The Patriot Bride (13 page)

It was the angry thought of her with someone else that helped him let her absorb himself into her all the way, until her lips met the top of the fist that had been holding him fast for her explorations.

Hannah found that the rough hair there reached out and tickled her nose, and so she began her ascent almost immediately, and was both surprised and annoyed when she reached the top of him only to have him put his hands on the back of her head and essentially force her to do the same thing again – only at a much quicker pace. He showed her a rhythm, of up and down motions and then let her continue on her own, offering very guttural verbal encouragement about pace until he couldn’t speak coherently any longer.

Hannah was amazed to see him bucking and writhing beneath her own touch and mouth, then saw his fists crumble the bottom sheet, his knuckles going bright red as his hips drove him in and out of her mouth without and effort from her, his other hand coming to hold the back of her head so that she had to conform to his almost overwhelming thrusts. But they ended quickly, and she felt something spurting against the roof of her mouth, which she swallowed automatically without thinking about it, because if she did think too much about what he’d done in her mouth, she knew her stomach was very likely to rebel.

He was still groaning and convulsing long seconds later, then, finally, his hold at the back of her head loosened and his hand fell to the bed beside her. Hannah was grateful for the opportunity to straighten up, which she did immediately, turning away from him to sit on the edge of the bed, contemplating where in Hell she was likely to end up for having done such a thing.

The worse thing for her, though, was that he was nowhere near through with her yet.

As she sat there, contemplating her stay in purgatory, she felt steely fingers wrapping around her wrist. “I hope you don’t think you’re going anywhere.”

“Just to the chamber pot,” she lied on the spur of the moment. Even though it was only behind a small screen, at least it would afford her some small modicum of privacy in which to castigate herself.

The fingers released. “All right,” he said almost grudgingly.

Hannah did her business, even though she really hadn’t needed to, but then she remained there, behind the screen, hoping he would fall back to sleep and she could cry quietly to herself.

But it was not to be.

Seconds later, she heard a harsh whisper. “Come back to bed, wife. Now.”

She dared to heave a sigh of exasperation, and took her time coming back to the bed. He was waiting for her, opening the covers he’d slid under in invitation. Hannah reluctantly took her place next to him in the bed, but kept as far away from him as she could, until he tsked at her like a disappointed school master and looped an arm around her waist to haul her up against his side, saying, “Now it’s your turn.”

Hannah’s brow furrowed, wondering what he meant, but she soon found out when he scrunched himself down so that his head was level with her hips, then took her nearest leg and hooked it over his shoulders. Shades of that awful position he’d put her in when he’d first taken her – where she was completely at his mercy as he pinned her over and over with that awful weapon of his – ran through her mind, and she started to fight him, but he merely caught her eye and put his hand on her ever bare bottom in reminder, and she had to settle down, tears of anger and frustration coursing down her cheeks unbidden. She didn’t want to cry all the time as she seemed to around him. But the things he did and said inspired it in her.

She had thought – hoped – that his wonderful care while she’d been sick might have herald a new era for him, where he’d stop treating her as if he owned her and ordering her around like a servant. Perhaps, if that had happened, she might have been able to at least tolerate him, at least until she could find her way clear of him and back to the colonies.

But that wasn’t to be. He was as autocratic and domineering as he’d always been – worse, even. At least before he hadn’t been violating her in quite such atrocious ways. She wonder what she’d done, or what had happened that had inspired this night of debauchery, but then chalked it up to the vagaries of men.

He continually managed to amaze her with the things he expected her to do, and the things he demanded of her. What he was doing with his face between her legs, she didn’t really want to contemplate, but she knew she detested this position. Why, in this candlelight he could probably see every inch of a part of her she’d never seen herself – and never wanted to, either.

“C-could we douse the light, please?” she asked, hating her tentative tone.

He replied very matter of factly. “No. I like looking at you, Hannah, and you’d best get comfortable with it, because I’m going to do a lot more than look, and I’m going to do it any time, any where I want.”

With that alarming statement, he leaned forwards a bit, using the fingers of one hand to spread her down there, then covering her most sensitive spot with his hot, wet mouth.

Chapter Nine

Hannah’s whole body contracted immediately beneath the assault of his lips and tongue. She felt faint, and wished she could give into it, but she’d never fainted in her life and it just wouldn’t come. She wasn’t to be given the sanctuary of unconsciousness. Instead, he proceeded to prove to her that he knew her body better than she did, and that he could wrestle control of it away from her at will. She was quickly reduced to begging with him not to do this, but he merely lifted his head and chuckled, low and deep in his chest. She could feel the reverberations through the bed and beneath her bottom.

“Oh, I’m going to do this and more to you every single day we’re together, and before you know it, your drawers are going to become soaking wet when I give you a look across a crowded ball room. You’ll know from that look that when I get you alone in our bed, that I’m going to do this to you. I’m going to do things to you that you can’t even imagine, and your body is going to love them.”

Hannah panicked at his words. She couldn’t do this for a lifetime. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She tried to sit up, putting her hand out as if to push him away from his all too blissful pursuit. But he caught it and its twin expertly, holding them both down into the mattress while he returned to claim her again in that sinful way.

She couldn’t get away from the pleasure. He had her hands locked at her hips, her legs over his broad shoulders. She was spread for his pleasure, but he pleased that she be the one to fly apart from his attentions, and there was nothing she could do about it. Her body was only too willing to submit to his demands, and it was unspeakably humiliating that he could reduce her to a quivering mass in a matter of a few flicks of his tongue, but that was the truth of it. She was low, and loose, and not the lady she’d thought herself to bed, and he brought that out in her with practiced ease.

Hannah fought it as best she could, but he easily overcame her weak defenses. When he knew he had her totally involved in what he was doing, when she was no longer trying to writhe away from him, but rather was arching her hips into his mouth, presenting herself to him in an entirely unconscious manner, he knew he could free her a bit, and let go of her left, weaker arm so that he could bring his crossed fingers down to her delicate opening and corkscrew them into her very slowly.

“There now,” he pseudo-soothed. “Doesn’t it feel better to be filled? To be full of me, any part of me at all?”

She didn’t want to, but she had to whimper a soft, breathy, “Yes.”

“That’s it,” he encouraged, pumping his fingers into and out of her smoothly and slowly. There was no hurry. He adored worshiping a woman like this, and he was in no hurry to offer her a release, although he didn’t think she was very far from it.

And he was right.

Seconds later, when he pushed those big fingers into her a bit harder than he had been, when his tongue rested flat against that pleasured bump of hers, moving very slowly back and forth and pressing hard, she took him by surprise and screamed again, in a manner that an uneducated person might think meant that she was in terrible pain, and yet she was experiencing the ultimate in ecstasy, writhing and bucking and riding his fingers as if her life depended on it.

If Wolf hadn’t already decided to keep her, her reactions to him in their marriage bed would have easily cinched it. Her large dowry had certainly sweetened the deal, but this was the real reward for giving her his name and his protection. He would have preferred this to anything else, damn the waning family fortunes. He played a hunch and drove her to a second and third culmination, glorying in her responsiveness. He could just as easily have been married to a frigid bitch instead of this fresh faced wonder. He must have done something wonderful to deserve such a reward, but he certainly couldn’t think of what it might have been.

Hannah, though, was mortified by the very thing that her husband seemed to revel in. She couldn’t believe how completely her body betrayed her, every single time he touched her. And he was a man of his word. They barely left the cabin for the remainder of the voyage. The nice card games they’d played were a thing of the past. They never joined Gabriel for dinner, and rarely went topside. He practically kept her chained to the bed, and he did keep her naked the majority of the time, so that he could get to her more easily.

Wolf did occasionally leave the cabin, and even when he wasn’t going to be there, he refused to let her dress. She hated not knowing if someone was going to knock at the door and she was going to have to make up some excuse while standing completely nude on the other side of the door. It made her feel so vulnerable – too vulnerable, but more so to him than anyone else.

When he came back from those excursions, he inevitably stripped and attacked her as if he’d been without a woman for months rather than minutes. He had only given her a day or so to recover from his breech of her virginity, and then he was at her – constantly and everlastingly.

And creatively. Hannah had never wanted to know that there were so many different ways for a man and a woman to couple. A proper lady didn’t know such things, anyway, but having found her own physical relationship with her husband, she did have to admit that she thought of others differently. She certainly couldn’t think that her parents had done anything even somewhat resembling what Wolf subjected her to. And her married friends? And Mistress Wentworth? The mere thought made her shiver.

The more he got at her, the more Hannah withdrew into herself, becoming more and more depressed, and more and more desperate to get away from her husband. She barely ate, despite the fact that he had the cook making as elaborate and tasty dinners for them as he possibly could.

Wolf knew that she wasn’t doing very well but he couldn’t find it in himself to blame his carnal appetites, despite the fact that logically he must’ve known it was the fact that he felt the need to keep her so much to himself – barely able to tolerate the idea of another man looking at her – that had made her start looking so frail, and eating so little.

Finally, when they were about a week away from landfall, he came to his senses, realizing that if he didn’t do something drastic she was literally going to waste away before his eyes. So he brought her topside and guided her around the deck. She was leaning on his arm and looking particularly fetching, if heartbreakingly pale.

The walk seemed to do her some good – or maybe it was just her imagination. Despite her weak protests, he invited Gabe and the corporal to play cards with them again, as they had at the beginning of the voyage. Wolf didn’t understand why she didn’t want to see them, but he did hate the fact that she was sitting listlessly on the bed and gave up the fight almost immediately.

That wasn’t at all like his Hannah. She should be going toe to toe with him, practically calling him out to a duel and getting herself a good spanking before finally acquiescing. This new demeanor tugged at his heart and made him frankly fear for her health, both mental and physical.

When Gabe blew into the room, she nearly cringed away from him when he dropped to one knee and kissed her hand, as if she didn’t want him to see her. The corporal didn’t say anything at all, but Wolf could tell that both men were startled at the drastic change in her.

They didn’t play for long, and the corporal and the Captain won nearly every hand, which was very unusual. They were generally very evenly matched, which was part of what made the gatherings so much fun. The winner was always in doubt.

When it broke up, Gabe confronted Wolf, saying in his command tone, “Meet me in my quarters.”

It was in Wolf’s mind to buck such an order – after all, who was Gabe to be ordering him about? But he gritted his teeth and made his excuses to his wife, who had already laid down on the bed as if she was exhausted by the effort of sitting at the table and playing cards.

Once he was inside Gabe’s cabin, the other man tore into him. “What the hell have you been doing to her, man? She’d recovered from the mal de mer, but she looks worse now than she did then.” But when Wolf tried to speak, he put his hand up. “Don’t answer that. The entire ship knows what you’ve been doing to her – the screams have been hard to miss. But, my God, man, you’re not a rutting stag. You’re over thirty years old. Give the woman some room to breathe. We’ve barely seen hide nor hair of her. I’ve been thinking of having cook put some salt Peter in your food. You’re at her constantly. Did someone slip you some oysters or something?”

Wolf grimaced. “No. But I had to wait to make sure she hadn’t - ” He didn’t want to make Gabe question Hannah’s reputation, but he did want him to understand why he’d been so greedy about his wife lately. “She ran away. She’s been unchaperoned for nearly a year . . . ” He let the sentence die a natural death and lifted his eyebrow at his friend, who could be a little slow at times.

“Oh.” Wolf could see Gabe thinking. “Oh. You were worried about her virtue.” He hadn’t thought about that.