Page 92 of A Deal for the Duke’s Virgin

This is it.

Christian leaned over her, a slow grin spreading across his face. He kissed her again, more softly this time. She reached up, grabbing his shoulders.

“Touch me,” she breathed, the words clawing their way out of her throat almost without her consent.

He gave a low, rumbling growl and momentarily let his weight press her into the mattress. A tingle started up in her gut at the sensation, growing more and more insistent until she heard herself moan aloud. But just as soon as it had come, the pressure eased.

He lifted himself on his elbow, and with his free hand, tugged at her skirts. She shifted her hips, not caring how impatient she looked. The heavy brocade bunched in his hand, and he growled in annoyance. He tugged hard, and she felt the fabric give a little. There was a tearing sound, and she briefly mourned the fine gown, but then Christian touched her bare skin, and all thoughts flew out of her head.

His fingers slid up her thigh, making her quiver. She pressed a hand over her mouth to smother her moans, but his hand shot out, fingers curling around her wrist, and tugged it away.

“Don’t you dare,” he breathed. “You better let me hear you. I’ve earned it.”

She nodded, eyes wide, and he slid his hand down her body once more. His fingers brushed her thighs, and she sighed, closing her eyes and letting her legs fall open.

He stroked her wet folds, and she let out a ragged gasp. Pleasure arced through her, sharp and hot, and she pressed her hips up into his touch. He gave a low growl, lips pressed against her throat. He stroked her faster, before pressing his fingers against her entrance.

She gasped once more, and then he slid a finger inside her. The sensation was different, more intense and certainly more pleasurable.

His fingers pumped into her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, sparks dancing behind her lids. He growled something under his breath that she could not quite hear, before her climax crashed over her like a wave.

The pleasure did not immediately subside. It lingered, fizzing in her veins for a long, giddy moment.

She opened her eyes, the light seeming to burn, and focused on Christian’s face looming over her.

“What a wonderful start to our wedding night,” she managed weakly. “But only the start, I hope?”

He blinked, the lust in his eyes fading, replaced by… well, she couldn’t say what. Disappointment? Hesitation?

“It’s late,” he said softly. “You’ve had a long day. I’ll leave you to sleep.” He pulled back, sliding off the mattress.

Thalia struggled up onto her elbows. Her head was still a little foggy, limbs limp with pleasure, and she was faintly aware that her hair, carefully braided and styled for the wedding ceremony, had started to come undone at the back.

“What do you mean?” she stammered. “I thought… Well, since we’ve already done a great deal of what… of what men and women do together, I thought we would go a little further. Ahem. I thought we would go all the way.”

“All the way?” he echoed. “All the way where?”

She reddened. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I do. How do you know we haven’t done all there is to do?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I know we haven’t.”

“Hmm. Well, I think we should leave it there.”

He poured a generous glass of wine and gently set it on the bedside table beside her pillow.

She struggled up into a sitting position and reached for his hand. She managed to seize his cuff before he turned away.

“Why do you want to leave it there?” she demanded. “Men aren’t supposed to be like this. They ought to want things.”

“And who says I am like other men? I’m not sure I know what you want from me, my dear.”

She tightened her jaw. “I am… I am asking you to lie with me, I suppose. As husband and wife. We ought to try it at least once, I think.”

He swallowed, glancing away. “Perhaps not.”

A flare of annoyance shot through her. “Why not?”