Page 23 of A Whisper of Desire
And then he rolled off her to lie by her side. His large hand drew one of hers into its grip and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
“Are you all right? I’m sorry. I was a bit rougher than I should have been. I promise I’ll be more controlled in future.”
“It was perfect the way it was. I’ll never forget this night as long as I live.”
The intimacy of their joining would stay with her long after the act.
They lay together, each relaxing, getting their breathing under control. Maitland’s gaze was focused on the fire. She wondered what he was thinking. Soon she had her answer.
“You should go back to your own room. You’ll need a good night’s sleep before meeting the staff in the morning.”
His words were a knife to her chest. Beatrice never slept anywhere but in Sebastian’s bed. Why was he pushing her away?
“I don’t mind staying.”
He rolled to the edge of the bed and stood, donning the red velvet robe once again.
He picked up her negligee and came round to her side of the large bed and offered the garment to her.
“I’m a restless sleeper and would only keep you awake. Besides that, I snore.”
She lay naked before him on the bed, undecided on what to do. Should she obey him? Before God, she’d promised to obey him.
Against her better judgment, she reached for the flimsy garment. Aunt Alison had always told her to pick her battles. Marisa did not wish to tarnish this night with an argument, but as she made her way through the adjoining door to her room and slipped into her cold, lonely bed, she vowed that this arrangement of sleeping apart would be brought to a very quick end.
—
Maitland walked to his sideboard and with shaking hands poured himself a drink. Tonight had not gone as planned, and that in itself unsettled him. He planned most things meticulously.
What unsettled him was his wife. Marisa’s behavior tonight was nothing like he’d assumed, but then again, he’d not really given too much thought to her as a person.
He had expected that she was the same as any young lady of quality. He barked a laugh into the empty room. Like a fool, he’d not considered that he’d spent very little time with young virginal ladies, so how could he possibly have known what to expect? His planning lacked detail, something their rushed marriage precluded completing.
He had originally selected her because, well, because she was there. She was his best friend’s sister, she was beautiful, and he liked the idea of aligning their families. But he’d never really considered her as a person.
It was obvious she had wants and needs similar to his. She bloody well liked sex. Her enthusiasm was addictive. She took after her brother in that regard. He should have thought of that—wasn’t he sure lineage and blood ties were all telling? Like father like son, why not like brother like sister? Sebastian had always loved sex!
He’d never expected her to challenge him, and especially not on the night he took her virginity. He hadn’t expected his virgin bride to initiate sex. She hardly knew him, and had not particularly liked what she knew of him.
Marisa had shocked him by coming to his room. Even more so when he noticed that she’d embraced coitus like a courtesan in training.
Maitland took a long sip of brandy as he contemplated her response to him—to sex. He had to admit that there was something earthy and primitive about being a woman’s first lover. Pride, possession, and a dose of old-fashioned masculinity struck him. Coitus with Marisa had been profound, creating a bond between them that he didn’t quite understand.
He’d hoped that over time they would grow closer. She would run his home and bear his children. Marisa had bloomed into a real person in his bed. She wasn’t simply a convenient wife anymore.
Tonight he’d had coitus with a hot-blooded woman. A woman who he’d aggressively claimed, invading her untouched body with a strength and need he had not experienced in years. She was a woman a man could lose his head and heart over.
He paced his room and stopped to pick up the discarded book where it lay forgotten on the floor. That silk negligee…He was growing hard again justthinkingabout what she’d looked like in it.
He downed the rest of his brandy. He needed to be on his guard. Marisa could be his weak link. All his training to deny his urges almost unraveled in his bed tonight.
It was the first time a woman had ever touched those sheets, and he’d felt his father’s love for all things sexual unfurl when he saw Marisa lying where he’d let his sick mind fantasize while pleasuring himself.
A man could get too used to having a wife at his beck and call. Even now he yearned to keep Marisa in his bed for a week.
Before his marriage, he’d sought out female company on a regular schedule, never less than three days between any liaison. No more and no less, all very professional and routine, a different woman each time. That arrangement saw to his needs and kept his passions under control.
Tonight he’d lost control. If he hadn’t sent her to her room, no doubt they would be making love again, and again…
