Miss Theresa Sutton had imagined her wedding day her whole life: the ring, the flowers, the pride on her parents’ faces, even the envy of ladies like Miss Holloway who had for years looked down on her in derision. The wedding night, however, was another matter. She had not given much thought to it beyond a general sense of excitement at finally feeling Harry against her. Her mother, not thinking such talk proper, had not told her what to expect, and she would be mortified to have such lurid conversation with the other ladies. So as the wedding festivities taper off and Harry gently takes her hand and leads her up the stairs to his room—their room, she realizes with a jolt—she feels a sudden uneasiness in her stomach. What if she can’t please Harry? What if he laughs at her for not knowing what to do? What if she can never compare to the girls he must have encountered while in France?
Sensing her hesitancy, Harry slows his gait and looks back at his new wife. “Theresa, is something wrong?” She has to smile at his gentleness. His manor is so different from what the ragged scar etched across his face might suggest.
“Oh no, it’s nothing, I’m sure.” Theresa stammers.
“It’s unlike you to be silent.” Harry takes both of her hands and peers into her deep brown eyes. “If something’s bothering you, I want to know what it is.”
She can no longer hold back. “Oh Harry, it’s just…I’m afraid I don’t really know what…what we are to do next.” She looks down in embarrassment. “What if I’m not any good, or don’t know how…how to…”
Harry gathers her in his arms, hugs her close, and then pulls back to meet her eyes again. “Darling, there’s no reason to worry. It will be wonderful. Just like every moment we’ve spent together since I first laid eyes on you has been wonderful.”
She nods with a sigh of relief. “I guess I just never thought I could be with someone as handsome and kind as you, and I now that I am I want to please you, to be everything you want in a wife.”
“Of course you will! You’re already everything I’ve ever wanted. We’ll learn together how to please each other.”
She smiles at him and gives her head a shake as if to knock the nervousness out of her brain. “Right, of course. I’m just being silly.”
They walk hand-in-hand into the bedroom, where there’s a fire blazing in the hearth and a bottle of champagne and two glasses on the bedside table. Harry pours a glass for each of them, hoping it will help calm Theresa’s nerves. He removes his waistcoat and court shoes, laying them aside, and invites Theresa to do whatever she needs to get comfortable.
As she slides off her shoes and stockings, Harry catches a glimpse of her slim white ankle and his heart begins to race. Easy now, he thinks to himself. We should go slowly tonight. She glances up and blushes as she catches him gazing at her with longing.
“I do believe you blushing is the loveliest sight I’ve ever beheld,” Harry says, his voice low and husky. That only makes her blush more, but she is pleased at him speaking to her in a way he never has, a way no man ever has.
“Oh really?” She says playfully, beaming at him as she takes a sip of champagne.
“In fact, I wonder how deeply you would blush if I were to do this.” Harry unbuttons his vest, removes his cravat, and pulls off his shirt, tossing it all aside.
He steps close to her, seizing her in his arms and kissing her fiercely. She places her free hand on his cheek, fingertips grazing his scar, as he nibbles her lower lip. He pulls back and studies her face. “Was that alright, my love?”
“Oh, yes! Very much so,” she utters breathlessly.
“Good. I don’t want to do anything tonight that you’re not comfortable with, okay? If you want to take things little by little, that’s perfectly fine.”
She takes a deep breath, emboldened by his attentiveness. “I don’t think I do want to take things slowly, though. I want to feel what it’s like to be in your arms.”
He traces his fingers lightly down her cheek, brushing the side of her neck, and over her collarbone. Then he retraces the path with his lips.
She sets her glass down, and he spins her around to face away from him so he can unbutton her dress as she steadies herself on the bedpost. As he makes quick work of her buttons, he trails kisses down her back, and she sighs contentedly at his touches. As her dress falls around her ankles, he unlaces her bodice and guides her back around to face him so he can take in the sight of her. She gives him a shy smile as he kisses down her neck and takes her pale, smooth breasts in his calloused hands. She utters the most delicate of moans as he teases her nipple with his fingers.
“Do you like that, my love?” He whispers gently, reverently even. She nods as he moves his lips down to take the place of his fingers. Encouraged by her moans, he wants to hear every possible sound she can make, and learn how to summon them from her. He kisses down her stomach and slides her chemise down to pool on the floor with her dress.
“Will you sit on the bed for me, darling Theresa?” She complies, perching on the edge of the mattress as he stands back and takes her in.
“Are you pleased with your wife?” she asks coquettishly. He grins at her.
“More pleased than you can possibly imagine.” He starts to move toward her, but pauses as she speaks again.
“What is it? Is this too much?”
“No, it’s just…don’t you want to take off your trousers as well?”
He closes his eyes for a moment, savoring the sound of desire in her voice, and then disrobes, leaving only his drawers on, as she watches him, her innocent eyes wide. They take each other in for a long moment—the soft curves of her body like cream, his muscles taut under his rough skin—before he moves toward her as if pulled by a magnetic force.
He stands between her knees, kissing her hungrily.
“So, my husband, what should I do now?”
“You should just lie back and let me worship every inch of you.”
Her nerves light up under his touch as he runs his fingers over her skin, learning the curves of her body. She sighs as he lowers his head and kisses her ankle, her calf, then she gasps and flushes with heat as he nibbles the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He meets her gaze as he moves his fingers between her legs and for the first time gently caresses her folds. It thrills him to discover that his wife, chaste and innocent as she is, is soaking wet with desire for him. He rubs her slowly, teasing out her desire until her eyes seem to beg for him.
"Is this the first time you've been touched like this?"
"Do you want more?"
He gives her a roguish grin as he moves his fingers faster, rubbing against her clit and then plunging them into her as she cries out, a look of shocked delight on her delicate features.
After enjoying the sight of her writhing beneath his touch for a few minutes longer, he lowers his lips to her and begins to lick up her wet folds and then back down, tasting her desire.
Her heart pounds as it never has before as she begins to lose control. She feels almost dizzy as he laps and sucks at her most sensitive places, his fingers still plunging into her. She had no idea that anything could make her feel this way. As her muscles tense, he pauses for a moment to look up at her.
“Do you know what an orgasm is, my lady?”
She shakes her head, too breathless to speak.
“Would you like to find out?”
She nods vigorously.
He goes to work on her again, licking her clit even faster than before as his fingers penetrate her tight opening.
She moans loudly and grinds into him, abandoning all decorum in a way that drives him wild. Then she shutters and cries out as her muscles clench around his fingers and release.
He watches her face, enraptured, as she loses all control. He moves up to kiss her as she pants, coming down from the crest of ecstasy. "No one has ever been as beautiful as you are right now, I'm sure of it.” He dots her collarbone with kisses. “Although, my dear,” he says teasingly, “next time you orgasm, I want to hear my name on your lips."
Harry lies down beside Theresa, lightly tracing her arm with his fingers as she catches her breath.
“So,” he says, “what do you think? Am I a good husband to you?” She giggles and leans into him. "The very best. And I want to be the best wife."
"You already are."
"Can you show me how to make you feel... the way you made me feel?"
"I can,” he smiles. “We don’t need to rush though. How about some more champagne first?"
She smiles, welcoming the chance to cool off for a moment and collect herself. Harry pours her some more champagne and hands her the glass, spilling a few drops of it on her breast.
“Harry, that’s cold!”
He leans down and licks the droplets off her.
She swats him playfully. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t dare.” He gives her a devilish smile and then spills a few drops from his own glass on her other breast, and then laps those up as well.
She giggles and shakes her head at him in mock disapproval. “What ever will I do with you now.”
She runs her fingertips along the top of his breeches.
"Don't you want to take off your... your inexpressibles?"
"Is that what you want? I want to know everything you desire."
She smiles shyly, but her voice is sure. "Yes, I want you to remove them." He slides his last remaining garment onto the floor as she finishes her champagne, then she leans back on the bed and he lies beside her, fully nude and fully erect. She gazes at him, taking in his hard, pink cock. She's never seen a naked man before except in paintings, and even those made her blush sometimes. It's larger than she expected, and she can feel the heat radiating off of him.
"May I... that is, I want to touch you."
He gently takes her hand and moves it to him, guiding her in long, light strokes along his shaft. He moves his hand away and lets her continue as he lies back and closes his eyes in pleasure. Thrilled by the sight of him melting under her touch, she tightens her grip and moves faster, and he lets out a loud groan. She pauses for a moment. "Is that good?"
He opens his eyes to gaze into hers. "It's very good." He kisses her, teasing her tongue with his as she resumes stroking him steadily. She gasps as he bites down on her bottom lip and squeezes her nipple at the same time, but it only makes her desire him more, and she moves her hand more vigorously still. He moans as her fingers grip him.
"Harry, I ache for you like I've never wanted anything in my life."
He guides her to lie flat on her back and kneels over her, reveling in the look of longing playing across her face, across her whole body even, as she trembles beneath him. He's been with other girls before but they were fleeting, trivial affairs. Never has he been with anyone so beautiful and pure, or anyone who wanted him with the fervor his wife has now. He touches her and finds her even wetter than before, dripping even, and he slowly rubs the tip of his hard cock over her wetness until she gasps and begs for him.
"Please, Harry, I want to feel what it's like to be with you fully."
He pauses for a moment. “You should know, since it’s your first time, it may hurt a bit, and there may be a little blood, but that's normal. Is that alright?”
Theresa pats his hand to put him at ease. “I’ll be quite alright. Besides, you should never underestimate a lady’s capacity for pain.”
He kisses her forehead and slowly lowers himself into her tight opening a few inches until she gasps, then he eases back out. “Just tell me if it’s too much, okay?”
He lowers himself again and she moans softly, closing her eyes.
“Does it hurt?”
“A little bit. But at the same time, it feels good too.”
He moves just a little faster, a little further in. As tight as she is, she’s slick enough from desire that he slides into her easily. He watches her face for signs of pain or pleasure, finding mostly pleasure, until she moans deeply and opens her eyes to meet his gaze.
“I want more, Harry. I want every inch of you.”
“Do you know what I want?” He lowers his voice almost to a growl. “I want to utterly ravish you, my Viscountess.”
Her heart flutters. No one had ever spoken so ungentlemanly to her before, and to have him do so now, while she lies naked and stretched out beneath him, is thrilling.
They moan in unison as he lowers his full length into her and she stretches to fit him.
“Does that feel good?”
“Yes!” She answers more loudly and enthusiastically than she meant to, but she doesn’t care anymore. She reaches out to grab his strong arms that hold him up as he rocks against her, and she digs her fingers into him.
"You're insatiable aren't you, you beautiful creature?"
“I’m your beautiful creature now, my husband.” Baring herself fully to him, she feels a boldness, and perhaps a little cheekiness, she has never expressed before.
Sensing her appetite to explore, Harry asks her, “Do you want to try something else?”
“You could try being on top, perhaps.”
“A lady can be on top?”
“If you like, of course.”
“Then show me.”
He rolls over onto his back and guides her to straddle him, placing his palms on her thighs for support. He sighs as she lowers herself onto him one inch at a time, excruciatingly slowly. She moves tentatively at first, letting his hands guide her up and down, then gasps as she lowers fully down onto him. Little by little she finds her own rhythm, rocking back and forth as she keeps her eyes trained on his face. As she speeds up, learning what it takes to make her husband moan, what it takes to make him lose control, he tilts his head back and lets out a cry. He reaches up, running his hands over her stomach to her breasts bouncing with her movements. She leans forward as they move together and kisses him deeply, moaning against his lips.
She slows down again, catching her breath as he runs his fingers through the dark hair falling down around her face.
“Do you want to try one more thing, my darling?”
She nods and lifts off of him. He rolls her gently onto her side with her knees bent and positions himself behind her, lying pressed against her back. Their bodies fit together as if carved from a single piece of wood. He parts her legs enough to guide himself into her from behind, then wraps his arm around her, pressing her to his chest. He nibbles her earlobe as they move together slowly, languidly, both closing their eyes and giving themselves fully to the sense of touch. He kisses the back of her neck as she reaches back to grasp his strong thigh. In the heat and the dizziness of desire and the smell of each other’s skin they seem to melt into one another. A drop of sweat falls from Harry’s forehead to blaze a thin wet trail across Theresa’s back. He picks up the pace just enough to make her moan and reaches between her legs to strum her clit again with light, tender touches. He can feel her breathing quicken, can even feel her heart beat harmonizing with his own.
“Oh…Harry, I think I…”
“That’s it, my darling, I love when you call out my name.”
“Harry!” She couldn’t hold back if she wanted to as she comes undone, his name pouring from her lips, and for a moment everything seems to fall away but the feel of him. Feeling her clench around him draws his orgasm from him, and he spills into her as they give into the waves of pleasure together.
They lie nestled together for a long moment, catching their breath and coming back into themselves, then she rolls over to kiss him and lean her head against his chest.
“I had no idea,” she hums sleepily. “No idea anything could feel like that. And to think, some ladies say whatever happens in bed is for the husband’s pleasure alone.”
He kisses her hair and runs his fingers along her back. “I’m glad you disagree. But this is only the beginning. I will strive to find many, many ways to please you.”
Finally finding the will to move, he retrieves a cloth to clean them both, then Theresa rises and walks over to her chest of clothes that was moved into Harry’s room earlier that day.
“Whatever are you doing?” He asks her.
“Putting on a nightgown, of course.”
He gives her a teasing smile. “I think I can find other ways of keeping you warm. Unless you object, of course?”
She giggles and tumbles back into bed with him, leaving her nightgown where it lies. “You’ll just have to prove it to me then.”
He takes her in his arms and kisses her neck.
“Yes, my darling?”
“I think I’m going to like being your wife.”