The Passion of Darius Page 5

  “Mrs. Rourke, you are a vision of loveliness, and I find myself jealous of my cousin’s good fortune,” Alex complimented with admiration. “And I can see by the way he glares at me that Darius will be the possessive sort when it comes to you.”

  “Thank you for honoring us this day, Lord Verlaine.” Marianne blushed as she thanked Alex, looking so very delectable Darius felt his mouth begin to water.

  “Cousin, you are as astute as you are annoying, but correct as ever. My wife is loveliness personified, it’s true, and I am possessive of her. I’ll readily admit to both of your observations.” He drew her hand up to his lips and kissed it reverently. “I cannot help any of it,” he whispered while looking into her eyes, not caring who saw him.

  “Apparently so, Darius.” Alex chuckled wryly. “You read as an open book. But I am happy for you both and wish you all the best on your nuptials. You must bring yourselves to Orangewood soon, yes? When you desire for Town? I am sure Mrs. Rourke can find plenty of the London shops to her liking and she still must meet Gray. My brother sends his sincere regrets he could not come to celebrate the occasion of today.” Alex bowed deep. “Look for an invitation and I’ll not take no for an answer,” he reminded as he took his leave.

  Marianne embraced Byrony next. Promises of summer gatherings were made and accepted. Byrony’s father, Lord Rothvale, offered his congratulations. “You are blessed, Rourke, and I wish both of you every happiness together. Now, when you can bear to leave your lovely bride for an hour or two, I want you to come and see me and we’ll talk some more about getting you elected to Parliament. I know Verlaine can vouch for you, being family and all. You’d have the ready support of many. The Commons needs good men like you to take up the cause—”

  “Yes, my darling,” Lady Rothvale interrupted her husband with a smile and a gentle hand upon his arm. “I am sure Mr. Rourke has other things on his mind right now.” She turned to Marianne. “My dear, you are a most beautiful bride, and the both of you make a stunning couple. I knew you two were meant for each other on the day of the strawberry picnic. I said it wouldn’t be long before Marianne George got herself a new last name. Mr. Rourke had eyes only for you that day, and he still does. I daresay he made an excellent choice.”

  “Thank you for coming today, my lady,” Marianne answered, her face a mask of mysterious beauty, revealing nothing of her true feelings, yet suggesting their presence simmering just below the surface.

  It drove Darius mad with desire for her. He wanted to know the woman beneath the quiet, graceful exterior. He couldn’t wait to watch her face when she was lost to pleasure and coming undone in his arms as he made love to her, their skin melded together when he was buried inside her. How much longer?

  “Thank you, my lady, I can only agree with you on the excellence of my choice,” Darius answered politely, forcing himself to tamp down the lovely image of Marianne in flagrante delicto with him. All he could envision was her face as she lay on the blanket the day he’d taken her riding—the wild look, the surprise, the fire in her as she rode out that first climax under his fingers. He could remember how soft she had felt and would give just about anything to be back there right now. God, he was going to die right here in front of all these people, mad with lust for his beautiful bride! How much longer? Again, he shook off the visions creeping into his mind to attend to the guests in his home. Upon their departure, the Rothvales exacted a promise to attend them soon for dinner.

  On and on the well-wishing went. They both kept smiling and thanking the guests for their attendance. All Darius really wanted was to pull Marianne into the closest room with a locking door and commence with the wedding night, but he couldn’t do that of course. He had to maintain decorum and stand patiently by her luscious side, growing hungrier as the minutes ticked by.

  Mr. George was the last to go. Mercifully he had maintained some sobriety for the occasion, but the haunted look in his eyes told Darius his new father-in-law would hit the bottle the second he was out the door.

  With tears in his eyes, he faced his daughter. “You are the image of your mamma, lass. She would have been overjoyed this day.” He took both of Marianne’s hands, his whole body shaking. “Be happy, Marianne, with your husband. He’ll care for you well.” He looked to Darius and then back to Marianne. A wistful look came over him, and he seemed far away in his memories. “I just wish your mamma was here…and also your—” Mr. George cut himself off abruptly, attempting dignity for once, kissed her forehead, nodded to Darius, and made his escape.

  The relief they both felt was palpable in the room. But Darius knew it was for very different reasons. Darius guessed Marianne felt relief knowing she had saved her father from ruin, and he was more than happy to give her that. Darius was relieved because his gamble had paid off—he’d gotten his prize. She belonged to him now. His dream was about to become reality.

  DARIUS stopped them at the door after escorting her upstairs to the bedchamber. “I’ll come to you in an hour. Your new maid will help you get ready,” he said, his voice thick with suggestion.

  Nodding in agreement, she couldn’t help lowering her eyes. Understanding him precisely, Marianne knew why he was coming back and what she needed to be ready for. He had rights to her now, and he would definitely apply them without hesitation. Rights to take her to bed, make her his wife in every way.

  “Look at me, Marianne.” The command relieved her for some reason, and when she lifted her eyes she found Darius smiling down at her. “You’ve made me very happy. I just want you to know that. And you were such a gorgeous bride in your dress today. I am a fortunate man. You know, I’ll no longer be just ‘Mr. Rourke.’ I imagine from now on there’ll be an addendum whenever my name is mentioned. I’ll forever be known as, ‘Mr. Rourke, you know, that man with the beautiful wife.’”

  “Oh, Darius,” she whispered up to him, “that’s a lovely compliment, but I don’t think so.”

  He took both of her hands into his. “I absolutely know it is so. You are so lovely, and now you’re mine.” He leaned in to kiss her, a gentle brush of lips on lips, and then he swept them down to her palms, kissing first one, and then the other. “An hour, Marianne.” He said it darkly, his eyes flashing, hovering over her hands. A moment later he was gone, leaving her alone to prepare herself for him.

  Her new maid, Martha, was efficient in getting Marianne ready for Darius. Martha carefully helped her out of the palest blue silk gown Marianne had chosen for her wedding dress. As Martha took the elegant gown to put it away, Marianne thought about Darius. My husband.

  After Martha left the room, Marianne had time to contemplate what would happen when Darius returned to claim her. Their encounter outdoors on the blanket a few days ago was still fresh in her mind. He’d touched and kissed much of her already. He’d given her pleasures, glorious feelings she wanted again, but frightened her, too.

  Darius was going to do more with her tonight. He had made that fact very clear. This was their bargain though. He’d married her, and saved her father. In return he would have her body however he wanted, whenever he wanted. And she would have to submit to his demands.

  Yes, submit to him.

  Marianne was learning there was great pleasure to be had in submission. In granting that power to another. In giving herself to the person who commanded mastery over her. It was so simple. Freeing. The act of submitting freed her from her sin.

  She expected Darius to be demanding—it was his way—but he never made her feel like she was doing anything distasteful. He was a mysterious and complicated man. Darius didn’t just make her do things; he made her want to do them. And there was a very big difference in that.

  Even so, Marianne’s anxiety increased steadily until she was nearly quivering on the bed, waiting for her new husband to come and make her a woman. It wasn’t fear of him really; it was more a fear of the unknown. The way he looked at her was overwhelming at times. So needful for a man. Powerful and needful—both, at the same time. It was the pow
er Darius wielded in compelling her, mixed with that raging need of his, which was so entrammeling.

  Help me to get through this…

  STEPPING into the bedroom, Darius thrilled at the sight of his bride. She sat on her knees near the side of the bed, her hair down the way he loved it. She waited for him.

  She’s waiting for me to fuck her.

  He could see that she trembled, and the sight pulled at his heart. As much as he desired her, Darius didn’t care for her to be frightened. He wanted her to need him, not be afraid of him.

  She lifted her eyes when she heard him come in. Their gaze locked, and he could clearly see how unsettled she was. He wanted to rush over and gather her up. The urge to protect was strong, but as soon as he moved, Marianne bolted up from the bed, looking ready to run. He stopped and cocked an eyebrow. “Marianne?”

  She answered him with nervous breaths. The thin silk of her nightdress rose and fell with the movement of her breasts as she breathed.

  Godsblood, she was stunning! The need to get next to her, to know her, to take what was his, pounded at him. But he reminded himself he’d be careful. He had no intentions of ravaging her innocence. Darius knew she’d be soothed if he could touch her and get her into his arms. He started forward again.

  She took a quick step back, her eyes flashing wildly now.

  He froze at the sight of her panting.

  She is afraid.

  Realizing he’d frightened her sent a bolt of pain into his heart. Desire for her notwithstanding, Darius hated to scare her. He knew he had to tread carefully. He wasn’t going to chase her around the room, for God’s sake. Things just weren’t going to be like that between them.

  “Are you afraid of me, Marianne?”

  She shook her head, but he wasn’t convinced.

  “Are you frightened of what will pass between us?”

  A little gasp escaped, and then she turned her face away.

  “You were so beautiful sitting there on the bed waiting for me. I’ve longed for this moment with you for what feels like forever.”

  She grew very still, and he could tell she was listening to his words.

  “You’re my wife now, and I want to be with you. This is as it should be. Come to me, Marianne.”

  She snapped her eyes back to his.

  “Walk to me, Marianne, to your husband. I want to hold you and kiss you. I’ve done that before, and it gave you pleasure. Remember? Don’t you want to feel that pleasure again?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, barely audible.

  “Then come here.” He held out his arms, but didn’t take a step. The victory would be in getting her to come to him. He thought he was close to his goal. She was wavering. “Come to me, bella.” He waggled his fingers.

  She took a step toward him.

  He smiled at her. “You are so good, Marianne. You always do that which you are supposed to do, don’t you?” He kept his arms out and his voice gentle as she took another tentative step.

  She came forward.

  “That’s it, my beauty. Come into my arms.”

  He relished the view of her as she took slow steps toward him. The sway of her breasts brushing against the silk of her gown made his cock lurch. He wanted his mouth on her breasts. He wanted to see the perfection of them, feel the weight against his palm, to suck and lick and kiss them as he buried himself deep inside her.

  When she got within the circle of his arms he drew her in. Her soft curves aligned along his body. Pure heaven. He breathed in the violet scent and held it.

  She leaned her head into his chest and exhaled shakily.

  Speaking softly, he said, “See how easy that was? And now here you are, in my arms, where you’re supposed to be.” He brought his hands around to cradle her face. “Look up at me. You want to. You’ll see just how much I need you, my Marianne.”

  She lifted her face up to him. Seeing the blue of her eyes was an exhilarating sight—the perfect surrender to his command. Raw desire rolled off Darius like a crashing wave. He wondered if she could feel it emanating from every part of him. It was finally happening. She belonged to him now, and he could act on all of those things he’d dreamed of doing with her. No holding back. Not anymore.

  Dipping his head to meet her lips, his hand moved to the back of her head, pulling her into him. The fire ignited the instant their lips touched, shaking Darius to the bone. The need to enter her screamed in his brain. Get inside her body in some way. In any way. His tongue pushed through her lips, mimicking the stroking his cock would soon be doing.

  He ached for her terribly, ached to fill her up, to get in her deep and close. He’d told her what would happen before, and now he knew she waited for it. She’d become nervous and wary while she waited, and that was no good. He kissed her slowly and reverently, his tongue moving between her lips, urging her to flower open for him. Darius longed for Marianne, and the intensity of his desire nearly overpowered him. But he forced control of his raging lust. He needed to keep himself in check so as not to frighten her again. He was determined to initiate her carefully.

  “Come here. Sit.” He drew her to the bed and onto his lap, kissing deeply as he settled her into position. Her sweet, trembling warmth was intoxicating pressed against him. His cock was hard before, but now throbbed painfully under his robe. It was a challenge to hold back, but he forced himself to take it slow.

  “Do you feel how hard I am? You do it to me,” he breathed, rocking his cock up underneath her.

  She whimpered in response, quivering in his arms.

  “Shhh, you’re all right. You feel so good on me.” Gripping low on her back, he stroked through the silk nightgown. He felt her breaths increase to panting, matching her shaking.

  “You’re not afraid, Marianne. Not of me. I’d never hurt you. I will always protect and keep you safe. You know I only want you to be happy.” He bent to graze at her neck, all the while keeping up the pressure of slowly grinding his cock into her. “I’m taking away your nightdress. I want to see all of you and kiss every part of your beautiful body. You want that don’t you? Tell me that you do.”

  “Yessss.”

  “Say the words. I must hear the words come from your lips.”

  “I want you to kiss me…all over, Darius.”

  “Of course you do, sweet Marianne.”

  Darius found the hem of her gown, lifted it over her head, and tossed it away. He set her off his lap, taking in a deep breath.

  God!

  Marianne rested on bent elbows at her sides, her long legs crossed at the ankle. Darius could not speak—just wanted to touch and taste and see. Carnal, animal urges to crush her down on the sheets and fuck her wildly were controlled with effort.

  Not this time. He couldn’t hurt or terrify Marianne. She was too precious.

  His hands started moving over her of their own free will. They cupped her breasts, lifting and drawing them together, learning their shape and weight.

  “You’re an angel, so beautiful and soft. You please me so much.” He tweaked a nipple with two fingers and watched it pucker beautifully. “I want this in my mouth.” Pressing her all the way down onto the bed, he whispered to her through kisses trailing over heated flesh and got his wish.

  She moaned when he suckled her.

  “Do you like my mouth on you?”

  “Yessss.”

  He found and covered her other tight nipple, rolling the bud under his tongue, eliciting more soft cries out of her. Even so, she was still agitated and uneasy. He sensed anxiety from her and knew exactly what she needed.

  “Marianne, I am going to help you. Let you feel safe while I make love to you. You want me to do it because it is what you need. I give you what you need, don’t I?”

  “Yes, you do, Darius.”

  “I am going to tie up your hands. You want me to tie up your hands. You want it because you know you’ll like the way it makes you feel. You’ll feel secure, Marianne.”

  Taking the silk sash from his robe, h
e secured her wrists together, above her head, to the bed. He was pleased to find the restraint had an immediate calming effect upon her. She lost the stiffness and softened under his hands. Feeling her ease into submission, he returned to pressing wet kisses to her straining breasts, sucking harder in places, marking them with love bites.

  He dragged his tongue down further, burning a trail to her navel, where he explored with just the tip of his tongue pushed into the tiny opening. He felt her shiver in reaction. Sweeping on, he kept going to the place he desired above all others.

  “Open your legs. I want to see you…and I want to taste you.”

  She flung her face to the side and shook it. “I cannot do that,” she mumbled, shaking her head some more.

  “Yes you can…and you will, Marianne.” He turned her face from the side, forcing her to look at him once more. “Do it. Open.”

  He sat back and waited.

  “You’re going to be beautiful, and I want to see all of you.”

  The silence in the room grew thunderingly loud as he waited.

  “Marianne, you want to do this. I know you do. You want to open yourself up for me. You will do it…for me.”

  She looked at him, and he saw it. He saw the expression in her eyes, and he knew. Darius knew the instant Marianne gave in to him—decided to submit and do his bidding. Darius felt his blood pounding in his head, his chest, and his cock. Everywhere. Nearly out of his blessed mind with desire for this woman, he waited for her to show him.

  Her bound wrists thrust her breasts up, the nipples wound in tight buds. The weight of gravity pulled each mass slightly off center and to the sides of her rib cage. Darius stared, waiting, anticipating, dying. He felt the pounding blood thundering his heart in such magnitude his whole body moved with the beat of his essence. He sucked in a gulp of air.

  She began to move. Slowly, Marianne bent first one knee and then the other. Her legs parted… Oh, sweet Christ!