The Offer (Baron 2)

She hurt deep inside. He kept moving, kissing her mouth, her breasts, fondling every part of her he could reach. She was skinny. Why would he want to do that?

When he moaned his release, she braced herself for the torrent of stiffening muscles, the tightening of his body against hers, the wet of him inside her. Finally it was over.

“I will sleep now, Sabrina. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry about what?”

He laughed. “I swear to you that I’ll teach you soon enough. You’re just not ready yet to be a woman, but you will.”

His light snoring was real this time. Slowly she pulled away from him and rose. She washed herself in the basin of water on the bedside table. In the dim light of the single candle, she saw that there was blood and his seed on the cloth.

This was what everyone had believed she’d done. It was amazing. She rinsed out the cloth as best she could, then climbed back into bed beside her husband. She leaned up and blew out the candle.

She fell asleep with the pounding of his heart beneath her hand and the sound of his snoring in her ear.

Dawn light softened the blackness when she felt him again inside her, moving slowly, deeply. She hurt, but he was her husband. She loved him and if he wanted to do this a dozen times to her, then she’d not argue. Well, maybe she’d say something about it on the eighth time, but not yet. He was only to three. She could still bear it. She kissed him back, taking his moans into her mouth, and stroking her hands over his back. It wasn’t long before she felt the stiffening in him, heard the sharp intake of breath, then his yell of release.

Yet again he was instantly asleep. Yet again she was washing herself in the basin, wondering what woman would ever agree to do this unless she was married and had to. Or unless she loved a man and wanted desperately to please him.

Sabrina supposed she fell into both categories.

At least now he was hers. She would let him do this whenever he wished to. He wouldn’t have the time or the energy to go back to Martine. She fell asleep wondering if men wanted to do this during the day. If so, she would have to be close to him so he could use her whenever he wanted to. She thought of him touching her down there, kissing her down there. She shuddered with embarrassment. What if he wanted to do that during the day, when he could see her?

34

“My secretary, Paul Blackador, has many times told me that the devil was in the details. What do you think, Sabrina?”

“I don’t know what that means.” It was a bright winter morning, sun flooding into the br

eakfast room. He was smiling and eating and talking nonsense. Sabrina was tired and very sore, but she loved him, curse him for not asking her how she felt. He’d been the one to hurt her yet now all he could talk about was the devil and his damned details.

Couldn’t he at least tell her that he was just a bit fond of her?

“It means that if a man isn’t careful, it’s the little things, the details, that will rise up and bite him. Do him in.”

“I still don’t know in what direction your mind is going.”

“It’s really very simple. I don’t want you to love me, Sabrina.” He was chewing a piece of bacon as he said that. She wasn’t worth enough for him to even stop eating for a moment.

“I really can’t help it.”

“You said last night you realized it at Moreland when you woke up and I was sitting there watching you. I’m sorry for it. Don’t get me wrong. I’m fond of you, very fond, but things won’t change.” He thought of his hands on her soft flesh. She’d felt to him like no other woman had in his life. And being inside her, the smallness of her, the tightening of her muscles, no, he wouldn’t think about that. It was just sex. He looked at her. He realized he wanted to touch all of her, all at the same time, right now. He closed his eyes a moment.

“What things?”

He merely shrugged. “I enjoyed last night. Thank you for coming to me. I hope you’re not too sore this morning?” He remembered how difficult it was to come into her. She’d been so small, her flesh so resistant to him, all his fault, of course. He should have taken more time, been more patient. Damn the surfeit of brandy and his own lust.

“Yes, I am. I had no idea that men did those sorts of things so much.”

His eyes nearly crossed. Actually, he wanted to toss his breakfast plate to the floor, pull her up against him, and lay her onto her back on the table. He wanted to push her this morning, push her to pleasure, teach her. He wanted to hear her yell, and not in pain.

But he wasn’t about to accept this girl’s love offering. “Men like to do all sorts of things. Women do too.”

She said absolutely nothing.

“You’ll believe me soon enough. Now, get rid of this little girl’s infatuation. That’s all it is, you know. I’m your hero and thus you feel that you must love me. It’s the stuff of novels, Sabrina, not real life.” He tossed down his napkin and rose.

He stopped beside her chair, leaned down, and lightly kissed her mouth. “You’re lovely, Sabrina. I very much enjoyed you last night; well, at least a bit since I’m a man and can enjoy a woman even if she’s as still as a fallen tree. That will change, I promise you. Yes, you and I will do very well together, each in our own way.” Then he was gone from the breakfast room, whistling.