"Well rested, you say," Edward repeated just before his lips took hers in a kiss more searing than the one at their wedding. His hands came up to cup her face-sending a tingling sensation down her spine-his fingers dug into the bottom of her pinned hair.
Against his lips, she moved hers-mirroring his movements. He backed her against the bed, and she gladly fell into the thick feather mattress.
He paused a moment to discard his dark dressing robe before climbing into the bed with her.
Then, his hands and lips were all over her again. He kissed her lips, then moved to her cheeks, and then down to her jaw. His fingertips sank into the bottom of her hair and twined within the locks. Unsure what else to do with her hands, but refusing to just rest them at her sides, she placed them on his shoulders. Though the layer of his nightshirt separated her bare hands from his bare shoulders, she could feel the heat of his skin against her hands. She squeezed and kneaded his muscles, encouraging him to continue with his kisses and touches. Oh what a wanton she'd become!
His hands left her hair and went to her sides. The fabric of her dratted nightgown was so thick she couldn't place exactly where his hands were, just that they were grabbing handfuls of the heavy fabric and raising them.
A moment later, the cool air of the room caressed her leg, followed shortly by her husband's warm hand. He slid his palm up her calf to her knee. Her skin prickled with awareness. His hand caressed her thigh and she bent her knee and let her leg fall to the side. His other hand soon blazed the same path up her other leg, taking that side of her nightgown with it.
He released her gown and stopped kissing her neck. "Regina," he whispered shifting his body on top of hers. "This might be a little late, but do you know what to expect?"
The uncertainty filling his voice made her heart squeeze. "Yes," she said more to reassure him than her. Frankly, everything her aunt had told her to expect: painful squeezing, sloppy kissing, the counting ceiling tiles until it was over had been untrue; replaced instead with gentle touches, warm kisses that made her skin tingle and the shameful yearning for it never to end.
"Good." He rolled to his side, supporting his weight on his forearm, then rearranged his nightshirt in a way that allowed his thick, hair-roughened thighs to press against hers. "I'll make this part quick," he promised.
Not too quick, Regina hoped. Perhaps it was because Edward loved her or she was just truly a wanton, but she was actually enjoying his attentions and didn't want them to be over quickly.
A second later, she wasn't so sure anymore.
Panic built in her chest as something firm and thick pressed against her most sensitive areas. "Ed-ward," she choked.
"It'll be over in just a second," he whispered as his lips pressed a kiss against her ear.
Regina tried to nod. But this foreign, uneasy sensation had her full attention.
Then, as he'd said, he'd moved forward and whatever he'd been doing was done.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
Swallowing, Regina lifted one shaking hand to his sweat-dampened forehead and used her fingers to sweep back a lock of blond hair that had fallen into his eyes. She smiled at him. That last part hadn't been the most enjoyable activity she'd ever endured, but all of it combined certainly wasn't as bad as Aunt Florence had hinted it would be. "Of course, I'm all right."
"Good," he said, his voice ragged. He dropped his lips to the V of her nightgown at the top of her chest and brought his hands up to her shoulders, then started moving on top of-and inside of-her.
Stunned, she lay still. Didn't he just finish whatever he'd been doing? Why was he still touching her this way? And why did it not hurt like it had a moment ago?
Closing her eyes to block out everything except the way she felt as he touched her thus, she bit her lower lip and grasped onto his shoulders.
An odd yet enjoyable sensation developed in her abdomen and sparked each time his body pressed into her.
Above her, Edward's breathing increased as did his grip on her shoulders. She opened her eyes and locked gazes with him. His blue eyes were wide and dark-intense. His fingers squeezed her shoulders just a hint tighter then relaxed as an unfamiliar noise escaped his lips and his shoulder muscles tensed.
His movements slowed and the stiff muscles under her fingers relaxed. Wordlessly, Edward leaned down and pressed a row of kisses from her forehead down along the ridge of her nose then to her mouth.
She kissed him back then waited while he backed away enough to separate their bodies. He then rolled to his side and pulled both of their garments down to cover their intimate areas.
"I hope I didn't hurt you," he said hoarsely.
"You didn't." She moved closer to him.
"Good. Dare I ask if you found it to be enjoyable?"
A heated blush stole over Regina. "You may ask, but I shan't tell."
He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and placed his right hand on her abdomen, slowly bunching up the fabric of the gigantic nightgown. "Perhaps we'll have to do it again, then."
She shivered at the thought. "Is it possible to do that more than once in a night?"
The low rumble of laughter in his chest was his only response.
Embarrassment washed over her. "What I meant was that my aunt never said you'd want to do it more than once in a night." She closed her mouth with a sharp snap. That hadn't come out right. Moreover, no bridegroom wanted to think of his new bride's aunt on his wedding night. Of that, she was certain.
He placed a warm kiss just behind her earlobe. "She didn't mention that? How remiss of her," he murmured between kisses. "It seems she may have been ill-informed about something, then."
Regina yawned. "No. I don't think she was ill-informed. I just don't think she loved her husband, or he her."
"Oh?" Edward's soft voice in her ear sent a blanket of warmth over her.
Sleep's welcoming respite was calling her and she snuggled closer to her husband. "It's different for me than it was for her, I suppose," she murmured, closing her eyes.
Edward idly ran the pad of his thumb back and forth across the side of her hand. The action was oddly comforting to her. "How so?"
Too overtaken with exhaustion to think about exactly what she'd said or what Edward had meant, she said, "She had an arranged marriage and I have a love match."
***
Regina's words hit him like a punch to the face. A love match? What made her think that?
Blood thundered in his ears. It didn't take a clever scientist such as himself to solve the riddle. Someone-either Mr. Harris or Mrs. Lowry-had lied to Regina about the circumstances of their marriage.
"That no good coward," he said under his breath.
He released his breath and gazed down at Regina. She truly was innocent in all of this. He'd enjoyed her company the day they'd met. But to know that she hadn't even known about their betrothal agreement in the first place and had been misled to believe that he was asking for her hand out of love infuriated him.
He let his eyes wander over her sleeping form. Was her belief that he loved her the reason she'd been so excited to see him at the wedding? And what of her? Did she love him? A lead weight settled on his chest. Surely not. She couldn't love him. She just couldn't. They hardly knew each other. She couldn't love him, nor could she expect him to love her back; for if she did, she'd surely be crushed to learn that a love match was not an option for him. He'd seen the effects of so called "love matches". And frankly, they were not for him.
Heaving a heavy sigh, he rolled onto his back. Did it matter now? Was there anything that could be changed? The fact was, they were married and it didn't matter the circumstances of their marriage, did it?
He blew out another pent up breath and closed his eyes. A picture of his mother flashed in his mind. She was crying-as was usual for her. Father had said or done something she didn't like and it'd reminded her that she could have married the Italian count she'd fallen in love with if not for family duty.
He opened his eyes to rid himself of the memory only to then be reminded of his father. A man utterly destroyed over that erroneous feeling known to some as love.
Regina would likely be the same way: destroyed and lost. Did he want that life for either of them? Did he want to have a wife always in vapors because she'd had an arranged marriage rather than a love match? And what about her? Did she deserve to be devastated that way? How humiliating it would be for her to learn everything she believed about their marriage was false?