Page 39 of Love, Remember Me

"Are you pleased, or displeased, my lord?" she inquired breathlessly. Her heart was hammering with her excitement.

"I am pleased you enjoy my kisses, and are so quickly expert in returning them," he told her, "but I am displeased you have not yet learned to say my name. We are husband and wife, madame, yet you do not speak my name. I love your name, Nyssa. It is Greek, is it not?"

"Aye," she said softly. He was so damned disarming, but disarming men were also dangerous men, she suspected. She did not truly know if he was a villain or merely maligned. Still, he was her husband now, and she frankly enjoyed his kisses.

"My mother named me before I was born," he said. "She told my father if she bore him a son, he should be called Varian, for men, like the wind, are variable creatures. So I was named as she wished me to be."

"Varian," she said low. "I like it, and I think I would have liked her. I am sorry that neither of us knew your mother."

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice intense.

"Varian. Varian. Ohh, Varian!" This last as he moved to unlace her chemise. She caught his hands and held them in her suddenly trembling ones.

"Do not forget," he told her. "I have already seen you naked. I disrobed you myself earlier, Nyssa." He raised her hands to his lips and kissed them. "You are very beautiful, sweetheart." He kissed each knuckle in turn, then clasped one of her hands against his cheek while, turning the other palm up, he pressed a warm kiss upon it.

Another flush suffused her fair skin, and she whispered so softly that he was forced to draw her even closer to hear, "Varian, I do not know what to do. You set my senses to reeling, but I am truly ignorant of lovemaking."

"For now, my sweet," he told her, loosing her hands and slipping her chemise over her shoulders, "you will do nothing but accept the homage of your besotted husband." His dark head dropped and he kissed a shoulder.

His lips were so warm, she thought, as they traveled back and forth across the column of her throat; lingering in the pulsing hollow of her neck; sliding softly to her other silky shoulder. She murmured a tiny half protest as he pushed the chemise down to reveal her young bosom. An arm cradled her while his free hand cupped a firm little breast. The gentle pressure of his hand had the most extraordinary effect upon her. Had it not been for his supporting arm, she believed her legs would not have held her. She watched, wide-eyed, as his thumb slowly rubbed against her nipple and it hardened to a tiny point.

"Varian," she cried low, and when their eyes met, she felt faint with a longing she could not understand.Was this lovemaking? It was but the beginning of lovemaking, she realized, but if this was the beginning, the rest must be too wonderful to even contemplate.Wonderful and terrifying!Another wave of weakness swept over her as he smiled. Then his mouth met hers once again. She let herself get daringly lost in his kisses, almost aching with the pleasure that they gave her.

Her fingers were kneading the back of his neck. He wondered if she realized it. He could not ever remember having been so filled with desire for any woman. She absolutely intoxicated him, yet he did not want to hurry them along the path of Eros. He wanted her very first experience with passion to be perfect, and damn the king for insisting they consummate their union this night. Ideally he would have waited for her to want him as much as he wanted her. Still, they had the night stretching out before them. He would move at as leisurely a pace as he could to ensure that she gained some pleasure her first time.If he did not expire from wanting her so desperately first.

He set her gently back a pace from him, his hands upon her hips, pushing the fabric of her chemise so that it slid with a soft hiss to the floor. With a single, swift motion he drew his nightshirt off and let it join her garment. Lifting her up, he pressed his face into the shadowed valley between her sweet little breasts. He could feel the rapidly beating pulse of her heart beneath his lips. Her eyes were tightly shut, for she dared not look at his naked form. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and her little intake of breath assaulted his ears. Lowering her so that her feet touched the floor, he took her face between his hands once again, kissing her slowly and deeply.

Nyssa found suddenly that she couldn't draw a breath. She pulled away from him, eyes wide and frightened, face pale, whispering desperately, "I am faint, my lord!" Oh, Holy Mother! Did she really want this thing to happen between them? Her legs began to buckle beneath her. She was being assailed by a range of emotions she had no experience with at all. Why had no one told her how powerful passion was? Could one die from passion?

Sweeping her up into his embrace, Varian set her gently upon their bed and lay down next to her. Raising himself upon an elbow, he leaned over to look into her face. "Would you like some wine? Perhaps it would help to calm you, sweetheart."

"I am not afraid," she lied, embarrassed. "I was just not prepared for the intensity of lovemaking. Is it always so strong, Varian?" She had been unable in the brief moment he had stood by the bed to avert her eyes from him. His body was beautiful, yet it was also mysterious to her.

"It is stronger when two people truly love one another, Nyssa. What you feel at this moment is, I think, a mixture of lust and fascination with the unknown. That would be normal for a virgin entrapped in an arranged marriage with a virtual stranger. I can arouse your body, sweeting, with my touch, and with my kisses," he told her honestly.

"Are you thought to be a good lover?" she asked. "I am certain you have made love to many women." There was no jealousy in her voice, only curiosity.

"I have been told that I have the art of pleasing a woman," he answered her modestly. This was certainly the damnedest conversation I have ever had with a naked woman, he thought, a soft chuckle escaping him. He ran a single finger across her ripe mouth. "Do you always talk so much, sweetheart? This is, after all, our wedding night."

"There are things I need to know," she began seriously, but he silenced her with a quick kiss.

"If you grow frightened, you must tell me," he said, taking command again of the situation, his lips softly brushing the edge of her ear. "I do not want you to be frightened of me, Nyssa." He nuzzled her neck, and a shiver raced through her body. "Since we are now in bed, there is no danger of your falling," he continued. "If you grow dizzy, you need fear not." His teeth bit gently into the flesh of her shoulder, sending another shiver down her spine. "You are delicious," he declared huskily.

She was dizzy, but frightened? No. She did not think she was frightened of him. He was being very kind and gentle to her. Her instincts told her she was fortunate, for another man might have been less thoughtful. She lay silent as he explored her slowly and with great tenderness. It was all most curious, she thought, watching him through half-closed eyes as his lips wandered over her shoulders, down her arms, kissing each individual fingertip in turn, moving slowly across her upper chest. Her breath caught sharply in her throat once more when his mouth closed suddenly ever the nipple of a breast. She knew infants suckled upon a woman's breasts, but she had never imagined that husbands did. He drew strongly upon her flesh, sending a jolt of pleasure deep into her very being. Was this behavior proper? She moaned low, stirring beneath the strong hands that lightly pinioned her, realizing she did not care if it was proper.

His head was whirling. He could not remember any time that making love to a woman had thrilled him so. He had, of course, never had a virgin before, not wanting the responsibility that went with a maiden's first initiation. Did she excite him so greatly because of her innocence, or was it because he loved her? His tongue slid over her perfumed skin, tasting her as he struggled desperately to maintain his control. He was so hot for her now that he was close to violence, but virgins, it was said, felt less pain if well-aroused. His mouth moved down her long torso and across her flat, quivering belly. Each place his lips touched pulsed wildly beneath his kisses.

No wonder some girls lost their reputations because of passion, Nyssa thought fuzzily. This was absolutely wonderful! No wonder mothers warned their daughters from it. If maidens knew how marvelous lovemaking was, parents would be hard-pressed to keep them from it! It was the most delicious of forbidden delights, but it was not forbidden to a married woman. She sighed deeply, enjoying the heavenly sensation of his warm tongue and his lips on her body. Her hands began a tentative exploration of his shoulders and long back. She kneaded and caressed him; shyly at first, then more boldly. Suddenly he was kissing her again, but more frantically. She tangled her fingers tightly in his dark, dark hair.

"Open your mouth for me," he groaned against her lips.

When she did, he startled her by plunging his tongue deep into the warm cavity, seeking her tongue, finding it. Their two tongues entwined about each other in a wild dance of desire. She was all silky, sweet passion-fire. He could not get enough. His desire was nearly out of control.

"I want to touch you as you are now touching me," she whispered daringly against his mouth. She touched his face gently, caressing the line of it.

"You are a bold wench," he teased, intrigued by this sudden courage, curious to know how far she would go.

"Is it wrong for a wife to be bold with her husband?" Nyssa asked him. "Your touch gives me pleasure." She honestly admitted, "I would give you pleasure too." She let her hand slide down the length of his body to lightly touch his very taut buttocks. "I never thought that a man's skin could be so soft," she said wonderingly, "but you are very soft, Varian."

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