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| Cover of 'First Blush' |
“Maria,” he called. “I asked you to turn around,” his smooth voice gently reminded. Even though I had my back to him, I could tell he was smiling.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I braced myself. This was not simply about facing him, it was about facing my future. A future that would require me to become an obedient, dutiful wife. A future in which Thomas would have possession of me, of my body. Tearing my eyes from the bedclothes, I twisted my head towards him, as if in slow motion.
He smiled, as he lent against the closed door. “Have I told you how beautiful you look?” he asked, pushing his weight onto his feet and taking a step towards me. “Well,” he continued, not waiting for a reply. “You are incredibly beautiful.”
For reasons I could not explain, I was unable to hold his gaze and my eyes darted to the floor. It was not as though I had never heard those words from him before. Now, however, they were imbued with something more; these words were an opening gambit in a game I was unfamiliar with. Oh, I understood the mechanics of what was about to happen. My sister, who had married two years previously, shared the secrets of her own wedding night when my marriage to Thomas was announced. She warned me that the first time he entered me would be painful, but assured me that it would be over quickly.
What troubled me, was not the fear of discomfort, but the fact that the act was clearly an indication of dominance; a man claiming his wife as his property. Elizabeth did not articulate this, but it seemed implicit to me, by the very fact that a woman is quite literally impaled by her husband. Every rebellious instinct indicated that I should be disgusted by the notion of being dominated and possessed by any man. However, the thought of Thomas doing so, created a quivering sensation between my legs that belied my desire to reject accepting him as my lord and master.
“It is going to be all right,” his calm voice nudged, as I continued to examine the patterned carpet at my feet. “Tell me something,” he said, suddenly changing his tone from the soft, lover’
s voice to a lighter, conversational quality. “Is this the Maria I am going to be married to for the rest of my days?”
My eyes lifted to see him unbuttoning the black tailcoat he wore and shrugging it from his shoulders.
“What do you mean?” I asked, raising my left eyebrow quizzically, a habit my mother had been unable to deter me from.
“I thought I had married a headstrong, passionate, insatiably curious, fiercely wilful woman,” he explained, throwing the tailcoat over the back of a nearby armchair. “Suddenly, she has turned into a shy, introverted mute.” His eyes sparkled, as they met mine and his lips rose into a broad beam. “It is perfectly natural to be nervous,” he added.
“I am not nervous,” I snapped, scowling in response to his grin.
“I know,” he replied quickly, holding up his right hand in surrender. “But it would be understandable if you were,” he spoke carefully, and placed a very deliberate emphasis on the ‘
if’. “I must confess,” he said quietly, allowing his eyes to drift from my face to my feet. “I am a little nervous.”
“You are?” I asked incredulously.
“Excuse me?” he responded in kind, stepping closer to me. “I see, because I am a man, I am supposed to approach this as if it were of no consequence?”
“Well, I just…” I stammered, unable to form a proper response and hating the fact that he seemed to enjoy keeping me off balance.
His creased brow soon gave way, as he proved incapable of preventing the smile from returning to his face. “Maria, my darling,” he whispered taking one final step, until we were just inches apart. “Tonight is important, it means everything to me. Our souls have been joined since I laid eyes on you. Now, it is time for our bodies to follow suit.”
I felt a sudden rush of heat flood my cheeks and I fancied I dedicated a slight rosy hue to his face, but that could have been the brandy, rather than mild embarrassment.
“I want this night to be one that neither of us ever forgets,” he continued, folding his fingers around my right hand and squeezing it lightly. “So, yes, I am a little nervous.”
“Thomas,” I replied, unable to meet his eyes and settling instead for his white waistcoat. “I suppose I might be experiencing a small degree of nervousness,” I quietly and very reluctantly admitted.
His free hand came up to my chin and he tilted it upwards, until I could no longer avoid his gaze. “I love you,” he stated. “And we are going to have a long, disgustingly happy life together.” Slowly, as if he were afraid I might balk at any sudden motion, he brought his face down to mine.
If you'd like to read more, the ebook version of First Blush is available from Smashwords, Sony, Barnes and Noble, Apple and Diesel.
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