His warm skin, the manly scent of him, the weight of his body leaning into hers, felt good. He held her firmly, essentially trapping her in his embrace. She felt him grow hard below the waist, a ridge of iron pressing against her backside. So strong and wanting all at once. Marianne understood that Darius desired her, but for some reason, also apparently needed her. He needed her to be soft and submissive. And obedient. He needed her to be the soft dais upon which he could find some comfort. If she thought about it too much, it worried her, so she didn’t. She turned the idea away. What if she let him down? Just like—
“Do you feel me?”
“Y…yes.”
Oh, yes, I feel you.
“It’s all because of you, Marianne. You do that to me. I get so hard for you, wanting you.” He swept his lips up her neck. “Push back against me. Press your body to mine. You want to!” Pulling her more firmly against him, he ground upward, slowly rocking his erection into her, all the while caressing her neck with his lips. “You make me happy, Marianne. So s
weet, you smell like violets. Next to me like this, you are perfection.”
She let the sensations float her. Wrapped in Darius’s protective embrace, well-being enfolded her. The staff pressing on her felt huge. Marianne was aware of the basic mechanics. She’d heard the stories and had friends who were already married. Darius would put that huge, hard piece of flesh into her. Would it hurt? It was said to hurt the first time. Would it bring pleasure? The sly comments and giggles of her married friends suggested it might. She knew it brought pleasure for the man and was the only way to start a child growing. That men liked to do it often. That’s what she’d been told by her friends at least.
Right now, the kissing and stroking of his tongue upon her neck gave her pleasure. Still, she was curious and wanted to know more. Darius did that to her. Made her willing to do things she had never dreamed of doing. She would have done anything he asked her to do in this moment. Marianne could not ever remember feeling so cherished.
“Your gift.” He turned her and pulled out a box from his pocket. She opened the jeweler’s box to see a matched string of pearls, bearing a glowing crucifix pendant with a diamond center.
She snapped her face up to meet his. “Oh, Darius. It is so, so beautiful. I love it. A great many gifts you are giving to me. Such a generous man you are.”
He was a great mystery to be solved. Why did he care so much, or at least treat her so? She didn’t deserve all he was giving to her.
“You will wear it for me, Marianne.”
“I want to wear it for you, Darius.”
Chapter Six
His note arrived in the morning.
My beautiful Marianne,
I will send the carriage to collect you today at one o’clock. Wear your new riding outfit—the blue one. I have a surprise and await you eagerly.
D. R.
He greeted her with a kiss to her forehead and then pulled back to peruse her from head to toe.
“The color suits you, Marianne. You wear that blue very well.”
“I haven’t ridden in over a year.”
“I’m sure it will all come back to you. Riding skill is not something one forgets. I just know you’ll be splendid, but I am more than happy to help you if you need it.” He seemed excited, smiling like a boy awaiting a treat, she thought.
She cried out when she saw her “surprise.” The lovely gray horse standing in the stall was her own, Tempest. Or, at least she had been Marianne’s horse before financial ruin had forced her sale. “Tempest?” Marianne petted her neck and leaned forward. “I can hardly believe she’s real.”
“For you, Marianne. She is yours once more.”
Marianne whirled around to face him. “Darius? How did you know?” Her throat tight, she could hardly speak.
“Your father told me she had been sold to the Hallborough estate. The owner is a good friend and was happy to let her go. I bought her back is all.” Darius looked at her questioningly. “Shall we ride?”
They traversed inland, skirting over stones and grass until they reached a copse of trees. Darius announced it was a good place to stop and rest the horses. His strong arms reached for her and brought her down to stand on firm ground. He did not release her, but looked into her eyes. “What is bothering you?”
“Nothing,” she said stiffly, knowing her answer would not be satisfactory to Darius. He would demand an explanation from her now. And she knew she would give it to him.
“Yes, there is something. You are melancholy, I can see it clear as day. Tell me.” He rephrased it for her. “You want to tell me, Marianne.”
Feeling a wash of relief fold over her, she lowered her gaze and whispered, “I–I don’t deserve all of this.” She shifted her eyes to rest upon Tempest. “It is too much, Darius. It makes me uncomfortable. I don’t—”