The Sherbrooke Bride - Catherine Coulter [23]
He’d introduced her to sex in a very polished way. She recognized, vaguely, that he was immensely experienced but she was unable to appreciate his finesse. She found the entire procedure horribly embarrassing, and the darkness she’d begged for hadn’t slowed him down a bit. He hadn’t hurt her overly much. As for any pleasure from coupling, she sincerely doubted that such a thing existed. She knew that all she enjoyed was compliments and kissing and his wicked smiles, and perhaps the tip of his tongue lightly touching her ear.
And now he wanted to stick that man-thing of his up into her whilst she sat on his lap, fully gowned yet naked whilst he had his way with her, and all in a moving carriage!
“No,” she said very firmly. “I shan’t do that.”
Tony merely smiled, and thrust his fingers upward until they were pressed against her woman’s flesh. She paled then yowled. His right hand busily worked on the buttons over her breasts. She slapped at him, until finally he said in his sternest voice, “You are my wife. How many times must I remind you, Melissande? I know you received little or no pleasure last night. You were a virgin and that is why. You bled and that pleased me. However, I intend to rectify that now. You will accept pleasure from me. You will hold still and stop playing the outraged maiden.”
But she didn’t stop struggling, even when she felt one of his long fingers slide upward into her. She yelled, and he kissed her, hoping the carriage driver hadn’t heard her.
“A delightful virgin, a beauty, and a spoiled handful,” he said, his breath warm on her mouth. “That’s what I married. I’m not complaining, don’t misunderstand me. I had an excellent idea of your character before I ever nibbled that sweet spot just behind your left ear. But I will beat you, you know.”
“You wouldn’t! No, I shan’t allow such a thing! Stop, damn you! Stop doing that!”
“Oh yes, I will beat you,” he said as his thumb found her flesh and he began to fondle her. “And I have no intention of stopping. You will see that I shall do whatever I wish to with you.” She was undoubtedly beautiful, absolutely exquisite, even with her eyes near to crossing in rage, and truth be told, glazed in utter incomprehension, for she’d never encountered his like before. She tried to jerk away from him. He merely removed his hand, pulled up her gown, her petticoats, and her shift, then bent her back so that she was lying across his lap against his arm. She was wearing her black leather slippers and stockings that were just above her knees, held there with black garters. From there on, she was naked to her waist, and he looked down at her and smiled.
“Very nice,” he said only and splayed his fingers over her white belly. “Very nice indeed. I fancy I’ll keep you. Were you a trout I wouldn’t toss you back into the water. No, indeed.”
“You cannot do this, Tony! My father will challenge you to a duel, he will cut your ears off, he will—I’m not a damned fish!”
“Dearest wife, your father wouldn’t dream of telling me, your legal husband, master, owner, and lord, not to give you pleasure. And that is what I will do if you would simply close your quite lovely mouth and attend my fingers.”
She opened her mouth to yell again at him, then realized the driver would probably hear her. She felt sunk with embarrassment, so mortified she held herself quiet until his fingers began to caress her in that very private place he’d touched the previous night. She hadn’t protested much then for she’d still been feeling wicked, and it was dark in the bedchamber,