Rebellious Desire

Chapter Ten

It was a beautiful wedding, at least that was what everyone kept telling Caroline as she stood in the reception line next to the man she had just exchanged vows with, the man she had just promised to love and cherish until death did one of them part.

Caroline was thankful that the ordeal was finally over. She had given up fighting the inevitable the day before, when she, Charity, and her father had traveled to Bradford Hills. It had been decided that the wedding would take place there so that tradition would continue. Bradford's father, grandfather, and great-grandfather had all been married in the mansion.

Bradford had seen to all the arrangements while Charity and the earl had taken care of the announcements and invitations. Now, as she glanced around the beautiful ballroom, Caroline was amazed that it had all gone so well. Everyone looked immensely pleased. Everyone but Caroline. She was still having difficulty sorting it all out.

Bradford had placated her father the night of their encounter, and the next morning the earl had announced that he was thrilled with the match. Caroline tried to point out that there wasn't going to be any match but her father absolutely refused to listen to reason. She remembered that he had asked her if she loved Bradford and she had been foolishly honest enough to admit that she did, and from that moment on, he turned deaf to her arguments.

There wasn't anyone she could turn to for help. And Charity drove her to distraction. Caroline wasn't allowed out of the house and therefore couldn't escape her attention.

Madam Newcott and three jittery seamstresses worked night and day on her wedding gown, right there in the house, and Bradford had employed two burly-looking men to see to her protection. Caroline's father never commented on it and she wondered what he was thinking. She wasn't at all convinced that the guardians were there solely to see to her protection either. She wouldn't put it past Bradford to instruct them to keep her from running away. The thought had entered her mind, and she fantasized about returning to Boston more than once. Life had certainly been less complicated then.

Caroline hadn't met Bradford's mother until she was settled in the magnificent home called Bradford Hills. She was in the bedroom assigned to her, changing for dinner, when a dignified woman entered. She was taller than Caroline and elegantly dressed and walked with the bearing of royalty.

Caroline hastily pulled a robe from the closet, put it on, and then tried for a dignified curtsy while the duchess studied her.

"Are you carrying his child?" the duchess asked with such briskness in her voice that Caroline was jarred by it.

"No." Caroline didn't elaborate. If Bradford's mother was rude enough to ask such a question, then she would return the rudeness.

The two stared at each other for a long minute. Caroline noticed that the woman's eyes were the same color as Bradford's. She had deep wrinkles around the comers, telling Caroline that she was a woman who smiled often.

"Don't let him cower you," the duchess decreed. She sat down in one of the stuffed chairs and motioned for Caroline to take the other.

"I've never cowered in my life," Caroline remarked as she sat down across from her soon-to-be mother-in-law. "I'm not sure I even know how."

"He always was impatient. When he settles on something, he wants to see it through immediately."

Caroline nodded. The briskness in the woman's voice no longer offended her and she found herself smiling. "He's not only impatient," Caroline said, "but overbearing and arrogant as well. I think that you should know we're ill-suited for each other."

The duchess smiled, seemingly unaffected by Caroline's honesty. "You actually don't want to marry him?" she asked.

"He doesn't love me," Caroline acknowledged very matter-of-factly. "And he doesn't trust me. A sad start, wouldn't you agree? Perhaps, if you would speak to him, he might reconsider?"

"Nonsense, child. He obviously wants you or he wouldn't marry you. My son never does anything he doesn't want to do. It's up to you to make him love you, not that it is really necessary."

"To love isn't necessary?" Caroline asked, showing her confusion.

"It's a solid match, that's the important thing," the duchess returned.

She stood up then and walked over to the door. "I believe my son has chosen well." And with that pronouncement, she left the room.

"Caroline! Are you daydreaming on your wedding day?" Charity was pulling on her arm to gain her attention. "Only think of it, you are a duchess now."

Caroline wasn't aware that Bradford had turned from his conversation to hear Charity's enthusiastic remark. She shook her head and replied, "No, I'm Bradford's wife first. That is quite enough to deal with now."

Bradford smiled, pleased with her comment. Milford appeared, making a formal bow before Caroline, and took hold of her hand. The sapphire ring that Bradford had placed on her finger glittered in the candlelight, drawing Bradford's attention, and he felt a wave of satisfaction overtake him. The ring was proof that she belonged to him.

When Milford had finished with his congratulations, he said, "Will you forgive me for breaking my promise?"

Caroline shook her head. "I won't. It was a dastardly thing to do and look where I have ended up because of it."

Milford didn't appear the least remorseful. "Tell me, what did you find so amusing when you were reciting your marriage vows?" he asked.

"If you're referring to the fact that my wife laughed her way through them, I can assure you it was because she was overcome with joy." Bradford's statement forced a reluctant smile from Caroline.

"I've a cheerful disposition," Caroline told Milford. She turned to her husband and added, "Unless, of course, I'm forced into a situation I have no control over. Then I can become quite contrary."

Bradford didn't react to her comment. He merely took hold of her hand and led her to the center of the ballroom. It was time to begin the dancing.

The rest of the evening was a blur to Caroline. She kept wishing for just a few minutes alone, just enough time to think one coherent thought, to catch her breath, but Bradford never left her side. And then it was time to go upstairs.

Charity assisted her. She had grown quiet and Caroline was thankful for it. Only after her bath was completed and she was dressed in a transparent white nightgown did Charity whisper the question that had been worrying her. "Do you understand what will happen, Caroline? Did Mama explain what a husband and wife do together?"

Caroline shook her head. "Mama would have fainted after the first sentence," she said.

Charity looked crestfallen. "Oh, then I'll have to wait until the next time I see you to find out exactly."

"Charity! Don't make me more nervous! Oh, why do we have to spend the night here?" she groaned. She thought about what was going to happen and then pictured facing everyone tomorrow. "They'll all know," she whispered.

"Don't be nervous," Charity stated. "If you laugh while… well, you know, then I think Bradford will become angry."

Before Caroline could comment, Charity hugged her and took her leave. "I'll pray for you," she whispered before closing the door.

Caroline stood in the center of the bedroom and waited. She thought about getting into bed but decided that hiding under the covers wouldn't do at all. Bradford might find that humorous, and she would die if he laughed at her.

The connecting door to Bradford's bedroom opened and he was suddenly standing there.

Bradford leaned against the doorway and looked at his wife. "She was so breathtakingly beautiful that his breath caught in his throat. The seductive gown Caroline wore left little to the imagination, and Bradford took his time admiring her long shapely legs, slender hips, and full breasts.

Caroline returned her husband's gaze. He had removed his jacket and his cravat and his hair fell forward, softening his features. His expression was guarded, and Caroline found him both irresistibly handsome and frightening. She wasn't nervous anymore, only terrified. She wished she hadn't cut her hair, thinking that the length of it might have covered part of her breasts. Would it be childish of her to grab the comforter from the bed and wrap it around herself?

She shivered and wasn't sure if it was because of the chill in the bedroom or her husband's intense scrutiny.

"Charity's praying for me," she heard herself say. Her voice was little more than a weak whisper, but she knew he heard her because his eyebrow lifted a fraction. And then he smiled, and Caroline wasn't terrified anymore.

She turned, trying to remember what she had done with her robe, when Bradford finally found his voice. "Don't be afraid, Caroline." He started walking toward her, his gaze tender.

"I'm not afraid, only freezing," Caroline returned. She tried to smile while she rubbed her arms. She was shaking now and couldn't seem to stop.

Bradford put his arms around her and hugged her. "Better?" he asked, his voice husky.

Caroline nodded. "You have a beautiful home, Bradford, but it's so cold," she whispered against his chest. "And drafty," she added when Bradford lifted her into his arms and started toward his room. "The fireplaces don't give sufficient heat." Lord, even as she blurted out the words, she wished she could stop herself. What was the matter with her? Caroline closed her mouth and determined not to say another word.

Bradford shut the door behind him, locked it, and then carried Caroline over to the bed. The covers on the gigantic four-poster were drawn back and Bradford placed her in the center. As soon as he released her, Caroline started trembling again.

"You'll be warm in a minute, love," Bradford promised. There was amusement in his voice and his eyes, and Caroline knew he was smiling because he thought she was shivering over what was about to happen. She gave him what she hoped was a disgruntled look. He definitely had the upper hand right now, and Caroline felt completely helpless. She thought, as she watched her husband divest himself of his shoes and shirt, that if she could just stop staring at him, she might be able to find a way to gain a little control. He was sitting on the side of the bed and Caroline wanted to reach out and touch him.

She remembered how his kisses had inflamed her in the past and how she had never wanted the touching to stop, and just thinking those thoughts released some of the fright.

Bradford stood up, started to take his breeches off, and then hesitated. He turned, giving Caroline a full view of his powerful chest. Curly black hair covered the sinewy strength. Caroline knew she stared, but couldn't help herself.

"You remind me of a Spartan warrior, did you know that?" Caroline blurted out. She noticed the scar right above his waistline then and asked, "Did you get that in a battle?"

"A brawl," Bradford corrected. He smiled and sat back down on the bed. He decided to leave his breeches on for the time being, out of deference for his innocent wife's feelings. She was as skittish as a new foal and he didn't want to frighten her any more than she already was. "Milford has an identical scar, although his is on the left side. Tokens of our first night on the other side of town."

"I'll have to ask him to show it to me," Caroline commented with a sparkle in her eyes. She was relaxing with the easy banter between them. Bradford acted as if he had all the time in the world, and the initial panic that had overtaken Caroline now receded. She felt almost in control again.

"You'll do no such thing," Bradford answered, his voice a low growl. "Best friend or not, he'd probably rip his clothes off with your first suggestion."

"You don't trust Milford?" Caroline's voice sounded incredulous.

Bradford didn't answer her. He was having enough difficulty trying to follow the conversation. His loins ached and all he could think about was taking his wife into his arms.

"I think I should warn you, Bradford…" Caroline began. She couldn't look at him and lowered her gaze to stare at her hands.

Bradford frowned, wondering over the serious tone in her voice. He reached out, cupped the sides of her face with his hands, and forced her to look at him.

"I'm not completely certain about the procedure… I'm not at all sure what I'm supposed to do."

Bradford nodded, trying his damnedest to keep his expression solemn. "I didn't expect you to be experienced," he said.

Caroline continued to look at him, her expression serious, but Bradford noticed that special sparkle was back. "I assume that you do know what to do?"

Bradford slowly nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and Caroline added, "I thought that you did, but you're just sitting there and you still have your breeches on and even I know that it's a necessary requirement to have them off."

He didn't answer her, but he did take her into his arms. He stretched out, taking her with him, and lowered his hands to her hips, pulling her firmly against him. "I thought to keep my pants on out of consideration for your innocent feelings."

"I don't think it will work," Caroline whispered against his neck.

Bradford began to stroke Caroline's back and nudged her head aside with his jaw so that he could place soft kisses on her neck. "What? My considerations or my pants?"

Caroline started to answer but his warm breath against her ear made her lose her train of thought. "You're making me warm," she whispered instead.

"Not good enough," Bradford told her. He rolled her over onto her back and covered her with his body.

"I want you hot, Caroline. So hot that your body glistens from the heat." His mouth covered hers then, in a kiss that promised fulfillment of his demand.

Caroline's lips parted under his and Bradford's tongue invaded her mouth, penetrating the sweet, soft interior. She sighed over the erotic feelings he created and began to slowly caress his shoulders. His skin felt so hard, so muscular, so incredibly warm.

Bradford kept up the tender assault against her mouth until Caroline couldn't form a single thought. She allowed the sensual waves of pleasure to consume her, heard herself moan in protest when he moved away from her. He stood up and quickly removed the rest of his clothing and Caroline thought he was the most beautiful man alive. He was so uninhibited by his nudity, so casual about it, that Caroline wasn't nearly as embarrassed as she thought she ought to be. Of course, she couldn't bring herself to look at him there, stopping just short of his muscular thighs.

Bradford continued to stand there, next to the bed, until Caroline finally looked at his face. She knew a blush covered her entire body and wished she could be a little more sophisticated about it all. After all, she had been raised on a farm, and knew the natural order of things! And she had four male cousins who were very relaxed about their dress and comments to one another… when they didn't realize she could hear them. But, she reminded herself, it had never happened to her. That, she decided as she stared at the man who would claim her virginity, was the distinct difference.

"Sweetheart, look at me." Bradford's voice was as powerful as his stance.

Caroline thought to answer that she was looking at him but she knew what he meant. She didn't say anything, but slowly lowered her gaze, following the curly trail of hair that covered his massive chest, pausing at his fiat stomach and then continuing on, until she was looking at the hard proof of his arousal. She became terrified all over again, thinking that the marriage couldn't possibly be consummated, and it was just as well, because they were so ill-suited for each other…

Bradford saw the panic in Caroline's eyes and sighed with patient hunger. He quickly settled himself next to her again, drew her into his arms. Caroline wanted his warmth. She could feel his arousal against her, felt the hard heat through her gown, and tried, without success, to pull away just a little. Bradford wouldn't allow her to move, whispering sweet words to soothe her as he began to slowly remove her nightgown.

Caroline knew it should come off, that it was probably another necessary requirement, but still tried to stop Bradford's hands. The flimsy material ripped during the gentle tug of war and Bradford had his way. Within seconds, she was stripped. "Charity gave me that gown," Caroline said with a gasp. "If she finds out that you have destroyed it…"

He rolled back on top of Caroline, causing her to gasp again from the intimacy of his body fully against hers, and from the passionate look in his eyes. He wasn't heavy, and she realized he braced himself with his elbows so that she wouldn't be crushed.

"We won't tell her, love," Bradford whispered. His voice felt like a gentle caress, a soothing stroke against Caroline's building fear.

He knew she wasn't ready and fought to control himself. His body screamed for completion and he felt the perspiration break out on his forehead. He kissed her again, an intense kiss that held nothing back. The easy banter was finished. Caroline felt the change in Bradford, the tightening of his hold, his touch. She braced herself against the pain but Bradford didn't force her legs apart. Instead, he lowered his head until his mouth was brushing against her neck, and then lower still, until he was nuzzling the valley between her breasts.

Caroline sighed with pleasure. The warm knot inside her stomach began to spread, and Caroline felt like the sun was flowing through her blood.

Bradford teased her breasts, circling each nipple again and again, until Caroline began to arch against him. When he finally began to suckle, Caroline moaned with satisfaction and a growing restlessness. His hand stroked her hip and the closer he moved to the junction of her legs, the hotter she became. She couldn't seem to breathe and moved her hips impatiently. When he finally began to stroke the moist heat, Caroline groaned her pleasure.

She was more than ready for him. The soft petals, sleek and wet, the slow, erotic motions of her hips against his hand, nearly drove Bradford over the brink. He slowly entered her with his fingers, felt the hot tight resistance, heard her moan his name, and knew then that he couldn't wait any longer.

He looked up, into her eyes, watching her, as he settled himself between her legs. "I won't hurt you," he whispered. "I can't wait any longer." His voice was harsh with need.

Bradford took hold of her hips, holding her still against him, and leaned down to kiss her. "Hold me, love," he whispered. And then his mouth was covering hers. He entered her forcefully, as forcefully as his tongue invaded her mouth.

Caroline arched against him, crying out in pain, and then tried to pull away. It was a futile effort because her husband would not allow her to move. He used his weight now to keep her prisoner. The stinging pain was immediately done with but the throbbing discomfort continued. Caroline tore her mouth from Bradford's and tried again to push him away. "Don't move, Caroline. Not yet. Give it time to" He never finished his thought but concentrated instead on kissing her again. His hands left her hips to cup the sides of her tear-stained face. Caroline felt him tremble when she put her arms around him and thought that the pain wasn't so unbearable after all. Then Bradford began to move, slowly and patiently at first, and the pain immediately reclaimed her.

He wouldn't be deterred and kept up his loving assault against her lips until she was breathless. The pain was soon forgotten in the slumberous pleasure invading her limbs. She felt him place her legs around his hips and then he lifted his mouth from hers and looked at her. Caroline reached up and touched the edge of his jaw, traced the firm mouth with one finger. Bradford turned, taking her finger into his mouth, stroked the side with his tongue. Caroline arched against him, cupped the sides of his face, and pulled him down to her. It was the last thing she remembered doing.

Bradford lost his control completely then, allowing the passion to flow between them. Primal pleasure overwhelmed Caroline, pulling her into the sun. She clung to Bradford, instinctively trusting him to keep her safe, and welcomed the heat.

Bradford's breathing was harsh. He was no longer gentle in his lovemaking; his strokes were powerful and the pleasure increased. When Caroline tensed beneath him and called his name in a frightened whisper, he knew she was about to find release from the sweet torment they shared.

She arched against him with such force, such intensity, that Bradford found his release, felt the tremors all the way into his soul. He thought to soothe her, tell her it was all right, but the tremor was so overwhelming that he could only hold her close.

It took several minutes for Bradford to slow his racing heart, calm his ragged breathing. He was so content, so incredibly satisfied. Still inside her, he leaned up on his elbows and looked at Caroline. Her eyes held a sleepy, satisfied look. A violet-eyed kitten, Bradford decided with a grin. And she was his kitten.

Caroline tried to slow her pulse. She was so astounded by what had just happened to her. Her lips felt swollen from his kisses, and she still throbbed from the scorching pleasure Bradford had forced upon her. He hadn't allowed her to retreat, or to give half measure, and when she thought about her eager response, she felt herself blush.

Bradford grinned when he saw the embarrassment and shyness in his wife's expression. He kissed her lingeringly, smiling inside over her sudden timid response. Only minutes before she had been a wildcat in his arms. He could feel the sting from the grasp of her nails against his shoulders, remember the agonized pleas that he not stop when he thrust again and again inside her.

"Bradford, you are crushing me," Caroline announced against the side of his mouth.

He sighed and reluctantly rolled onto his side. The separation didn't last long, for Bradford immediately pulled Caroline into his arms, cradling her against him. He tenderly brushed a damp tendril off her forehead. "Did I hurt you, love?"

Caroline was nuzzling his neck, but she nodded in response to his question. Bradford tried to move her away enough to look into her eyes. "At first. The rest of it didn't hurt at all," she admitted. Her voice was a blur against his neck but Bradford heard the shyness in her tone.

"It?" he asked, his voice teasing. He relaxed his head against the top of hers and gave her an affectionate squeeze.

Caroline didn't answer. She smiled with contentment and sighed. "Will you want to do this very often?" she asked with feigned innocence.

She felt the rumble in his chest seconds before the sound of his laughter was released. And then she was suddenly trapped beneath him again and was staring into his brown eyes filled with golden chips. "Very often," he growled.

Caroline smiled, immensely pleased with herself. Her eyes widened with astonishment then for she felt his arousal against her. "Bradford? Can we…"

"Absolutely." His mouth claimed the rest of Caroline's questions. She put her arms around him and held him close, loving the feel of his chest against her breasts, his hardness against her softness. A sudden thought interfered with the erotic feeling and she tugged her mouth away.

"Will it hurt again?" she asked, her voice anxious.

"Probably," Bradford said. He leaned up, studied her face for a long moment, and then asked, "Will you mind?" He knew he would stop if she gave the least hint that she was too tender.

"Probably," Caroline answered. Then she pulled his head down to hers and kissed away all caution. The probablies were soon forgotten.

After Bradford had fallen into a deep sleep, Caroline drifted in and out of her own dreams. She wasn't used to sleeping with anyone and she accepted that as her excuse for the fitful tossing and turning. That, and the fact that she was feeling both tender and bruised.

The sun was just beginning its ritualistic climb into the sky when Caroline slipped out of bed and went into the adjoining room. She bathed from head to toe and put on a warm fleecy robe when she was done. The scent of roses clung to her body as she quietly made her way back to Bradford's sleeping form. She was wide awake now and wondered how long her husband would continue to sleep. Her robe got tangled up in the sheets and she finally discarded it.

It was snowing outside, and Caroline watched the tight cascade of flakes for several minutes. She sat up, her arms wrapped around her knees, and thought about Benjamin, wondered how he was dealing with the cold on his journey back to Boston. She worried over his safety and said a prayer for him. And then she felt Bradford's hand slowly moving up her back. She turned to look at him and smiled. "Did I wake you?" she whispered in apology. He looked intimidating to her because of the way he was watching her. She reached out with one hand to touch his face, felt the night's growth of whiskers on his cheeks.

"What were you thinking about?" Bradford asked. He stretched and then clasped his hands behind his head with a big yawn.

The intimidation vanished with the lazy stretch and Caroline thought he looked rather tike a huge bear. "I was thinking about Benjamin," she answered. "He must be freezing his coat off about now."

"Among other things," Bradford returned. "He wanted to leave, and he was needed back in Boston, love. His job was done here."

"And how do you know that?" Caroline asked. "I had a long talk with your protector before he left," Bradford told her.

Caroline smiled over his comment that Benjamin was her protector. "We protected each other," she said. "He is my friend."

"He told me how you met," Bradford admitted. He grinned, that lopsided half-smile that tugged at Caroline's heart, caused her pulse to miss a beat.

"Benjamin doesn't easily talk to anyone. I'm surprised that he confided in you." She frowned, wondering just how Bradford had convinced Benjamin.

"I told him I was going to marry you and that I would see to your protection," Bradford replied, inadvertently answering her unspoken question.

"That was very arrogant of you," Caroline said.

Bradford wasn't put off by her remark. He rolled to his side, kicking the covers off, and began to nibble on Caroline's hip.

Caroline jumped and tried to slap his face away. She laughed while she told him that he wasn't being very proper, but the laughter died when she saw that he was aroused again. "Bradford, I'm too tender still. You're going to have to"

"Make love to you a different way," Bradford finished.

Caroline turned until she was on her knees and frowned at her husband. His gaze was hot and extremely lustful. He took his time looking at her breasts, the nipples erect in instinctive anticipation, the tiny waist and slender hips, enjoying her nudity with a look filled with promise.

She shook her head when he crooked his finger and said."

"Come here, Caroline. It won't hurt this time, I promise."

"That's what you said last time," Caroline muttered when he reached up and pulled her down on top of him. "Bradford, I really am sore," she said.

Her voice was fretful and Bradford hurried to soothe her. "There are endless ways to make love, Caroline. Relax," he whispered, stroking her back.

Caroline wasn't at all sure what Bradford was telling her. She leaned up and gave him a disgruntled look, letting him know that she didn't believe him. He kissed the frown from her face while he caressed her backside.

The leisurely kisses were soon unsatisfactory and the intensity, the hotness of his simmering hunger, exploded into raw passion. Bradford's mouth was relentless as he ravished his wife, forced her resistance away. He pushed her onto her back and then lowered his head to worship her straining breasts.

Caroline's fingers threaded their way through Bradford's soft, silky hair. She tried to roll closer to her husband but his leg locked her against the bed, keeping her still. And then he was moving lower, bathing a scorching path with his hot kisses, his velvet tongue.

She didn't realize his intent until his knee had forced her legs apart and his hands held her steady. His fingers slipped into the satiny petals, stroking and petting, until she was moist and sleek with arousal. His mouth replaced his fingers and he was heedless to Caroline's startled pleas to stop.

The pleasure was excruciatingly sweet. Caroline's hips began to move in a slow, lethargic motion. She gripped the sheets with her hands, and her head moved with the same restlessness against the pillow as her hips moved against Bradford's magic.

When she thought she could bear the building ecstasy no longer, the heat inside her exploded into a thousand fragments. She arched in surrender and heard herself call his name.

Bradford had thought only to pleasure her, to show her the heights he could make her touch, and he had to fight the powerful urge to thrust himself into her beckoning warmth. She was so tight, so hot, and her passionate response to him nearly bested his good intentions.

He took a deep breath, quieting his trembling body, and pulled away from her. He forced himself to think of something other than the sensual creature beside him, vowing with a fierce growl not to take her.

Caroline sat up, her gaze still lazy with passion. Her hand stroked Bradford's thigh in slow circles and she was surprised when he grabbed her hand and held it still.

"Give me a minute to slow down," Bradford stated. His voice was harsh but there was no help for it. His loins throbbed for satisfaction. "Otherwise I'll break my promise, sweet, and you'll have trouble walking for a week."

Caroline smiled. "A week, Bradford? Surely you exaggerate." She pulled her hand free and trailed one finger down the middle of his chest. "You look like you're in pain, husband," she remarked in a sultry whisper. Her hand hesitated in its direction, and Caroline noticed that her husband had quit breathing. She suddenly felt very powerful and quite seductive. Her hand continued until she was touching Bradford's hardness.

Bradford visibly jerked and then let out a full groan. Caroline smiled over it and whispered, "You have just given me pleasure, Bradford. Isn't there a way I can pleasure you too?"

"Caroline, my little innocent…" The rest of his explanation got caught in the back of his throat, lost in the low growl when Caroline slowly lowered her head and placed feathery, teasing kisses against his navel. "You'll have to tell me what to do," she whispered.

The Duke of Bradford immediately did just that.