Redemption Page 18

  “I’m fine,” he said. “Put the book back on the shelf, Alicia. I told you earlier we needed to talk. I think this is a good time for it.” He watched her as she rose, her hips swaying as she replaced the book where it belonged, and then she turned and gave him her full attention.

  “Come here,” he said, patting the bed beside himself. She was hesitant and he smiled. “I won’t bite you,” he murmured, quirking an eyebrow.

  “Don’t be foolish,” she muttered, stepping closer. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

  You should have. The thought sprang full-blown to his mind as she walked closer, and he reached to grasp her hand, held those long, slender fingers in his palm and drew her to sit on the edge of the mattress.

  “What do you want to talk about?” she asked him. “Jason?”

  He shook his head. “No, not Jason.”

  She seemed perplexed, shaking her head a bit, and then as his thumb moved slowly, carefully across her palm, she stilled, as if threatened by some unknown force. He rested her hand, fingers entwined with his, on his lap and decided quickly that it had been a mistake. She was too near that part of him that responded so readily to her proximity of late.

  “Jake? What are you doing?” she asked, a look of panic shining in his direction.

  “Just holding your hand. You’re my wife, Alicia. Don’t I have that right?”

  She touched her upper lip with the tip of her tongue. “I suppose so.” And then she shifted uncomfortably.

  He raised her hand and brought it to his mouth, his lips forming a kiss against her knuckles. All the while, he watched her, feeling like a lion who has come to the water hole to drink, only to find a gazelle there, unaware of the danger. As was Alicia.

  “Do you remember,” he began, “that evening in the parlor, when you asked me to kiss you?”

  She tugged, trying to loosen his grip on her hand, but to no avail. “Don’t embarrass me, Jake. Of course I remember. It was foolishness on my part and I fear I put you in a spot.”

  He smiled. “I enjoyed it,” he admitted. “I hadn’t kissed a woman for a long time. And I’d never kissed a woman like you before.”

  “Like me?” she asked, her voice climbing. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “A woman so innocent, so naive, that she did not know what her kiss could do to a man.”

  “Do?” she asked, catching her breath as his tongue touched the tips of her knuckles and dampened its way across the small mountains they formed on the back of her hand.

  “Shall I show you?” he asked, and then awaited her reply, knowing that if she withdrew from him, he would be obliged to let her go. He would not force her in this.

  She was silent, looking confused and bewildered. And then she whispered the single syllable he waited to hear. “Yes.”

  He drew her closer, catching her across the shoulders with his free arm and pressing her against himself. Her head tilted, pillowed against his shoulder, and she turned her face up to his, then relaxed a bit, adjusting her position and leaning more fully against him.

  He kissed her then, carefully, with a restraint he clung to with ferocious strength. It would not do to frighten her away when he was only just beginning to make a bit of progress with her. His mouth took hers, relishing the firmness of her lips, the soft pressure she offered in return and the scent of her that invaded him with the essence of woman.

  She smelled of soap and starch, of fresh bread and cinnamon. The sweet aroma of a wife, he thought, and wondered how he’d become so fanciful. Her eyes closed, long lashes lying against her cheek, and he wished for another glimpse into their blue depths. He would settle for this, he decided, bending to her again and testing the line between her lips, his tongue pressing for admittance, even as he dared move his hand to touch the front of her bodice.

  The first button came undone with ease, and then she stiffened in his arms. “Jake?” Panic underlined the single word she spoke, and he shushed her quickly, his mouth against hers, his lips whispering words of comfort.

  “I won’t hurt you, Alicia. I only want to touch you.”

  “Touch me?” She covered his hand with her own and his fingers moved beneath its fragile weight, undoing the next button, then the third. She did not call a halt to his shenanigans, only inhaled sharply as his index finger touched her skin.

  “Touch you,” he repeated quietly. “I’ve looked at you often, you know, wondering how you would feel in my hands.”

  “You have?” She sounded honestly surprised, he thought, and blessed the innocence of the woman he held. No other man had held her thusly, no other hand had invaded the valley between her soft, abundant breasts. He felt exultation sweep through him. Then he pushed aside the halves of her bodice, making room for his hand to enter beneath the fabric.

  Her vest was fitted with tiny buttons and he found that his fingers worked well on the fragile fastenings. Alicia watched him, her eyes on his face, color rushing to her cheeks, and a sheen of some new emotion shading her eyes. He opened the vest wide, revealing twin mounds of soft flesh.

  “I’m too big,” she whispered. “My mother said so.”

  “Your mother didn’t know what she was talking about,” he murmured, wondering what fool of a woman would so mark her daughter with words of scorn. “You’re exactly the right size.” He covered one breast with his palm, its fullness plump and firm under his outspread fingers.

  He bent closer and his lips touched her skin where the pink crest puckered as he breathed against it. His mouth opened and his tongue tasted her; he wondered at the shiver that spun through her body like heat lightning.

  “Do I frighten you?” he asked softly. “I don’t mean to.”

  “Nooo…” The single word was three syllables long as she drew it out.

  He squeezed gently, admiring the pretty curves he’d uncovered, allowing her to become accustomed to his hand against her bare flesh. He released her then and drew back the vest more fully, exposing the second breast to his sight. The nipple puckered as he watched and he could not resist, lowering his head to take it between his lips, aware of her soft cry of surprise as he tasted of her.

  “I didn’t know…” Her words trailed off as if she could not speak her thoughts.

  He looked up at her and smiled, loving the confusion she wore like a second skin, aware that the treasure he held was magnificent and worthy of his most careful attention. “You didn’t know that your breasts could enjoy this? That this part of you was made for loving?”

  “Loving? Is that what this is?”

  He nodded. “What goes on between a man and his wife is loving of the very best kind, Alicia. Whether they consummate their relationship by physically joining their bodies or simply give each other pleasure in any way that pleases them, it’s loving, and always right and proper.”

  “Are you sure this is a wise thing to do, Jake?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  “Oh, yes,” he said. “Unless you aren’t enjoying it. Or unless I’m hurting you.”

  “No, of course you’re not hurting me,” she protested. “I doubt you’d ever do that.”

  “Then you aren’t enjoying it?” he asked, bending his head to her again, aware that her tension was mounting with each touch of his fingers, each movement of his mouth against her skin.

  “I am,” she whispered.

  “Am what?” he asked, forcing himself not to show his amusement in any tangible way, lest he hurt her feelings.

  “You’re teasing me,” she said, wiggling against his lap as he took more of her breast into his mouth and suckled. The sound that passed her lips was a whimper of pleasure, a sound of yearning he could barely resist.

  So intent was she on the attention he lavished on her breasts, she seemed barely to notice when he undid the remainder of her buttons and allowed her dress to fall from her shoulders and settle around her waist. His arms enclosed her as he felt the warmth of her lush form, and he knew a moment of aching need he’d thought would never be his a
gain.

  “Let me take off your clothes,” he whispered, and knew the moment his words registered with her.

  She stiffened against him and shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “I just can’t, Jake. I can’t let you see me without anything on.”

  “You saw my legs, Alicia. Didn’t you?”

  “I tried not to look,” she told him, and he smiled, his head bent as he heard the unspoken confession of her lapse. “I couldn’t help it,” she said. “I was helping the doctor take care of you.”

  “I want to take care of you now,” he told her. “But I can’t do it with all these layers between us.”

  She thought for a moment and then lifted her head to look at him. “Will you let me blow out the lamp?”

  “If you need to.” He wanted to see her in the light, but right now, he’d take her any way he could get her.

  She leaned toward the lamp to blow out the flame, and then settled back in his arms. The darkness was absolute at first, and then the light from the window began to allow him small glimpses of her. “I can’t get undressed this way,” she complained. “I need to stand up first.”

  “By all means,” he said judiciously, willing to allow her to stand before him and strip from the layers of clothing that hid her from his view.

  She was pale in the faint glow from the windows, her arms pulling the vest from her body, then pushing her dress to the floor. She undid the ties of her petticoat and it followed the dress, leaving her in a pair of drawers that covered her thoroughly. He reached for her then, loosening them and pushing them from her hips. They fell at her feet and he murmured words that vibrated in his throat.

  “Step out of them,” he said hoarsely. “And take off your stockings.”

  She did as he asked, holding his shoulder for balance as she rolled the stockings to her ankles and then pulled them off. Standing before him, she was a woman blessed with a bountiful form, a woman who would have been beloved by the painters of the past, he thought, when such full-figured females were the most honored and respected of all women.

  And she was his…every round, warm part of her was his to hold in his arms. In that moment he knew that he was blessed indeed to have the ripe perfection of Alicia McPherson before him.

  His hands caressed her hips, cupped her bottom, and he felt her squirm against his palms. He was on the edge of the bed now, and he drew her to stand before him, then leaned forward to press his mouth against the curve of her belly, inhaling the sweet scent of her.

  “I don’t think you should—”

  “Don’t think at all,” he said, silencing her protest. “Just know that I’m loving you, Alicia, that you are my wife and every part of you is precious to me.” He looked up to where her face was a pale oval, her features not discernible. But he knew what she looked like, for he’d examined her from every angle over the past months, had made it his business to learn the lines of her form, the gentle sweep of her brow and the bow of her mouth.

  “Will you lie down with me?” he asked gently. “I’m not as other men, Alicia. You know that, and what we do together will not be as it might have occurred if you’d wed another man. But I know we can find pleasure together if you’ll give me a chance to make it happen.”

  She bowed her head, her lips pressing against his brow, and nodded, as if the words were hard to come by. And then he moved back, making room for her beside him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  HER HEAD FOUND a comfortable place on his shoulder and she snuggled close to him, her innocence leaving her unaware of the potent arousal that was making itself known beneath the sheet. He was warm, his body radiating heat—not with the fever that had possessed him last night—but with the healthy glow of a man whose body is preparing to take possession of his woman. He yearned for the patience to please her, to bring her a knowledge of pleasure.

  “Jake?” She sounded curious and he turned a bit to face her, knowing that his manhood was surely becoming obvious to her now. She raised her hands to his chest and her fingertips pressed against the dark hair that centered his body, that ran in an arrow downward to where he felt an urgency he wasn’t certain he could contain.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.

  The sound he made was almost a growl, a groan uttered deep within his throat, and he recognized the primitive part of himself that responded to her words. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said, his voice husky with desire. “I know enough for both of us. All you have to do is let me love you, and try to be patient with me. I haven’t done this for a long time, and I’m not sure my body will do as I want it to.”

  “I’ll do anything you say,” she told him, brave soul that she was, totally unaware of the effect her words had on him. She was giving him permission to lay claim to her, to possess her body without delay; but not for the world would he bring her undue pain.

  “Then let me do this,” he said to her, rolling her onto her back and leaning over her. He touched her breasts again, then lowered his head to suckle there, burying his face in her softness. She was so sweet, and he thought for a moment that he would lose control, that it would be over before it was barely begun.

  His lips opened against her skin, and he kissed her shoulder, the line of her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, noting the quick intake of breath as she shivered beneath his touch. He ran his hand lightly over her form, admiring the smooth skin, the rounding of her hips, the width of that place where she might one day carry his child. His fingers moved between her legs, caressing her womanhood, and she raised herself slightly to meet his touch.

  “Jake?” Her voice was high, breathless, and her face turned against his shoulder, muffling the response she could not contain.

  “Do you like that?” he asked, exploring farther, seeking the proof of her arousal.

  She nodded against him and he nudged her legs apart, smiling when she obeyed his unspoken command. A moan of pleasure reached his ear and he bent to her breast again, seeking the puckered tip and tugging it inside his mouth, while his fingers found the sleek entry he sought.

  “Let me, Alicia,” he whispered. “Please don’t turn me away.”

  She relaxed, allowing the intrusion, and he found the soft tissues that were ready for his entry. There would be pain for her, for she was untried and tense. Not for anything would he deliberately hurt her, or make her feel trapped beneath him.

  Holding himself above her would be difficult, though he knew from past experience with Rena that he was capable. But for Alicia, for this first time, he wanted her to have the freedom to move as she would. He rolled with her until they faced each other, then spoke carefully, moving her aside as he straightened in the bed and sat leaning against the headboard.

  “Come and sit on my lap,” he said, taking her hand and drawing her to sit astride him. She was compliant, eager to please, and she lowered herself against the length of his manhood.

  “Do you think it will fit there?” she asked, looking down as if she might see the matching of two parts. And well she might be dubious, he thought. His fingers had invaded the narrow passage, but this was another thing altogether.

  “We’ll work it out,” he promised, and coaxed her to rise a bit, positioning himself beneath her. “Will you do this for me?” he asked. “Will you bring us together, sweetheart?”

  “I don’t know if I can.” Her breathing was rapid and she trembled in his embrace, but he was careful, his hand between them, his fingers caressing her with deliberate movements that brought her to the very brink of pleasure.

  “Jake?” Her whisper was one of surprise, as though some wondrous event was hovering just over the horizon, and if she were to reach out she might possess it for her own.

  He lifted her gently, then eased her downward to take the full length of his manhood within her body. She tilted her head back and clenched tight muscles around him, milking him with an unconscious urgency. A sharp cry split the air as he pushed his way through her maidenhead, and then he was full
y seated and she leaned forward to rest her head against his.

  “Lift a bit, then come back down on me,” he whispered, helping her to establish the rhythm that would bring her to release. His fingers touched her again and she wiggled against him, unable to hold the pace he had set.

  She clenched him tightly, then moved more rapidly, crying out, speaking his name as she rose and fell against him. He joined her then, his body barely able to restrain the thrusting he feared would cause her distress. But she was beyond pain, her cries making him aware that he had brought her pleasure, a joy that far outweighed the brief hurt when he’d pierced her innocence and truly made her his wife.

  She slumped against him and he turned with her, rolling her to her side before he slid down to take her in his embrace. She curled against him, her face damp with tears, and he felt a moment of guilt that he’d given her pain, yet his heart rejoiced that she had known her first loving at his hands.

  “Don’t cry, Alicia. It will be better next time. I’ll never hurt you again. Only this once.”

  “It couldn’t be any better,” she whispered. “It hurt, but not more than I’d expected it would. And you made me fly, Jake. I thought I’d taken wing like the birds who soar through the heavens…” She ducked her face against his chest.

  “You’ll think I’m silly.”

  “No.” He shook his head and held her close. “Never, sweetheart. If I brought you a measure of enjoyment, I’m happy.” He tilted her face up to his. “You’ve given me more than you know, Alicia. You’ve given me a new lease on life.”

  JASON CAME HOME THE NEXT afternoon, making a bee-line for his father’s room as soon as he burst in through the back door. His sack of belongings landed on the kitchen floor and Alicia picked it up, smiling as she watched him hustle past her. He called to Jake, his voice high, excited and filled with anticipation.

  “Pa? Are you better, Pa?”

  She heard the low rumble of Jake’s reply, followed by the familiar laughter of a nine-year-old boy.