The day after their wedding night, he’d awoken with a substantial cockstand. Although that was not an unusual way for him to greet the morning, matters had been exacerbated by the fact that his prick had found an enviable home nestled in the soft, sleek crevice of his sleeping bride’s bottom. That had left him with quite the dilemma.
He’d deprived Lottie of her maidenhead but a few hours ago. Having never bedded a virgin before, he hadn’t known what to expect, but he should have known his new bride. Inexperienced but intelligent, prudent but passionate, Lottie had taken to lovemaking like a bird to the skies. In fact, her enthusiasm had moved him to take her twice…which meant she was undoubtedly sore.
While Jack hadn’t always been a gentleman, he’d sworn to himself that, with his new marchioness, he would be. He would be an ideal husband, the version of himself he’d always wished to be. He would cherish his exquisite lady by showing some bloody restraint. Something he’d never been good at, but for Lottie, he would try. Even if his cock was throbbing like the devil betwixt the plump mounds of her arse, he would do the right thing and let her rest.
When she shifted in her sleep, caressing him with her crack, he had to stifle a groan.
Then he heard her giggle.
“Are you always, ahem, an early riser, my lord?”
Lottie twisted her head to look at him, and the naughty glimmer in her goddess’s eyes told him she’d been awake for some time. Her teasing undid his good intentions, tossing them aside like a used cravat.
“You little minx,” he growled.
He pounced on her, claiming her mouth until she had no breath left for laughter.
Kissing her until all she gave him were soft sighs and whimpers.
When he judged she was ready for more, he continued his feast down her body. All sleek lines and soft curves, Lottie was everything he found alluring in a woman. Her downy skin and female scent fed his hunger, threatening his resolution to be a courteous lover. Luckily, his bride seemed to be similarly lost in the heat swirling between them, clenching his hair as he licked her breasts, moaning when he sucked one candy-pink nipple into his mouth.
Pleasure flushed his skin, his fist jerking harder as he trailed kisses down Lottie’s torso. He traced the elegant curve of her ribs with his tongue, teased the dip of her belly. Even though she was new at this, she was his match in every way, arching into his caresses, panting for more. Her wantonness set him afire and incinerated his resolve to act like a proper gentleman in bed.
Clamping his hands on her thighs, he spread her wide, his nostrils flaring at the sight of her golden fleece and the plump, pink secrets beneath. He ran a finger up her slit, marveling at how wet she was. How ready. He’d been with lusty women before, but none of them had Lottie’s sweetness. None had made him feel desired the way she did. None of them had been his—his woman, his wife.
“You are so lovely, Lottie,” he said raggedly. “Ihaveto taste you.”
He dipped his head, delving his tongue deeply. Christ, she was delectable. His first taste of his bride’s pussy, and he was hooked for life. To her womanly flavor and her intoxicating response. No prim and proper marchioness was his Lottie. She bucked against his mouth, her needful whimpers urging him to lick deeper into her succulence. He found her pearl, rubbing it as he ate her. She cried his name when she came, and he groaned at the decadent squeeze of her passage around his tongue.
He crawled up her body and claimed her mouth, sharing the taste of her pleasure with her. It wasn’t the sort of thing a gentleman would do, but he was too far gone to care. Especially when Lottie swirled her tongue against his, stretching against him like a cat.
“Make love to me,” she whispered.
“Greedy chit.” Looking into her soft-as-smoke eyes, he asked, “Aren’t you sore from last night?”
She bit her lip.
He smiled tenderly. “As tempted as I am, sweeting, we’ll wait another day or two before we have another go.”
“As you’ve just demonstrated, there is more than one way to make love, isn’t there?”
She reached between them, and he shuddered, feeling her tentative caress against his cock, which lay like an iron bar against her belly. She stroked him, watching his face, the desire to please him shining in her eyes. Although her touch was that of a novice, her rhythm too leisurely, she aroused him more than any woman he’d ever known.
“Like this.” Shifting onto his side, he wrapped her hand firmly around his cock. “Touch me harder and faster.”
It didn’t take his bride long to figure out how to drive him mad. She was the most capable lady he’d ever met, even in this. His blood pounding, he watched her frigging his engorged prick. Her delicate fingers barely enclosed his thick, veined shaft as she stroked him like he’d instructed. As she worked her fist up and down, her exquisite touch wrung a drop of pre-seed from his flared tip.
“Oh, you feel slippery,” she breathed.
He groaned at the note of excitement in her voice, the glint of discovery in her eyes. In the next heartbeat, he rolled atop her again, thrusting his prick against her hot, slick furrow.
“Not as slippery as you,” he said huskily.
She gasped when he drove his hard length against her sensitive bud. Lubricated by her dew, the sensation sizzled down his spine. He shoved his cock against her, his breath rasping when she wrapped her legs around his hips, allowing his stones to drag against her wet petals. She moved with him, their joining natural and perfect. Her soft sighs and lush cunny brought him to the edge, ripping off his mask of civility.
“Come for me, Lottie,” he gritted out. “I want to feel your honey on my cock.”
It was the first time he’d used such language with her…and he felt a surge of satisfaction when shelikedit. She came with a sweet little squeak, gushing dew that made her crease even more deliciously slick. Panting, he fucked her wetness, the heat in his balls building and building until it shot up his shaft. He jerked his fist, the water rippling as he found his release.
