“Your virginal trepidation.”
She bit her lip, knowing she was blushing. “Yes.”
His compelling eyes held sympathy, tenderness, as did his low voice. “I don’t expect I could fully understand, since I’ve never been a woman. But I promise you, the consummation won’t be as disagreeable as you fear.”
Stiffening, Brynn deliberately looked away. She would have no protection against Lucian whatever if she allowed him to seduce her with tenderness. “I am not interested in your promises, my lord. I agreed to share your bed, nothing more.”
“Forgive me, love, but you agreed to be my wife.”
She had no reply for that, for she had indeed agreed to be his wife. And to bear him a son. Which entailed sexual intimacy…
When Lucian shrugged out of his jacket, Brynn stiffened. His shirt followed, giving her a warm jolt of disturbing awareness. In the fading half-light, his torso was unexpectedly muscular, and made her surprisingly breathless.
“Could we not… put off the consummation for the time being? I scarcely know you.”
His glance held disarming gentleness. “The sooner you put it behind you, the sooner you’ll realize there is nothing to fear.”
“I am not afraid, precisely. I simply don’t want to be intimate with you.”
“Why not? Is there something physical about me that you find disagreeable?”
“You know there is not. Not… physical.”
“What, then?”
You make me feel far too vulnerable, she thought to herself. “Your insufferable arrogance. You think all women should fall at your feet.”
“I assure you, I don’t think that at all.” His voice was low, vibrant, stroking her like rich velvet.
When she didn’t reply, he reached up to touch a curling tendril of hair that had escaped its severe knot. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about the pleasures to be found in lovemaking? What it means to be fully a woman?”
“No, not in the least,” she lied.
As if to disprove her claim, he shifted his hand to caress the shell of her ear with a fingertip. Brynn nearly flinched.
“Has your blood never turned hot at a man’s touch?”
Only yours, she thought, biting her lower lip as his finger slowly trailed down the back of her neck.
“You won’t find lovemaking unpleasant, I’ll vow. At least not after the initial time. I think I can safely promise you will enjo
y the physical side of marriage.”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze. And yet it was difficult to remain aloof when his fingertips were moving over her skin with such delectable pressure.
His hand continued caressing her nape. “May I take down your hair, Brynn? Please?”
She hesitated, vaguely disarmed by that “please.” She would have liked to refuse him, but as her husband, he had that right. “If you wish.”
“I wish very much.” Rising partway, he knelt behind her and began to remove the pins from her hair. Brynn held her breath at his tender ministrations. She could smell the warm, clean, musky scent of his skin, feel the heat of his hard, elegant body at her back as he freed the heavy mass and let it fall. When his fingers curled slowly, possessively in her hair, she felt a dangerous softening inside her. His touch was so gentle, so incredibly arousing.
Then, wordlessly, he brushed her hair aside, smoothing the thick tresses over her shoulder, and began unfastening the buttons of her gown. Brynn went rigid. Moments later, she felt the hot, moist tip of his tongue trace the high curve of her spine, and she shivered. He was nuzzling her neck, his teeth strangely arousing against her flesh.
She remained frozen, aware of a disquieting pleasure that uncurled low in her stomach. His soft, persuasive lips continued to kiss her nape as he slid the neckline of her gown down over her shoulders to expose her corset. She could feel him loosening the hooks, feel the restrictive pressure ease. When he lowered the bodice of her chemise, her breasts spilled out.
“Lucian…” she protested.
“I like the sound of my name on your lips.”