Page 92 of My Darling Rogue
CHAPTER38
Gabriel rolled onto his back, throwing a hand over his eyes as memories of the night roared into his head. Beside him, nestled on the pillows with an arm thrown across his midsection, Celia slept soundly. The tracks of dried tears stained her cheeks, a silent recrimination of how brutally he’d abused her the night before. How far beyond the pale he’d taken his plan to release her from the prison of her past.
He’d gone too far.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
Perhaps his plan had worked at first. She’d cried, but she’d also accepted what he gave her. She’d not used her special word to stop him. Had not pleaded nor begged for mercy. Miraculously, she’d even slept through the night after he turned the lamps completely down. Slipped into sleep with a faint smile on her face despite the room being in total darkness.
No, his courageous girl accepted everything he’d given her. And he’d masterfully restrained himself until that moment when she’d called him “my love.”
Those words, spoken with such desperation, turned him into a wild beast. A feral creature determined to mark his mate.
“Fuck,”Gabriel groaned again, recalling how his teeth clamped down on her in the frenzy to stake his claim. She’d been so sweet in his mouth, her taste one of honey. Of sugared fruit. Of all things decadent and inherently sinful.
Then, after all that, he’d taken her again. Knowing she was sore from his cock and the riding crop. Knowing she was coming down from a unique high caused by multiple orgasms, intense pleasure, and the stripes laid across her buttocks as she writhed for him against the damned bedpost. He was worse than his own father could have ever thought of being. He had taken advantage of Celia’s weakness. Her innate innocence. Her willingness to please him.
Closing his eyes, Gabriel clenched his fists.
I’m a goddamn monster.Her tear-stained cheeks, the red marks on her wrists from his cravat, and the massive erection between his own legs at that very moment were all irrefutable, damning proof.
“Good morning.”
Celia’s soft voice snapped Gabriel’s eyes open. Turning his head, he encountered the liquid chocolate of her gaze. Her lips curved into a hesitant smile that illuminated the hazy morning light of their room.
Christ, she was so beautiful it made his mouth dry.
“Good morning,” he replied, tensing up. Any second now, she would accuse him of violence. Of taking her against her will. Of hurting her, and worse, finding enjoyment in it.
But Celia did none of those things. Instead, she moved closer and pressed a kiss on his mouth. A soft, sweet, shy kiss that surprised Gabriel and did nothing to stem the fire raging through his veins.
“I slept without the lamps, didn’t I?”
Her question was not one of accusation. She sounded curious. And proud of herself for the accomplishment
Gabriel nodded.
Celia’s fingers twined with his, and the simple act of holding his hand left his heart in utter shambles. The wedding ring on her finger glinted sharply, reflecting the pale light in the room. It reminded Gabriel just how precious this woman was to him.
“Thank you, Gabriel.” She brought his hand to her mouth, pressing kisses to his knuckles.
“It will not keep your fears at bay forever, but it is a start.” His reply came out in a growl. He sounded like an angry bear when truly he was attempting to behave more gentlemanly.
But, seven hells, how he wanted to fuck his sweet wife into oblivion at that very moment.
She appeared unconcerned by his gruffness. Taking the hand she’d just kissed, she held it to her bosom. Her gaze was calm and steady—so unlike the frightened, anxious woman in his arms last night.
“There is that, at least.” Celia smiled again. “I’m willing to try your methods again. If you think it will help me.” Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment while Gabriel clenched his teeth to keep himself from rolling her beneath him. Did she even realize she was naked beneath the coverlet? And he was as well?
Did she not know the willpower required to stop from doing everything his body howled for?
“I think, perhaps, I went too far last night. Sugarplum, I do not wish to truly hurt you.”
“You haven’t and you won’t,” she stated firmly, her chin tilting up. “I trust you, Gabriel. With all that I am, I trust you.”
She moved even closer until the soft scent of roses, lemons, and sex filled Gabriel’s nostrils. It was intoxicating enough to make his head swim. “Will you kiss me, Gabriel? And… touch me again?”
Dear God. Celia was not frightened by his methods. She was not shrinking away from him in horror. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her.
