The Society Bride

That night Nena was unable to sleep. She had slipped on one of the beautiful, flimsy, spaghetti-strapped lawn nightdresses that were part of her hastily put together trousseau, chosen by her personal shopper. She looked down at it and sighed. She’d taken no interest in her trousseau, had merely agreed with anything Maureen had shown her. Now, half-afraid, she looked at herself in the mirror. She could see the shadow of her body peeping through the thin fabric and closed her eyes. How hard it was to admit to herself that despite her wish to alienate him, she was constantly thinking of her husband, that when he came close to her every nerve vibrated, that a new, torrid heat she’d never known charged through her being with an alien vibrance that left her damp in places she was embarrassed to think of. Desperately she searched for answers, unable to pinpoint this new, unquenchable thirst that had invaded her being and couldn’t be satiated.

Angry with herself, and desperate to be in the open, she moved out onto the vast balcony that contoured the upper story of the villa. Leaning her hands on the balustrade, her long hair flowing about her shoulders, Nena gazed out over the Aegean at the starlit night and listened to the sea softly lapping the shore. This was her honeymoon, and should have been the most wonderful moment of her life, yet here she was, miserable in more ways than one. She let out a long sigh.

‘Aren’t you sleepy?’ The deep husky voice just behind her made her spin round and gasp, another thrust of emotion rushing through her.

Ramon stood before her, more handsome than ever in silk pyjama pants, the top open revealing an expanse of bronzed chest. In the pool of lantern light she could see a gleam flashing in his golden-flecked chestnut eyes as they flicked over her, taking in each detail of her body in a cool, possessive manner, as an owner might look over a thoroughbred. The thin nightdress, she knew, left little to the imagination.

Ashamed, Nena moved her hands behind her against the balustrade, unaware that by doing so her small, delicious breasts were thrust towards him invitingly as her hair fell back from her shoulders and her perfect throat glistened in the moonlight.

God, she was lovely, Ramon acknowledged, a shaft of untamed desire taking hold once more as he moved towards her, unable to resist. And she was his wife. He had every right to possess her.

‘Nena,’ he whispered, his voice low and sultry, ‘let me love you. Let me be your husband.’

‘I—I can’t—’ she responded hoarsely, only too conscious of his scent, of the maleness of him, of everything about him that drew her even while she tried desperately to remind herself of all the reasons why she couldn’t let it happen.

‘I promise not to hurt you,’ he said reasonably, leaning his hands on each side of the balustrade, his tanned face and sensual lips only inches from hers.

It was then Nena realised, with a tingling shudder that left her weak, that he was about to kiss her.

And she could do nothing to stop him. Knew that however much she tried to justify it to herself she wouldn’t stop him. She must resist, must not show him that she cared, that in spite of the fact that she despised him she also longed for his touch, to discover in his arms what it would be like to become a woman.

Then, before she could think further, his lips came down on hers, and Nena gave way to her first real kiss. She felt his lips prying hers open. For a moment she tried to draw back and protest, but the firm yet gentle insistence of his tongue working its way cunningly into her mouth, left her clutching his hard shoulders instead, trying to hold on to something as the earth swayed beneath her feet.

Ramon drew her into his arms, and, pressing his hand into the small of her back, felt the delicious curve of her bottom, her small taut breasts pressed against his chest. What would she do when she felt his hardness against her? he wondered. He was careful not to rush her as his tongue probed further, thrusting carefully, leading her gently to a response, containing his rampant desire to possess her until she was ready for more, aware that this was her first everything.

So he took it slowly, sensing her waning resistance, the fight between her brain and her body, her instinct and her soul. Then, just as smoothly and firmly, he drew her closer—until she could feel the length of him, until her tongue began tentatively seeking his, guiding her all the way, hands caressing her back, the soft curve of her perfect thighs.

Then all at once he felt her arms tighten about him, heard her tiny gasp as he left her mouth and began kissing her throat, and knew he was well on his way.

Nena threw her head back and moaned, giving herself up to his caresses. She let out another tiny gasp of delight and surprise when his lips reached her breast, encircling her taut nipple, taunting it through the soft texture of her nightdress, making her want to scream with joy and pain, to reach for more, to feel free of the fabric that stood between them. But still Ramon lingered.

Slipping a hand from behind her, he gently fondled her other breast until Nena thought she couldn’t bear the searing rush of heat that stabbed her somewhere down in a place she’d never been entirely conscious of until this moment, but that now begged for some new kind of fulfilment and release.

Then a primal, tight, knotted spiral that she’d never before experienced rose within her, mounting until she thought she’d scream. And just as she could bear it no longer, as her fingers raked his thick black hair and she wanted to beg for mercy, for him to stop, a miracle happened and the hot, intense, coiled buildup crashed, simply let loose, wafted into an ecstatic joyride that lingered on and on for several seconds, leaving her limp and weak, her knees giving way beneath her as Ramon held her up and she fell extenuated against him.

‘Mi linda,’ he whispered, lifting her in his arms then carrying her through the French windows into his bedroom with the male satisfaction and pride of knowing he’d just introduced her to her first sexual experience.

‘What happened?’ she whispered as he laid her down in the middle of the huge bamboo four-poster bed, with its voile curtains and soft, cool linen sheets.

‘You just experienced your first orgasm,’ he said, slipping next to her onto the bed, his smile as arrogant as it was possessive.

‘Oh.’ Slowly Nena recouped her breath. Then suddenly she became aware that Ramon was about to remove his pyjama pants. Exercising every ounce of will-power, she sat up and brushed her hair aside, little aware of how tantalising she looked in the glow of the soft bedside lamps.

‘Ramon, what are you doing?’

‘Nena, you may be young and a virgin,’ he said with a touch of humour in his flashing brown eyes, ‘but I think you know very well what I’m doing. It’s time I made you truly my wife.’

‘No. I don’t want to.’ She moved back against the pillows and drew her legs up under her nightdress.

‘Nena, after what just happened out there that is a ridiculous statement,’ he said with a low, husky laugh that left her once again prey to the rush of heat that had assailed her previously. ‘You want me just as much as I want you,’ he said softly, trailing his long dark fingers from her throat to her breast, where he stopped just above her nipple and looked deep into her eyes. ‘Tell me you don’t want me to start all over again,’ he said with quiet, yet arrogant assurance, ‘and I’ll leave you alone.’

Nena tried to think straight, to resist the tantalising caress that was fuzzing her brain. ‘I don’t—I can’t—’

‘Yes, you can, mi linda, of course you can. Remember, I’m your husband. You can do anything with me, Nena, anything at all. I’ll show you, take you places you’ve never dreamed of.’

Her better judgement now fading into complete oblivion, Nena let her head sink back against the pillow with a long sigh.

‘No,’ Ramon said in an authoritative tone, ‘don’t run away from me. I want you here with me. I want you to know who is loving you and when. Nena, take off your nightgown.’

Again she tried to shy away. ‘No. Please, Ramon, I—’

‘Nena, might I remind you that a few days ago you vowed to obey me? I would hate to see you not keep your word.’ His eyes pinned her now, allowing no room for flight. ‘I am your husband, the man who has the right to see you, to possess you.’

It was a command, she realised, wishing she had the will-power to refuse him. Part of her hated him for what he was doing; the other submitted with intense female surrender. After all, he was right. The vow to obey had been part of their marriage ceremony; she had pronounced the words. But she hadn’t thought of their meaning. Now, seeing him rise and stand over her next to the bed, his face unsmiling as his gaze held hers, she knew that the words were for real.

Slowly, very slowly, Nena slipped to the edge of the bed.

‘Stand up,’ he ordered softly.

Nena did as he bade her—standing, cheeks flushed, clenching her hands, as gently but firmly he pulled up the nightdress and slipped it over her head, leaving her before him with nothing but the long strands of her silky tawny mane for protection.

Then Ramon took a step back and feasted his eyes on her. ‘You’re beautiful—lovely,’ he whispered hoarsely, letting his fingers trail over her, past her breast on down to her belly.

Despite her embarrassment Nena experienced another mind-wrenching tingle rush through her when his fingers reached further. All at once she realised she felt damp and hot, filled with a desire so great she could barely control the moan that escaped her when his fingers fondled her soft mound of golden curls, then slipped between her legs, probing further as he drew her close with his other arm.

And all at once she wanted to experience his skin on hers, to know what he felt like, and it was she who began tugging at the tie of his pyjamas.

‘Not so fast, cariña,’ he murmured, close to her ear. ‘There’s time for that.’

‘No,’ she muttered, gasping as he touched a place deep inside her, provoking thrusts of pain and joy, leaving her increasingly ragged and wanting. ‘You saw me. Now I want to see you.’

Ramon let out a low, satisfied laugh. ‘Very well, my darling.’ With that he continued caressing her with one hand while with the other he helped her remove the offending garments.

Soon they were standing naked, facing one another. Then Ramon gently removed his fingers and looked into her eyes. ‘I am your husband, Nena, don’t be ashamed.’

And the amazing thing, Nena realised, baffled, was that she wasn’t. In fact she felt a strange new power take hold as he looked at her, and—tentatively at first—she allowed herself to look at his body, feast on his strong, bronzed and muscled limbs, his broad yet lean torso, then on down.

Firmly Ramon slipped his hand over hers and drew it towards him. ‘I want you to feel me as I’ve felt you,’ he said, drawing her back into his arms and gently placing her hand upon him, strangely enchanted to know that this was the first time she’d been with a man, that he was the first to teach her. Another sudden rush of possessiveness and then something far stronger hit him with utter surprise: for all at once he hoped he would be the last.

It was a strange, overwhelming feeling that left him more emotionally touched than he could have believed possible. Now, as his arms slipped around her once more and he drew her back onto the bed, he tried to reason with himself, keep up the control. But he couldn’t—could think only of reaching further, knowing her thoroughly, and he kissed her, not gently, as before, but with a new, surging passion that eradicated all trace of hesitation. The latter was replaced by a passionate, gnawing hunger that he’d rarely known but that needed to be assuaged.

Nena held her breath and let her feelings take over, her heart beating so loudly she was sure he would hear it, delighting in the hard wall of muscled male body cleaving against her. And something more, something much more troubling yet stirring, a primal need, grew inside her that she knew she had to pursue, as Ramon began a thorough and delicious investigation of her body, starting with feathery kisses at her throat that descended, further and further, taunting her aching swollen nipples, then moved on down until he reached her core.

Nena let out a gasp as his tongue flicked over the little nub of sensitive flesh she’d been unaware existed until this very moment. Seconds later she was moaning, writhing, unable to restrain the need to rake her fingers through his hair.

‘Ramon!’ she cried, and shattered again into a myriad of indescribable sensations, only to end up curled in his arms as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear and soothed her gently as every pulse in her body beat wildly.

And there was more to come.

Just as Nena was beginning to steady herself Ramon slipped his fingers between her thighs once more and probed, slowly, feeling the soft liquid honey, making sure she was ready for what was to happen next.

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