Bride Ball Read online

  Amber moaned, her hands creeping up his arms to his shoulders, her body nestling closer to his. She became bolder, her tongue venturing past his and into his mouth, her hands tunneling into his hair.

  Moments later, they were molded together, their mouths meshed hard and their tongues dancing. Edward removed the barrette from her hair, combing his fingers through it, then cupping the back of her head to deepen the kiss further.

  Goddess, but she met him with all she had. It was all he could do to ease away from her and not start taking liberties he wasn’t certain she’d offer.

  “That,” he panted out, “was not inept.”

  “But you didn’t...” Her passionate expression melted into one of misery.

  Realization was a moment behind. “You were in pain.” And still, he’d nearly come, but now was the wrong time to admit it.

  Far from reassuring her, his reply seemed to confuse her further.

  Edward berated himself again for his rush with her. “I was the clumsy one. Every shred of common sense told me you were new to the experience, and I didn’t listen to it.”

  She shook her head. “I asked—”

  “Yes, but I should have gone slowly.”

  “But...how can you know I won’t...again?” She fidgeted, uncomfortable with something, but whether it was the idea of trying again or simply her inexperience with such discussions was a mystery.

  “We could settle that,” he suggested, raw in need.

  “Here? Now?” Amber whispered hoarsely, looking toward the door, as if the thought scandalized her, as if the fact that her grandmother had sent them to this room held no meaning for her.

  “I want you as my wife,” he reminded her. There was a time when it seemed she didn’t mind that idea. “Would you rather my bed than one in your own home?”

  “There’s been no agreement,” she protested weakly.

  “Then agree—”

  “But you don’t know—”

  Edward forced a sigh in the place of the growl he wanted to vent. “You think it’s unwise to agree before I know we’re sexually compatible—which I might note I have no question of—but you think it’s unseemly to prove it without an agreement? You try me to no end.”

  He’d meant it in teasing, but Amber blanched as if he’d struck a blow.

  “And I love that you do.”

  She met his eyes, stunned.

  “Agree to this,” he cajoled, drawing his lips down the line of her jaw to her chin. “Let me prove we’re compatible.”

  “Yes.” Her answer ruffled his hair.

  Edward returned to her lips, playing at her in hard, fast kisses while he stroked at her hair and unfastened the back of her dress. He eased her arms from his neck, removing the sleeves so the fabric pooled at her hips.

  He went to work on his jacket, jerking it off the ends of his arms and sending it flying in the general direction of her bustier. His shirt went next, leaving them chest-to-chest, their mouths mating, over and over.

  The swivel of Amber’s hips broke them apart. Edward watched her work the dress and panties down her hips, licking his lips in anticipation. They slipped down to her knees, and she shimmied them off her feet, toeing her shoes off so that she stood naked.

  Edward barely breathed. His hands fumbled at the buttons on his trousers; he yanked them open, his urge to be inside her at a fever pitch.

  Calm. The last thing you want to do is hurt her again. He didn’t, but controlling himself after more than a week without her was going to be difficult.

  Amber’s hands eased inside the waistline, pushing them away...and his underwear with them. She stared between their bodies, her eyes wide in something resembling wonder.

  He raised his hands and raked them through her hair, drawing Amber closer to his body. The feeling of his cock tangling in her feminine curls had him shivering in need.

  She hesitated.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  “I can’t...” Amber pushed his trousers another finger-width. “If you’re holding me like this, I can’t—”

  “I don’t care.” Edward was hard and aching. It would be a sure sign of the Goddess’s power, if he restrained himself long enough to get inside her, let alone undressed before it.

  Amber looked up at him, questioning that statement. He didn’t answer. Edward tilted his head and brought his lips to hers, enticing her open for him.

  Her hands trailed up his thighs, paused, then caressed his cock. She learned his dimensions, tested his feel, played in the fluids leaking from him, all the while forcing him closer to the abyss.

  Edward had to change what was happening before he spent in her hand. Though it would prove she could pleasure him...and be damned enjoyable at the same time, it wouldn’t prove she could take him inside.

  He prayed Amber wasn’t still tender from their first time. It was unlikely, given the amount of time she’d had to heal. Still, there was no knowing if he’d taken all of her hymen, in his haste.

  It was unacceptable that she believe it was insurmountable. Edward had to ease her into the sensation this time, provide adequate pleasure, even if she also felt a bit of pain, so he could convince her that the pain would subside with time.

  He guided her toward the bed, leaving her mouth as he eased to the surface. Edward placed his hands on her hips, drawing Amber down over him. He turned, raising his legs to the mattress between hers, nearly groaning at how hot and wet she was.

  Amber shifted against his thigh, biting her lower lip as she experimented with the joys of touching. Her hands went to his hips, seeking balance or purchase.

  Edward slid his hand between his thigh and her ready body, playing at her clit. Her eyes fluttered shut on a gasp, and his mouth watered to taste her again. She cycled her hips, riding his fingertips, seeking her climax.

  Knowing if she’d recovered from their last encounter was imperative. Edward eased one finger inside her, stilling as she did, her hands clasped tight on his waist.

  For a moment, her panting was the loudest sound in the room. He didn’t advance or retreat, though he teased at her clit with his thumb.

  Amber started moving again, more fervently. Edward watched her, greedy, determined to feel and see her shatter on his hand.

  She didn’t disappoint him. Her head tipped back, until her hair brushed his thighs and knees with every movement. Her sheath jerked, tightened, then started undulating around him.

  Edward slid a second finger into her contracting body, and she let out a little mew of want. At the edges of restraint, he added a third, pushing slowly into the crowded channel. Her head came up, her eyes meeting his. Edward stroked the fingers in and out of her slowly, testing her response.

  Her gaze trailed down his body, raising goose bumps in her wake. She stopped at his waist, no doubt considering his cock.

  “You want to feel it,” he whispered, hoping it was true. “Smoother than my fingers, thicker, longer.”

  Amber nodded, a dreamy look in her eyes, as if imagining what it would feel like. Her body clenched around his fingers in silent demand.

  Edward moved his free hand to his cock, stroking it suggestively, then bracing it up from his body for her. He slid his fingers free, making a show of painting her climax on the head of his cock, mixing it with his own fluids.

  She watched him hungrily, then shot him a questioning look.

  “You control this. Take as much of me as you’re comfortable with...as slowly as you wish.” Goddess help me hold off for her, he begged silently.

  “What if I can’t take all of you?”

  “That will come in time,” he soothed her.

  “Can you... If I don’t, can you...” She darkened.

  “It’s not going to take much of you.” Already, the urge to spend was riding him hard.

  Amber eased up high on her knees and shifted further up his body. Edward tipped his hips, stroking the tip of his cock against her clit...then lower, teasing at her slit. A low moan escaped her
lips, and Amber eased down over him, going still as the head gave way to shaft.

  Edward panted back his body’s call to thrust deep and spend, squeezing his eyes shut tight. When he opened them, it was to the sight of Amber’s questioning eyes.

  “You are so potent,” he explained.

  She seemed surprised that he found her so, but she took several more finger-widths of him. Perhaps, she was testing his claim. Edward couldn’t be certain, but he encouraged her with half-formed pleas for more.

  The feeling of her body engulfing more of him stole his sanity. He cried out in pleasure, and she retreated slightly along his length.

  “Yes. Like that,” he managed. “By the Goddess, yes.”

  Amber returned, halfway down his length, slid back, then came at him again, nearly reaching his still-circling fingers. Edward moved them, bringing his hands to her hips, riding the wave of his rising body and tightening slightly as she came down deeper.

  “Oh, yes,” she echoed him. “Like that.”

  The next downward motion of her hips took Edward nearly to the root. He met her eyes, pushing his hips up to seat the last of himself in her.

  Her eyes slid shut, and she stayed there, probably acclimating to the sensation. Edward held his ground, though the need to move was maddening.

  Amber rocked lightly, little wisps of motion that rendered his breathing harsh and choppy. He cycled his hips, affecting deeper thrusts.

  She murmured something he didn’t quite hear. It sounded of a request...perhaps a plea.

  “Tell me,” he grumbled. “Tell me how it feels. Tell me what you want.”

  Her eyes remained closed. “The way you took me before,” she gasped out. “I want you...above...”

  Edward rolled her beneath him with a growl, taking the dominant position. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and she rose against him, drawing Edward further into her body. His patience and control at their breaking points, he started thrusting, half-afraid it would be too much for her.

  Far from it, Amber grasped hard at his shoulders, her short nails leaving hot trails. Her legs tightened around him, and she bucked hard against him, her breathing ragged.

  “What do you want?” he repeated. By the Goddess, he wanted to hear her say it.

  “More.”

  “You want all of me?” he asked for clarification. “As deep as I can go?”

  “Yes,” she shouted, her sheath whispering the precursors to another climax. “Yes, Christopher!”

  He settled further back on his knees, pulling her legs from his hips and urging them up and out to open her body. Amber stared at him, quaking lightly.

  “Without changing positions completely, this is one of the deepest...” he explained hastily. “Do you trust me?”

  She nodded, seemingly beyond words, as she’d often been their first night together.

  Edward pushed inside her, shuddering as he reached deeper than he had been before. A wild drive to imprint his length on her untried body assaulted him. But would such an aggressive move frighten her?

  Amber moaned, arching her back. “Now, Christopher,” she begged.

  That spelled the end of his control. Edward pistoned his hips, trying to even his breathing and heart rate, to stave off release.

  “You’re mine,” he informed her.

  “Yes.” Her eyes were heavy in arousal, her hips rising and falling in his rhythm.

  By the Goddess, she’d never want another, if he could help it.

  That was his last coherent thought. After that, it was only sensation...flesh against flesh, slicked by their body fluids and sweat, their mixed taste and scent, the pounding of the bed and their rising sounds.

  Amber shattered around him, screaming in ecstasy, pulling at Edward as if there was any way to draw him further into her. He cried out at the sensation of her body milking him dry, roared in triumph as Amber shouted his name, sank over her in the aftermath of a draining climax.

  They lay together, his cock jerking in continuing spasms, releasing the last of his pent-up cum into her. Edward nuzzled at her lips, stroking inside her mouth when they parted, sharing her breath. He pressed his forehead to hers, every finger-width of his body sensitized as a result of their loving.

  “Will you agree?” he asked.

  There was a moment of disconcerting silence between them.

  “Yes. I will.”

  Chapter Eight

  Amber sighed, burrowing further under the quilt. The house was unnaturally quiet, and for a moment she felt certain it was the middle of the night. The light around her was so brilliant that it illuminated the space behind her eyelids, making her vision rosy, even with her eyes shut, belying the idea that there was darkness beyond the windows.

  Her brain worked at that. Her room didn’t get direct sunlight, between the angles of the sun and the trees on that side of the house. That was one of the reasons none of the other family members wanted it, the reason Marquita had claimed Amber’s old rooms when her father died. The only rooms that got light this bright were Nana’s, Mora’s and the two hens’.

  And the guest rooms. Dear Goddess!

  Amber opened her eyes, blinking in the harsh evening light. The dark shape looming over her attained form and detail.

  Christopher was watching her, his head cocked up on one bent arm. His expression was unreadable but intense. She drew the quilt up from her belly to her chin, feeling as if she was on display.

  Don’t be stupid! He’s seen me nude. Twice, to date.

  He smiled, and her heart rate eased slightly.

  “You are unaccustomed to waking with a man,” he mused.

  Her cheeks burned. “I thought we’d established that the night of the Bride Ball,” she quipped in return.

  Christopher chuckled darkly. “I meant that I realize I frightened you. You will probably appreciate having your own rooms at the palace.”

  Her heart ached at that. He wanted to marry her but not to share a bed with her? The thought of cavernous, empty rooms left her cold.

  His smile faded. “What is it?”

  Amber shook her head, at a loss to complain. She should have expected this. After all, Nana and Nathaniel had kept separate rooms. In every way, her parents were the exception to the rules that governed society.

  Christopher seemed to consider something of great importance. A look of realization settled on his face. “You don’t want to live in your own rooms.”

  Her cheeks felt afire in embarrassment.

  “Do you?” He sounded less sure.

  She shook her head slowly.

  His smile returned. “What a temptation. I warn you that I will find it difficult to restrain myself with you in the bed with me every night.”

  “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.” Amber winced, biting at her lower lip. Goddess, what am I saying?

  Christopher laughed long and hard, much as he had the first time they talked in the ballroom of Lord Elmstead’s manor. He laughed so hard that the bed shook in his mirth. Amber found herself smiling along with him.

  She sobered at a new thought, one she hadn’t allowed herself to consider before. “What will the agreement say?”

  He stopped laughing and stared down at her. “Nearly anything you want it to.”

  His answer was so earnest and heartfelt, tears stung her eyes.

  A knock at the door drew his head around. “Yes?” Christopher called out.

  A man’s voice replied. “Do we spend the night here or leave in time for a late dinner at Elmstead’s estate?”

  Amber’s stomach growled at the mention of dinner. She’d not eaten at all, save the tea she’d shared with Marquita and Kambry and several cups of water...and she’d expended considerable energy with Christopher.

  Christopher looked to her, arching a brow in silent question.

  “I’d walk in looking the pauper,” she admitted.

  “Where is the skirt you wore to the ball?” he asked, unperturbed by being seen with a lowborn...one that look
ed the part.

  “In...in the lowest drawer of Nana’s bureau.” But why would he ask it?

  “Darren!”

  “Yes?” the man in the corridor replied.

  “In the lowest drawer of the bureau in Lady Reanne’s room, there is a brown suede skirt.” His voice lowered. “Is there anything you require from your room?”

  “No. There are only a few dresses for work.”

  “No possessions you wish to take with you?” he pressed, his eyes narrowing.

  She shook her head...then stopped. “My books. There are shelves of books in my room. My father left them to me.”

  Christopher nodded. “Bring the skirt, Darren...and have the guards put the books from my bride’s room in the vehicle.”

  “As you wish.” His footsteps faded away.

  Christopher stroked the line of her jaw with his fingertips. “Where is the bath?” he asked.

  “This is the guest master. The bath is through the door there.” She motioned to the wall to the left, as one entered the room.

  He rose from the bed, naked and semi-erect. Just when she thought he’d walk away, when she’d prepared herself to watch his luscious backside disappearing into the bath, Christopher put his hand down for her. Amber stared at it, at a loss for what he meant.

  “A quick bath,” he explained. “I promise to restrain myself until we’ve had dinner.”

  “Together?” She sounded the naïve child, and she wished she’d paid more attention to Nana’s prattling about the things men and women did together.

  “I’ll wash your back,” he offered, with a look of innocence she knew was feigned.

  “I dare say you’ll wash more than that.” She grimaced. “I am hopeless, I’m afraid.” She’d always had difficulty leashing her tongue.

  Christopher’s brow furrowed. “Do you want me to wash more than your back?”

  “Well...” Amber sighed, resigning herself to defeat, either way. “Of course, I do.”

  His smile was brilliant. “Then you are simply honest.” He curled his fingers in invitation.

  Amber took his hand, leaving the quilt behind. They walked to the bath, Christopher growing stiffer with each step.