments, they were true and not just masks for later insults or ways to coerce someone into doing something for them. “Are you on your way to the bank to see your husband?” Her eyes danced at the word.

Corva’s high spirits were infectious. “No, I’m on my way to do some shopping. Solomon’s house is spartan at best.”

“I’m certain he picked the perfect woman to decorate it.” Corva winked. “But how you surprised everyone.”

“Surprised them?”