Bound by Bliss (Bound and Determined #2)(37)
She pushed off from his chest, turning her head to stare into his eyes. “I should not. I do intend to go to my marriage a virgin, despite what gossip may sometimes say, and I sense that pursuing such paths might endanger that.”
And she would be right about that, but given that he intended to wed her, he didn’t particularly care whether the marriage bed came before or after the ceremony. “What if I promised that we would do nothing you didn’t wish?”
“I am too smart to fall for that one. I am very aware that you can make me wish for anything. Just because I wanted to see inside Madame Rouge’s, to gratify my curiosity, did not mean I wanted another orgasm. When we snuck out this evening I was imagining that I’d be seeing some stuffy club and maybe sampling whiskey and a cigar. I never imagined that you’d take me someplace like this.”
“It was your request, my lady. Your demand, even. If I’d understood the true nature of your desires I would have taken you someplace where you could watch old men drink themselves into their cups while they played too many hands of whist and discussed the wars of their youths. I was only trying to make you happy—to show you that I had a bit of adventure in my boring soul.”
“Fine, I will admit you are not boring, not a dull don. Now perhaps you should take me home. It must be late.” Bliss attempted to slide both from his arms and from the bed.
“And have you learned to trust me? That was the main purpose of this adventure, was it not, for me to show you that I could be trusted with your desires?”
Her hesitation was palpable. “I would admit that you have not let me down in this. You have done all that you promised.”
He caught both her wrists and held her. “Then are you ready to trust me? Are you ready to wed me? Would I be such a bad husband? I have already proved that you can wrap me about the smallest of your fingers and make me allow you to do things no sane man would.”
Her lips quirked to the side. “I am not sure that insanity is better than dullness in a marriage, although perhaps as I am a Danser it is the expected thing. Is it enough if I say that I would consider you for marriage? It is far too early for me to decide whether I prefer you to other men.”
“I think our kisses and such demonstrate that you prefer me to other men.” There were some things he was quite confident about.
“I am not yet ready to concede that point. I have only kissed a few men, and most of them were boys. And while I might be willing to concede that your kisses were the best, I think neither that I have enough experience or that kisses alone are a good foundation for marriage. I have seen many marriages where I doubt the kisses have lasted beyond the wedding trip.”
He could not argue with that, but he was damned if he’d let her go about kissing other men. “If you don’t think kisses—and I am assuming we are talking about a little more than kisses—matter that much, then why do you need a further sample?”
“I didn’t say kisses were unimportant, just that they were not the only thing on which to base a marriage. I would hate to marry a man who was slovenly, for instance, although marrying one who was too neat would also be awful. I am not neat, not at all, but I am not dirty. I merely shed. I can never seem to remember to put things back where they came from. My maid despairs of me. Could you handle a slovenly wife?”
“I would prefer not to, but by your own words you are not slovenly, merely a little careless perhaps. And yes, I do believe that I could live with that, though I might find the need to punish you for it occasionally. I do prefer my chamber to be neat and if you were to share it…” His voice deepened as he spoke of punishment. He felt the erection that had only gradually subsided swell to life again. He might have managed to control himself if not for the flush that marked her cheeks whenever he said the word “punishment,” for the darkening of her pupils, and that small gasp that escaped her lips.
“You’d punish me for not being tidy?” Her voice quavered as she spoke, but her breathing grew fast and the flush grew more pronounced. She was not frightened by the idea, no not at all.
“Would you deserve to be punished?”
A quick intake and then a slow exhale. “I don’t know.” She looked away and he could feel her mixture of excitement and anxiety. “I am not sure I like all your talk of punishment. I do know I want a marriage where I do not feel controlled. I want a husband who will be concerned with my needs, with what I want.”
His voice lowered. “Oh, pet, I can promise to be very concerned with your needs. Although I am afraid that there will be times when I will very much wish to control you, and when I will be quite sure that you will like it.”
Her eyes came back to his and a deep flush rose up her chest. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“I know only what you tell me.” Reclining back on the large bed, he let her slide away. “Or show me.” His gaze fastened upon the breasts that he had yet to see in full light. He had played with them and pinched them, brought her to ecstasy with his touch, but so far they had been withheld from his vision.
“Rubbish,” she said, turning to put her feet on the floor, and then stepped away to look for the cloak and mask that had been tossed on a chair when he entered the chamber.
“Are you leaving?” he asked.
“Yes.”