His hand slipped to the meeting of her thighs, getting closer and closer to where she wanted him. He let his fingers dangle so that the tips could touch her mound.
“Please,” she breathed, her hands gripping his strong forearms.
He had just touched and tasted her in the carriage. Surely, he didn’t want to do it to her once more? What about him? She was certain he had not gotten the release he needed. At the moment, his rigid length pressed against her back, almost urgently. But so far, he had been patient with her.
He started pleasuring her with his fingers, slipping one in as if to test her, but she knew he’d find her wet. She had been since that conversation in the carriage, the conversation that had become a reason for him to lick her to orgasm.
One more finger joined the other, pressing in and out of her core. He had found the rhythm that made her see stars. His other hand held her at the throat, and she could feel her heart pulsing through her neck and into his hot palm.
“Do you like this?” he panted, curling a finger to touch a nerve that had her hip shooting up.
“Y-yes.”
He had managed to intensify the pleasure just by finding that little spot that she did not know existed.
“Good. That’s what I want my wife to feel. I want you to feel good all night long,” he grunted, as he quickened his speed.
His hips moved beneath her, as well as his heavy erection. She wanted to touch him, but at the moment she was still in the throes of her own passion, as his fingers continued their rhythmic assault on her.
Victoria was never a selfish woman. She reached beneath the water and found Richard’s erection. Her touch was bold, her fingers wrapping around his girth. He was hard and velvety at the same time. She could imagine touching him for hours and never getting tired.
The duke gasped at the sensation of her moving her fist up and down his length, but his fingers were relentless with their invasion.
“Come for me, Victoria,” he spluttered, almost begging.
The water was splashing down the rim of the bathtub, and neither cared. Steam swirled, and the warmth of their bodies matched the warmth of the water.
Victoria was almost there. She could feel the knot inside of her getting tighter and tighter, ready to explode. When his hand reached for her full breast to squeeze, she felt the descent. Then, he started squeezing her nipple rhythmically as if mimicking the sensation of sucking. It was then that her release finally claimed her.
“Richard!” she scrambled, her body arching up and then back on him.
Her grip on him remained throughout. With a little more coaxing from her hand, he followed after. She could feel the throbbing release as he exploded.
“T-that was something,” he admitted, chuckling a little, as they tried to catch their breath.
For a moment, they just stayed there, satiated and happy, with her head resting on his chest. However, the water was beginning to cool, and Richard had to give Victoria a little nudge before he slipped from her gently to climb out of the tub. He reached down and easily lifted her from it. He gently wrapped her in a robe and carried her into the room.
In the cozy warmth of the room, near the hearth, they dried each other. It was a moment of complete intimacy, bare to each other. There were no walls and pretenses. It made Victoria’s heart sing with happiness.
After dressing in their bedclothes, the couple headed for the four-poster bed. The sheets were fresh and inviting. They slid under the heavy duvet and were ready to sleep together for the first time. No walls would be between them for tonight.
As if they always slept next to each other, Victoria curled into Richard, her head resting on one bicep. He pulled her close against him, his heart beating against her back, comforting her.
“Stay with me, please.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Soon, darkness claimed them both, followed by the most restful slumber she’d had in a long time.
Chapter Sixteen
Richard woke in somebody else’s bed.
This had never happened before. He had dalliances in his youth, fleeting encounters that never lingered past dawn, but this …
This was different. This was Victoria. His wife. And their pretenses had somehow slipped into something startlingly real. Or at least itfeltreal.
The sun’s rays were already streaming through the windows, pale gold light spilling across the floorboards, and Richard’s eyes opened reluctantly, weighed down by the unfamiliarity of vulnerability. He could still feel the impression of her presence beside him, the warmth, the quiet strength she radiated even in sleep.
