The Lover

Chapter

Nine

Sabrina stirred slowly awake, then sharply inhaled with awareness. A warm, nude, and very male body lay beneath hers, the sensual feel of sinewed flesh arousing against her sensitive skin.

Niall. Her husband. Her arms and legs were braided with his, her hair a wild tangle across the breadth of his chest.

Sabrina’s face flushed as disorientation fled and memory came rushing back. This was her marriage bed. And this must still be her wedding night. Dawn evidently had not yet arrived. Shadows wreathed the bridal chamber, the candle flames burning low in their sockets.

Thankfully Niall was asleep. His breathing was deep and easy, his strong body relaxed—may the devil take him.

Her heart thudding, she slowly eased herself from his side. She needed time to regain her composure before she had to face him again.

She felt different, strangely so, Sabrina reflected as she lay there rigidly taking inventory. Her mouth was tender from his kisses, her nipples even more so, while the secret hollow between her thighs throbbed with a twinging ache, almost as though he were still inside her. She could feel him moving within her—

Shying away from the remembrance of what he’d done to her, she carefully slipped from the bed and drew the velvet curtains around him to give herself privacy. After stirring the fire, she hastily washed away the musky scent of their lovemaking which clung to her skin, then dressed in a day gown which had been delivered yesterday to her husband’s home.

Feeling somewhat refreshed and more able to deal with the demands of her current circumstances, Sabrina realized she was famished. When she started to slip from the room in search of food, however, she discovered a tray directly outside the door. Someone had thoughtfully provided wine and a cold collation of meats and cheese and bread. Gratefully, she curled up in a chair before the fire and satisfied the worst of her hunger.

She was lost in reflection when a deeply masculine voice spoke behind her—the same voice she’d heard whispering endearments and bold persuasions in her ear last night.

“’Tis a first, a lass leaving my bed before the night is through.”

Starting, Sabrina glanced back over her shoulder at her husband of a few short hours. Niall had parted the bed-curtains and propped himself on one elbow. He looked dismayingly, sinfully beautiful, lounging there among the tumbled sheets, the covers falling to below his waist, nearly a day’s growth of stubble darkening his jaw. The nakedness of that broad, bronzed, rippling chest made her mouth go dry.

“W-Would you…like something to eat?” she managed to ask.

“Later, sweeting. I have in mind satisfying a different appetite first.”

“What…appetite?”

“Come here, and I will gladly show you.”

Her heart twisted in her chest. Niall seemed so easy and normal, unchanged by having made love to her, while she had been devastated by his tender eroticism. With his invasion of her body, he had laid claim to some secret part of her. But then, he doubtlessly had honed that particular skill. He was a veteran of more beds than he could probably recall.

He flashed her a slow, lazy smile, more brilliant than sunshine. “Come to bed, love.”

“W-Why?”

“Because I want you.” His voice was pleasant, unhurried, rich in timbre. “And because I want to pleasure you.”

He was in an enchanting mood, Sabrina thought, her heart sinking. It was all she could do to resist his potent sexual power, yet she had to try. She had already exposed more of her vulnerability to him than she could bear.

“Do you never think of anything else but lovemaking?” she muttered.

“Occasionally.” The warm blue eyes were amused and beguiling. “The third Tuesday of each month I devote to clan affairs.”

She bit back a smile, cursing the overwhelming urge to run into his arms. “You may cease your efforts to seduce me. Our marriage has been consummated, you might recall.”

“True.” He regarded her with lazy anticipation. “But we have barely begun your education.” His voice held a uniquely seductive rasp. “You delighted me far beyond my expectations last night, but it will take time and practice for you to become proficient.”

“You have enough proficiency for both of us. And I have no desire to repeat the experience.”

“Did you find your initiation too painful?”

“I found it…disappointing,” Sabrina lied. “I cannot comprehend why such fuss is made about so awkward a procedure.”

His eyebrow shot up. “You render me inarticulate.”