Clementine’s perfectly formed lips parted. She was on her knees before him. He ought to protest. Tell her to stop, to wait. But…those lips were on his cock now, moving, gliding. She took him deep into the hot, velvety recesses of her mouth. Sucked. Swirled her tongue over his cockhead. Grasped his ballocks with enough pressure to make him lose his restraint.
But no. This was not the way their wedding night would proceed. If it did, he would be a dreadful disappointment to his bride.
Every part of his body screamed in protest as he tenderly disengaged from her before he spent in her mouth. Her lips were parted, full and swollen and glistening in the dim oil lamps. There was no electricity here at Tildon Court, which meant they relied on lamp and candle to illuminate the darkest recesses of the castle. It was slightly medieval, as was the sight of his woman on the carpets before him, intent upon giving him pleasure.
He liked that about Clementine—she was sure of herself, and gradually, with his encouragement, she had ceased being ashamed of her desires and needs.
Actually, he likedeverythingabout her. Loved every part of her.
He took her hands in his before she could protest, tugging her to her feet even as his cock stood painfully erect between them. He felt a bit foolish as he stood there half-nude, his prick glistening with her saliva and standing at attention. But she easily quelled the emotion by grasping handfuls of her night rail and raising it over her head.
The wispy garment was tossed beyond her shoulder and landed somewhere. He knew not where. Nor did he give a good goddamn. Because his wife was naked before him, all cream and the sweet, delicate pink of a rose bud. Generous curves and dips and silken womanly flesh.
He had no words.
All he could do was take her in his arms once more and carry her to the bed awaiting them. His feet moved. His body and his mind were one as he laid Clementine on the turned-down bedclothes. The sweet scent of her teased him. Spurred him on.
He joined her, their bodies aligning, her thighs opening to invite him.
“I love you, Clementine,” he said, searching for her lips.
“I love you,” she answered.
And then, the time for talking was distinctly at an end. He kissed her mouth but needed more. Needed her writhing and crying out beneath him. Down her neck he went, dragging his lips, offering kisses and sucks and licks and nips.
Her breasts were twin handfuls, creamy and ripe. He leveraged himself on one elbow while he took his time caressing them, weighing them in his hands, lowering his head to suck her nipples until her back arched and her fingers were sifting through his hair.
Lower.
Down her belly.
He found a particularly entrancing patch of skin on her hip, where her curves put Venus to shame. Everywhere, she was sweet-scented and gorgeous and far more than he deserved. At last, when she was writhing beneath him, he lowered himself between her legs. Planted his palms on her inner thighs and spread her wide.
Pink, glistening lips and a swollen bud hidden in the thatch of dark curls beckoned him. He sucked her clitoris first. Used his tongue to stroke and tease until her breaths were coming heavy and hard and her hips were undulating beneath him, and her fingers were tugging in his hair and the sweetest noises of frustration escaped her.
“Oh, Ambrose. More, please. Harder, faster,” she begged.
He obliged.
Licking, sucking. He plunged his tongue into her cunny, then drew on her pearl until she cried out and the glide of his fingers in her tight passage had her coming undone for the first time.
When he could not prolong the pleasure a moment more, he rose over her, his fingers strumming her clitoris as she arched into him. But for all that they had managed enough time alone during their summer-long betrothal to become acquainted with each other physically, they had never consummated their relationship completely.
He had never taken a virgin before, and he very much did not wish to cause her any pain.
Dorset kissed her cheek, her ear, as he rolled his hips against hers. “Are you ready, my love?”
“I have been ready for you forever,” she said, her fingernails raking down his back lightly, pressing her breasts into his chest.
That was all the encouragement he needed. He braced himself on one arm and grasped his aching cock in the other, bringing himself to her dripping entrance. She was so wet. So inviting. So hot.
His hips jerked, his body telling him he needed to be inside this woman. That he had been waiting to be inside this woman for his entire life. He moved, the tip of his cock inside her. There was a fleeting moment of tensing, her body naturally resisting this strange new invasion.
Tight.
She was so tight. She relaxed beneath him on a sigh.
Heaven.
