Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

T he kiss was possessive, demanding, yet filled with desperation. Oliver gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, and Alexandra gasped into his mouth, threading her fingers through his hair and tugging him closer.

His lips knew exactly where to go, where to kiss and ravish—no doubt he had many lovers before her.

Her insecurities reared their heads, but before she could pull away, his hands were roaming over her back.

He was pulling her closer, and somehow, all her fears evaporated.

There were no more reservations. No more walls. No more objections. She was ready to surrender to him, even if she did not know what it would mean in the future.

Both had been too contained, too careful to express their real emotions. Tonight was different.

Alexandra traced the line of his jaw with her fingers, reveling in the feel of his trimmed beard.

She shivered at the thought of feeling it on other parts of her body.

Oliver trailed kisses down her neck, making her whimper. Her skin felt alive beneath his lips. She could feel the heat radiating from his battered body, the way his hands trembled slightly as they continued to roam over her.

Anticipation. Desire. They left her breathless and dizzy. Perhaps she should put a halt to this. Perhaps she wasn’t ready. However, a voice in the back of her head egged her on, asking her when she’d be ever ready. Who else could she give her virtue to but to her husband?

“Your Grace,” she whispered, “what are we doing?”

Oliver paused to look into her eyes, his lips hovering just above the pulse in her neck. “Tell me to stop, and I will. But I need you, Alexandra.”

“I need you, too,” she echoed, pulling him closer.

A part of her still reminded her to be cautious. He was badly bruised. He was in pain.

“But… are you certain, Your Grace?”

His reply was a growl as he captured her lips once more. “Yes,” he said against her mouth. “I’m certain. And call me Oliver. Such an act does not warrant such formality.”

Alexandra chuckled. He was right. They were doing things husbands and wives did.

She melted into him, meeting his touches with equal fervor—she had no idea she was capable of such a thing. There was no protest from her when he guided her backward until she was sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Undress me,” he commanded, his voice thick with desire.

Alexandra’s fingers fumbled with his already open shirt. She pulled it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

She bit her lip.

His chest was broad and muscular, dusted with dark hair that tapered beneath the waistband of his trousers. Even marred with bruises, his body was exquisite.

Her eyes traced every defined muscle, and she felt her cheeks flush. Yes, she had seen him before, but not like this.

“Like what you see?” he asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

She had missed that naughty smile.

“You know I do,” she responded boldly. “Oliver.”

He chuckled softly, seemingly pleased with her finally calling him by his Christian name.

He reached out to cup her cheek in his hand. “You’re so beautiful, Alexandra. So utterly delicious.”

Alexandra’s heart stuttered at his words. She was rendered speechless, and she might as well. His hands were already peeling her nightgown off her body.

“Lie down,” he ordered. “Let me look at you.”

The young Duchess obeyed, feeling unnervingly exposed but also thrilled at the possibilities. She lay down on the bed as he took off her undergarments.

Oliver stared at her, his eyes heavy-lidded. She writhed a little even as she told herself to behave. “You look so pretty. Spread your legs for me. Just for me.”

“Please,” Alexandra begged, partly because she was embarrassed by the way her husband admired her body and partly because she wanted him now. “Please.”

Oliver grunted as he quickly undressed before her. Soon, he was in bed with her, their bodies flush from chest to thigh. His bare skin on hers felt like heaven.

“Good God, Alexandra,” he groaned, squeezing her breasts and exploring the rest of her body with his hands. “I’ve wanted this for so long. I want you .”

“Make me yours then, Oliver,” she said.

He kissed her again while touching every inch of her. Mapping her form. Worshipping her body. He traced the outline of her breasts with both hands, his thumbs teasing her nipples into hard buds.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against her skin as he captured one nipple in his mouth.

He sucked hard on the bud, drawing it in and licking it. She arched her back, pushing herself closer to him.

There was more to this, Alexandra knew. She was reminded of it when his hand slid lower, his fingers brushing over the wet heat between her thighs. Her hips jerked at the contact, a moan slipping past her lips as she arched into him.

“Touch me, please.” The words tumbled out in a breathless plea.

His eyes flashed with raw desire, and a dark smirk curved his lips. “Oh, I do love it when you beg,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful delight.

Without warning, he slid two fingers inside her slick, waiting core. Alexandra cried out, her thighs falling open wider, welcoming him in. Sparks raced across her skin when he found her most sensitive spot. His thumb circled her swollen nub expertly, teasing her mercilessly.

“So responsive,” he praised, his voice husky, though she could hear his need in it. “Every part of you craves my touch, doesn’t it?”

Alexandra could only whimper in response, her mind hazy with the overwhelming sensations he was drawing from her body. His fingers moved with practiced precision, sliding in and out, curling against that spot that made her see stars.

“Y-Yes,” she stammered, breathless, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she writhed beneath him. “Oh, Oliver… I feel… I can’t?—”

“I’ve got you,” he coaxed, his voice a low growl. “Let go, Alexandra. Come for me.”

He increased the pace, pumping his fingers into her with an intensity that sent her over the edge. She felt the coil of pleasure tightening in her belly, building to an unbearable crescendo, before she shattered with a cry. Her entire body seized as her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her inner walls clenched around his fingers as she cried out his name, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded.

He continued to work her through the waves, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Such a good girl for me. Look at how beautifully you fall apart in my hands.”

As she came down from her high, still trembling and panting, Alexandra’s desire flared again.

“More,” she pleaded, her voice a hoarse whisper. “I want more.”

Oliver’s laugh was dark and sensual. “Such an eager little thing,” he murmured approvingly. “You want me, don’t you? All of me.”

“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes wild with desire. “I need you, Oliver. Now.”

He didn’t make her wait. He positioned himself between her legs and guided the thick head of his manhood to her entrance. He hesitated for just a heartbeat, his eyes locking onto hers.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked, his voice gravelly, barely restrained.

“Yes,” she moaned, tangling her fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. “Please.”

With a slow, deliberate push, he slid inside her inch by inch, filling her completely. The stretch was intense, a delicious burn that made her gasp and cling to him.

He paused for a moment, his forehead pressed against hers. “God, you’re so tight,” he groaned. “So perfect. Made for me.”

Alexandra wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, the pain quickly fading into a pleasure that made her toes curl.

“D-Don’t stop,” she moaned, her voice raw with need. “I need you. Harder.”

Oliver’s eyes flashed, and a primal, possessive growl rumbled in his chest. “As you wish, darling.”

He pulled back slowly, almost torturously, before thrusting into her again with more force. He set a rhythm, slow and deliberate at first, each stroke pushing her higher.

But soon, his restraint snapped.

His movements became more frenzied, more desperate. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he drove into her harder, faster, claiming her with every thrust.

“Yes!” Alexandra cried out, her nails raking down his back, leaving red lines in their wake. “Just like that… Don’t stop!”

He pounded into her, their bodies moving in perfect harmony, like a dance they had practiced over and over. Her cries of pleasure filled the room, mixing with his deep, guttural groans. It was intoxicating; the sound of his moans, the feel of him inside her, filling her…

“God, you feel so good,” he gritted out. “You’re mine, Alexandra. Only mine.”

“Yes,” she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut as another wave of pleasure built inside her. “Yours, Oliver. Only yours.”

Her words sent him over the edge. With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside her as his climax crashed over him, his seed spilling into her as he groaned her name.

“Alexandra.”

That… That was music to her ears.