“Yes,” she whispered. “I trust you.”
He kissed her as he joined with her, swallowing her gasp of pain. He held himself still, his arms trembling with the effort, while she adjusted to the shock of him.
“Breathe,” he murmured against her lips. “Just breathe.”
The pain faded, replaced by a fullness, a connection she hadn’t expected. When she experimentally moved her hips, he groaned.
“Marianne—”
“Move,” she gasped, forgetting propriety, forgetting everything but him. “Please, Adrian.”
He did, setting a rhythm that had her arching beneath him, her hands coming up to grasp his shoulders before she remembered the rule.
“I didn’t give you leave to touch,” he growled, but he caught her hands, interlacing their fingers and pressing them into the mattress above her head. “Keep them there.”
The command, the helplessness of the position, should have frightened her. Instead, it set her alight.
“That’s it,” he murmured, watching her with molten eyes. “So beautiful like this. So perfect. My perfect duchess.”
The endearment, the raw tenderness of it, undid her.
“Adrian, I can’t— I need—”
“Not yet.” His voice was strained, his control fracturing. “Hold on just— wait for me—”
It was impossible. The pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming. She was going to disappoint him, break his rule on their very first night—
“Now,” he commanded, his hand sliding between them to touch her where they joined. “Come for me now, Marianne.”
She shattered, her vision going white as pleasure crashed over her in waves. She heard herself crying his name, felt him follow her over the edge with a groan that sounded pulled from his very soul.
They lay tangled together afterwards, both breathing hard, sweat cooling on their skin. Adrian recovered first, rolling to the side but pulling her with him, her back to his chest, his arm possessive around her waist.
“Are you well?” he asked, his voice low against her shoulder.
“I’m ruined,” she murmured, half dazed.
A low laugh vibrated through him. “Good ruined or bad ruined?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
He kissed her temple. “Fair answer.”
Silence settled again, companionable and strange.
“Adrian?”
“Mm?”
“Is it always like that? So... intense?”
“No,” he said, his arm tightening around her. “It’s never been like that.”
“But you’ve—”
“I’ve had women, yes. But not a wife. Not you.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “You surrendered beautifully.”
“I broke your rule. About touching.”
