The Society Bride. Fiona Hood-Stewart

she tried to shy away. ‘No. Please, Ramon, I—’

      ‘Nena, might I remind you that a few days ago you vowed to obey me? I would hate to see you not keep your word.’ His eyes pinned her now, allowing no room for flight. ‘I am your husband, the man who has the right to see you, to possess you.’

      It was a command, she realised, wishing she had the will-power to refuse him. Part of her hated him for what he was doing; the other submitted with intense female surrender. After all, he was right. The vow to obey had been part of their marriage ceremony; she had pronounced the words. But she hadn’t thought of their meaning. Now, seeing him rise and stand over her next to the bed, his face unsmiling as his gaze held hers, she knew that the words were for real.

      Slowly, very slowly, Nena slipped to the edge of the bed.

      ‘Stand up,’ he ordered softly.

      Nena did as he bade her—standing, cheeks flushed, clenching her hands, as gently but firmly he pulled up the nightdress and slipped it over her head, leaving her before him with nothing but the long strands of her silky tawny mane for protection.

      Then Ramon took a step back and feasted his eyes on her. ‘You’re beautiful—lovely,’ he whispered hoarsely, letting his fingers trail over her, past her breast on down to her belly.

      Despite her embarrassment Nena experienced another mind-wrenching tingle rush through her when his fingers reached further. All at once she realised she felt damp and hot, filled with a desire so great she could barely control the moan that escaped her when his fingers fondled her soft mound of golden curls, then slipped between her legs, probing further as he drew her close with his other arm.

      And all at once she wanted to experience his skin on hers, to know what he felt like, and it was she who began tugging at the tie of his pyjamas.

      ‘Not so fast, cariña,’ he murmured, close to her ear. ‘There’s time for that.’

      ‘No,’ she muttered, gasping as he touched a place deep inside her, provoking thrusts of pain and joy, leaving her increasingly ragged and wanting. ‘You saw me. Now I want to see you.’

      Ramon let out a low, satisfied laugh. ‘Very well, my darling.’ With that he continued caressing her with one hand while with the other he helped her remove the offending garments.

      Soon they were standing naked, facing one another. Then Ramon gently removed his fingers and looked into her eyes. ‘I am your husband, Nena, don’t be ashamed.’

      And the amazing thing, Nena realised, baffled, was that she wasn’t. In fact she felt a strange new power take hold as he looked at her, and—tentatively at first—she allowed herself to look at his body, feast on his strong, bronzed and muscled limbs, his broad yet lean torso, then on down.

      Firmly Ramon slipped his hand over hers and drew it towards him. ‘I want you to feel me as I’ve felt you,’ he said, drawing her back into his arms and gently placing her hand upon him, strangely enchanted to know that this was the first time she’d been with a man, that he was the first to teach her. Another sudden rush of possessiveness and then something far stronger hit him with utter surprise: for all at once he hoped he would be the last.

      It was a strange, overwhelming feeling that left him more emotionally touched than he could have believed possible. Now, as his arms slipped around her once more and he drew her back onto the bed, he tried to reason with himself, keep up the control. But he couldn’t—could think only of reaching further, knowing her thoroughly, and he kissed her, not gently, as before, but with a new, surging passion that eradicated all trace of hesitation. The latter was replaced by a passionate, gnawing hunger that he’d rarely known but that needed to be assuaged.

      Nena held her breath and let her feelings take over, her heart beating so loudly she was sure he would hear it, delighting in the hard wall of muscled male body cleaving against her. And something more, something much more troubling yet stirring, a primal need, grew inside her that she knew she had to pursue, as Ramon began a thorough and delicious investigation of her body, starting with feathery kisses at her throat that descended, further and further, taunting her aching swollen nipples, then moved on down until he reached her core.

      Nena let out a gasp as his tongue flicked over the little nub of sensitive flesh she’d been unaware existed until this very moment. Seconds later she was moaning, writhing, unable to restrain the need to rake her fingers through his hair.

      ‘Ramon!’ she cried, and shattered again into a myriad of indescribable sensations, only to end up curled in his arms as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear and soothed her gently as every pulse in her body beat wildly.

      And there was more to come.

      Just as Nena was beginning to steady herself Ramon slipped his fingers between her thighs once more and probed, slowly, feeling the soft liquid honey, making sure she was ready for what was to happen next.