For a moment, the duke held himself there, his breath coming harsh, then he moved, leaning back and watching possessively as he withdrew from her clasping flesh and surged forward again.
Ashton cursed under his breath, his hands smoothed themselves up over her hips, pushing her nightgown higher as his thumb grazed that secret place between her thighs and finally dragged the moan Violet had been suppressing free.
Once released, she couldn’t stop, breathless gasps and sighs drawn from her lips with each drag of his shaft through her tender flesh, a madness that wouldn’t be held at bay building in her body.
She could feel their eyes on her, their hands, touching her everywhere. Nothing could be denied, even in the flickering light of the candles.
The duke grunted, a hoarse exhale of pleasure, then spread her legs even wider and thrust deep, his hips rolling sinuously as he plunged to the hilt, working himself faster between her thighs as sweat gathered on his brow, stomach muscles tightening with each forceful drive of his cock.
Violet felt something flare deep in her core, a shockingly wanton urge to meet each thrust with her hips, so rise up and find more of that friction, an ache that seemed to only increase with each new surge of his body into hers.
She moaned louder, lost to sensation, arching up off the sheets, her breasts teased by strong, warm hands as the doctor held her firmly in place, soothing her and stoking her fever at the same time.
“Christ, she feels good,” groaned the Duke, shuddering, his head falling back, exposing the length of his throat as he worked himself into her heat over and over, his body on display as he conquered her ruthlessly beneath him.
With a curse, he pressed deep, holding her down roughly as his hips bucked, skin shivering as liquid heat poured itself into her depths.
Violet realised vaguely that the duke had found his release, his seed filling her up just as the doctor had described.
Ashton looked up from his position between her thighs, stroking one hand up over her belly, over the crumpled remains of her nightdress, towards the valley between her breasts, his gaze hot as he devoured the sight of his conquest.
“Very good, Violet,” he sighed in approval, his mouth lifting in a half smile that did devastating things to her insides.
She licked her lips, still restless and hot, but uncertain. “Did I please you, Your Grace?”
Ashton flashed her a grin, almost feral in its intensity. “Oh yes, you have pleased me very well.”
The doctor moved, as did the duke. The latter clambered off the bed and walked across the room, belting his robe loosely around his hips as he moved to pour himself another drink.
The doctor returned to her side, smiling down at her tenderly as he urged her to lift her hips, placing a pillow beneath her bottom.
“To assist conception,” he offered, his hands running soothingly over her thighs, arranging her comfortably before moving to join the duke again.
For a moment, they conferred, and then Ashton returned to his seat, the doctor collecting a small pot from the side table before moving back to the bed.
Richard lay down beside her and propped himself on his elbow. He reached out and cupped Violet’s face, his eyes warm with admiration as he stroked the skin of her cheek.
“You gave the duke much pleasure, Violet, but I think you did not yet find your own.”
“What?” she frowned, even as the man allowed his hand to wander down the length of her neck, down the line of her sternum, her body still reeling from the sensual overload of her first experience of lovemaking, his fingers sending small shocks and shivers throughout her body.
He pulled out the pot and dipped his fingers in. “An ointment, to soothe your flesh,” he said firmly, warming the salve between his fingers before he dipped them between her thighs. “Doctor’s orders,” he added with a small grin.
Oh heavens, she could feel every tiny movement of those long fingers as he probed her tender skin, the salve and the slipperiness of the duke’s release allowing him to slide through her folds with ease.
Then he returned to that tender spot above her opening, and her hips rose involuntarily off the pillow as a shock of pleasure rushed through her.
“Yes, that’s it. Good girl,” muttered the doctor, his gaze intent as he watched her face, his fingers circling that tender bud now, playing and teasing until Violet was panting and weak, her hips rolling helplessly as the fever that had started while the Duke took his pleasure flared into a storm of sensation.
“You are ready, your body is sensitive to the slightest touch,” the doctor murmured, dipping down into her channel to tease her there, sliding his fingers into her clenching heat in a facsimile of lovemaking that stole her breath and made her gasp helplessly, her eyes flicking down to the duke where he once again watched her over the rim of his glass.
“Make her moan, Richard,” the duke said. “I want to watch her face as she spends.”
“As do I, Ashton,” said the doctor, voice low and roughened, his fingers stroking her mercilessly as he cast her helplessly towards some unknown abyss of delight.
Violet’s eyes clamped shut as pressure surged between her thighs, her hands somehow found their way to the doctor’s strong forearm and she clung to him there, feeling him return to her bud and work her hard, demanding now. Pressing and circling until her heart stuttered in her chest, lungs heaving for air as pleasure, hot and blinding, rushed out from the place where he touched her and swallowed her whole. Sobbing, moaning pleas tumbling from her lips as she bucked helplessly into that knowing touch.
When the maelstrom finally retreated, Violet was left shuddering and lightheaded, the room spinning as the doctor smoothed his fingers over her one last time before pulling down her nightgown, covering her legs and then moving to the ties at her chest.
