She was still at first, watching him with something approaching aristocratic hauteur. But he kept at his gentle awakening of her pussy and was pleased to find dew on his fingers. Marianne was growing wet for him.
“Does it feel…acceptable?” he asked.
Her breath stuttered on her next inhale.
“Yes, I accept it,” she said, as if assembling words was difficult for her, too, when pleasure descended.
“May I delve deeper into your person?” he asked, fighting the urge to shake his head at how awkwardly he’d phrased the request.
“Please do, Your Grace,” she said, widening her thighs.
He didn’t bother to correct her; his gaze and every thought in his mind centered on the parting of those sweet cunny lips. There was no doubt that she was glistening for him, slick and hot and ready to receive his cock. Frederick had to tug at his balls to calm his ardor so he wouldn’t spend untouched, such was the magnitude of his arousal.
“I could do this all day, Marianne,” he breathed, watching as his finger slipped over her spread cunt and stroked over her nub.
Her hips rocked jerkily as if she was rolling on the waves of pleasure for the first time. He wanted to drive her right into the surging wetness and feel the spray on his face.
Frederick shook his head. He was far too worked up, too randy for his wife’s first time. He needed to moderate and control his impulses for fear of losing her!
“May I prepare you?” he asked, his eyes catching on that tiny hole that was supposed to hug his very swollen cock. The idea of pushing into her, feeling her virgin sheath around him, made him jerk.
“I trust you, Frederick,” she said in a small voice, switching to using his given name again without being reminded. He contained a groan.
As the High Buckthorn of the Grand Bucks, he’d had the occasion to pleasure many women, but never a virgin, and certainly not his own wife. Watching his smallest finger press into her untried cunny had him nearly feral with need.
She pulsed and gripped, all while being so wet as to make the slide feel unreal. “What a good girl you are,” he babbled, feeling his brain emptied of more complex sentences.
He traded his pinky finger for the index and dragged his fingertip over a soft and pillowy spot inside, observing asMarianne’s legs shook, but never bringing her fully to climax. He worked himself in and out with increasing speed and let her hole open for him.
“Frederick,” she said, her voice small. “Isn’t there something else you must do?”
He could think of ten thousand. “What’s that, darling?”
“Don’t you need to place yourself within me?” she asked. “At least, that’s what the lady my guardians hired as a chaperone explained to me when our marriage was announced.”
“Yes, I suppose I do,” he said, as if the thought had slipped his mind. He pulled off his dressing gown, and she saw him bare for the first time. Well, the second time, though she didn’t know she’d seen her future husband in the nude, donning only a stag mask, several months before in the Forest.
Frederick stroked his aching cock. “Have you observed one of these before?” he asked, knowing full well she had seen one.Hiscock.
His duchess didn’t answer, simply reached for it as if transfixed by the sight of a grown man sporting an erection that might just kill him.
Her fingertips, which he’d always imagined would feel cool, were in fact quite warm when they brushed over his cockhead. He jolted at the sensation, and she drew back.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, bringing her hand back to his shaft with utmost gentleness, then fitting her hand around his hard length.
At first, he thought she meant to stroke him, a very welcome turn of events. But then he caught on to the true object: she was pulling him towards her cunt, heaven help him.
He let her guide him, struggling on his hands and knees to get in position between her thighs. When his tip glanced over her slit as she inexpertly tried to take him, Frederick grasped the bedclothes and begged the libertines gone before him for aid in holding back from an ignominiously premature end to his wedding night.
“You’re very intent on consummating this marriage,” he said with a leer, desperate for some way to break the spell that was cast upon him. The spell that had turned a seasoned rake into a green youth about to disappoint a woman.
She looked stricken, and he realized she might take his statement as if he thought she was trying to sink the final claws into a duke.
He dipped his head and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “As am I,” he said.
Marianne smiled while his lips still touched hers, and she relinquished control of his cock when he took himself in hand and gently inserted his tip at the entrance of her channel.
She was spasming already, as if halfway up the spiraling staircase to orgasm. He grasped the base of his cock and bit his lower lip to contain his lust.
