Midnight Star (Star Quartet 2)

“This bed is so small,” Chauncey gasped, feeling the heat from his body even though he wasn’t touching her.

Delaney smiled ruefully. He wasn’t a randy young boy, but his control was sorely tried. And his bride was very nervous. Well, he decided, ignorance definitely wasn’t bliss, particularly in the marriage bed. He said slowly, “Chauncey, the size of the bed isn’t at all important at this moment. I’m going to make love to you now. Just relax and trust me. All right?”

She nodded, swallowing convulsively. Make love! What an odd thing to say. His lowering head blocked out the light from the single lamp. She felt his mouth caressing hers, felt his hand stroking down her body, learning every inch of her. “Damned thing,” he muttered, and rose to a sitting position. “Enough of this nonsense.”

She wanted to protest, but instead tightly closed her mouth. In but a moment she felt the cool air touching her flesh, saw him toss the nightgown to the floor. Her hands went instinctively to cover her breasts.

Delaney said nothing, merely turned and shrugged out of his dressing gown. When he looked back at Chauncey, he saw that her eyes were tightly closed. He pressed his body against her side, balancing himself on an elbow above her.

He drew in his breath at her beauty. “Lord,” he muttered softly.

“Lord?” Her eyes flew open. “You are praying?”

“No, I am admiring you. You are lovely. No, don’t try to hide yourself from me. I’m your husband, remember?”

He laid his hand on neutral territory at her waist. “Shall I tell you what I’m seeing?”

He didn’t await a reply. “Your incredible eyes are the color of my waxed mahogany desk, and in this dim light your hair is like rippling waves of thick reddish, brownish, blondish—”

She giggled. “It is a stupid color, and you are running out of ‘ishes’!”

Her mirth died in her throat when his gaze shifted suddenly downward, and she gasped slightly, her hands fisting.

“Your breasts, my dear, are your high point, so to speak. I wonder if your nipples taste pink?” He lowered his head and gently circled a nipple, then took it into his mouth.

Chauncey lurched upward. “Oh no! Please, Delaney, you mustn’t. You can’t—”

“Hush,” he whispered, his warm breath making her shudder. “You mustn’t interrupt my study.” His tongue lapped and her nipple throbbed. He raised his head and looked into her dazed, very bewildered eyes. “I think you like that. There is much more, love. No, don’t pull away. Forget any foolishness you’ve heard about lovemaking from prune-faced old biddies, and let your body react naturally.”

His eyes returned to their study. “Now, as for your ribs, they’re colorful still. The dull purple is most enchanting.” Lightly his fingertips outlined her ribs. “A bit skinny, but I’m not complaining, mind you. You don’t strain my back when I’m carrying you.” He realized that his voice w

as shaking a bit and closed his eyes a moment, drawing on a fast-disappearing control.

“I can feel the length of you against me,” Chauncey said, and Delaney trembled. “You feel very hard and hairy.” Just the sound of her voice, not to mention the words, shook him terribly.

“You can explore me later,” he managed. He laid his hand on her belly. “So white, like the snow in the Sierras before men’s boots tromp over it.” Lord, you fool, that was about as seductive as an emetic! “Do you know, Chauncey, what lies beneath this soft thatch of hair?”

“Please,” she gasped, so embarrassed that she tried to jerk away from him. She drew suddenly still, for his fingers were gently probing through the soft tangle of curls, touching her wetness. She sucked in a shuddering breath. “This is awful,” she said, more to herself than to him.

He stroked her swollen flesh, reveling in the softness. “Ah, love,” he whispered, lowering his head, “it is a wonderful awfulness, for both of us.” He kissed her deeply, forcing her lips to part as his fingers rhythmically stroked her. He felt her hips move briefly against his fingers, then still. Damned repressive way girls were raised, he thought, frustrated. He knew he couldn’t wait much longer. Surely she could feel him pressing painfully against her thigh, throbbing and hungry for her.

His fingers left her a moment, and he was delighted to hear her moan of disappointment—at least he chose to think it disappointment. He circled her small entrance, and could feel her flesh pulsating, warm and inviting. Slowly he inserted his forefinger, testing her, stretching her to ease his way.

“Delaney!” she burst out, lurching up and trying to expel his probing finger. “I cannot believe that you would . . . No, ’tis impossible!”

He knew he should begin again, ease her, make her relax and want him once more, but he feared he would release his seed before he entered her. “Hush,” he ground out. He pressed her back and rolled over on top of her. He balanced himself on his elbows and looked down into her wild eyes. “Feel me, Chauncey. I want you. Just close down that active mind of yours and let yourself respond.”

“Oh no,” she whispered, feeling his hardness pressing against her closed thighs.

He began to move slowly over her. The feel of her soft breasts against his chest drove him distracted. “Chauncey,” he said, his voice breaking on a moan, “I cannot wait, love.”

She felt his knee forcing her legs apart, and she gazed up at him helplessly, now frightened. Every warm, delightful intriguing sensation fled. She lay stiffly as he reared between her legs. He was looking at her, seeing her body in intimate detail. She raised her hands and pressed them against his shoulders, trying to push him away.

Delaney gazed at her delicate pink beauty. Better just to get it over with before he lost all control. He slowly guided his manhood into her, feeling her tense, stiffen. I will not hurt her, he thought silently. I will not hurt her. But in the next moment, he butted against her maidenhead. He cursed silently. With all her damned horseback riding, he’d hoped she would have lost that commodity. Now that he was buried firmly inside her, he stretched on top of her, careful to go no deeper until she relaxed somewhat.

“You are driving me wild,” he said, unable to relax himself. “Chauncey, open your eyes, love. Now, kiss me.” His mouth closed over hers, his tongue lightly probing to meet hers. At the moment of contact, he thrust forward, tearing through the thin barrier and hurtling into the depths of her. He caught her cry of pain in his mouth. Even though her fingernails dug into his shoulders, he could not prevent himself from driving into her, claiming her, becoming part of her.

Tears blurred her eyes, and pain from deep inside her made her whimper. She felt utterly helpless, betrayed somehow, for he had promised her that he wouldn’t hurt her. Slowly, to her utter surprise, the sharp pain disappeared and the elusive warmth began to build within her once again. Her arms, of their own volition, hugged him to her, and her back arched upward.