Chapter Seven

"M y love," Philip gasped. "You are making me crazy with desire. My mind, my body, my soul. I want you. From the moment I set eyes on you, I've wanted you."

"And I want you." She locked her hands around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

The next thing she knew, she was once again in the air. Their lips didn't part as he walked them to the bed, his arms locked around her buttocks and her feet dangling. Her shoes fell off, tapping to the rug.

And then he was laying her down on the soft blankets and covering her with his long, muscular body. Her head sunk into the pillow and she arched to meet his kisses.

It was then she felt it, the thick wedge of solid flesh behind his breeches. It pressed up against her groin, long and hard—demanding.

"Oh…" She pulled back and stared up at him.

"Now you have the proof of my need for you, my wife," he said, giving her a wickedly seductive smile.

"But…but…it is so big."

He raised his eyebrows. "You thought that I would be small?"

"I thought… I don't know what I thought."

He sat up so he was straddling her hips and took hold of the bow that held the neckline of her gown in place. "We will get to know each other's bodies well." He pulled the bow and the gown loosened. He did the same to the next bow, exposing more of the slope of her breasts.

She was breathing fast, her mind a rush of desire and worries of inexperience.

When the material was loose enough, he pushed it aside so her breasts were uncovered. Her pale-pink nipples were tight and pointed and her sternum shone slightly with perspiration. She studied his face—he appeared enraptured, mesmerized—and then he cupped the outer edges of her breasts and brought them together.

"Philip," she gasped, his touch on her tender flesh so new and exciting.

He tipped forward and took her left nipple into his mouth.

She caught her breath as wet heat sent a new shot of desire through her chest, her belly, and to her cunny. Her nipple hardened further, until it almost throbbed, and she ran her fingers into his silken hair and tugged at the roots.

After a moment, he switched to the other nipple and she closed her eyes, pushing her chest up for more. The sensation was heavenly and had set her entire body aflame with lust.

"I want to kiss you all over," he said, trailing his lips to her sternum and then up her neck to her mouth.

"Yes," she managed against her lips. "I want that. I want it all."

Her words seemed to increase his need and he tore at his tunic, throwing it aside, then sat and pushed at his boots.

Joanna's eyes widened as she watched the muscles in his shoulders and back bunch and flex. His skin was perfect, smooth and tan, and a sprinkle of dark hair sat at his sternum. She could look at him forever. He was more perfect than any Greek or Roman statue.

"We should take this off properly," he said, turning his attention to her gown.

She nodded and lifted her hips, pushing at it, fumbling with the sleeves, getting frustrated.

But then it was gone and she lay there, flat, legs together, arms at her sides and utterly naked before him.

He stilled, his lips damp, his eyes wide, and his breathing heavy. The look he gave the length of her, a heated caress with his eyes, had her skin prickling and a delicious shiver wending up her spine.

For so long, she'd wanted to know what it was like to lie with a man. To be desired. To want and be wanted.

Now she knew, in one look of adoration from the archduke, exactly what that felt like.

"In the good name of the Lord, all my prayers have been answered," he said quietly. "You are perfection."

"I am happy to please you."

"Oh, you do…you will." He lay on his side next to her and kissed her cheek as he cupped her breast. "And I will please you, too." He caught her damp nipple between his thumb and finger and tugged gently.

She moaned and closed her eyes. Her virginal body was his to do with as he pleased.

"Tell me," he whispered against her ear.

"What? Tell you what?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he slipped his fingertips downward. Over her belly, into her navel, then lower, to the small crop of hair that grew at the juncture of her thighs. "Tell me, have you ever touched yourself here?"

"Philip." She looked up at him. His face was so close. "That is a sin, as well you know."

"I didn't ask whether or not it was a sin," he said, stroking the short hairs this way and that. "I asked if you'd touched yourself here. In the dead of the night, when all alone. Have you touched yourself and wondered what I'd be like?"

She paused for a moment then nodded.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, it's a yes."

"Good, because I wondered what it would be like to lie with you, to feel you around my fingers, under my tongue, gripping my cock."

"Oh…I…really…I…" Her mouth formed a perfect ‘o' as he slid between her cunny lips and pressed on the small nub that gave her pleasure.

"Open up," he whispered onto her mouth. "Let me in."

She hesitated.

"What is it?" He frowned.

"I…"

"Tell me. Whatever it is. I need to know."

"I am untouched by a man, Philip, as you well know and…"

His frown softened. "And you are scared?"

"No." She shook her head. "I am not scared, I want it. I want you…"

"So what is it?"

She touched his cheek. "Please, I just ask this: Be gentle with me."

"My beautiful wife." His eyes shone with emotion. "You are my most treasured possession. I will treat you more gently than if you were made of Murano glass, or the finest porcelain. That is my promise to you."

Her chest ballooned with gratitude. She had no idea what was in store for her, but if Philip promised to be gentle, she believed him.

"Now part your thighs and let me know your sweet womanhood," he whispered.

She did as he'd asked, her belly trembling with anticipation.

Once again, he kissed her, and as he did, he ran his fingers through her cunny, stroking the plump flesh, finding her damp entrance and then stroking back up to her nub.

She shivered with longing and gripped his biceps, feeling them tense as he moved his arm, his hand, his fingers.

He was exploring her and spreading the moisture that had grown between her legs. She smelled her own arousal and groaned, pressing her head into the pillow. "More," she gasped. She knew exactly where she needed to be touched, but would he know?

"You are demanding of me?" he asked, a note of humor in his voice.

"I want you to show me what you know."

"Oh, I know a lot."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "And who taught you?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"I just do."

He found her entrance with the tip of his finger and eased in an inch.

She gasped and tightened her grip on him.

"I have been taught by the girls at court," he said, "in preparation for this exact moment. I needed to be ready for when I had a wife, whose pleasure is my everything."

Joanna couldn't answer—the sensation of him there, inside her, was overwhelming. And now he was going deeper, sliding in through her moisture.

"Heaven help me," he murmured. "You are so tight."

"Philip," she gasped, running her hand down his arm to clutch his wrist. "Oh…it is…"

"It is going to feel so good for you…and me." He kissed her and connected the heel of his hand with her cunny, over her bud.

She moaned softly and curled her toes. Yes. That was where she needed it.

Her husband seemed to know this and rocked his hand, pushing his finger into her and rolling over her most sensitive spot.

She inhaled sharply and canted her hips. The connection increased and she drew up her knees, greedy for more.

He added another finger, tunneling deeper into her cunny.

"Oh, yes…yes…" she said, pulling him in for a kiss. "Philip."

He kissed her with enthusiasm and worked with skill and determination. Soon, the pleasure she'd known before, on her own, was building. A pressure that had started in her pelvis and was growing, swelling, demanding release.

She was panting now, her heart rate soaring and her pulse deafening in her ears. Her body was alive with need and it was something only Philip could satisfy.

"Don't stop." She gasped desperately. "Oh, please, don't stop. Don't stop."

He stopped and pulled out.

She wailed. "No, I… Oh… Why…?"

In one swift movement, he'd rid himself of his breeches. His cock sprung out, thick, long and hard. The dark end was bulbous, the root springing from a tangle of pale-brown hair.

"This is the right time," he said, moving over her. "Trust me. Trust me in this moment the way you have never trusted anyone before."

She nodded, parting her legs so he could settle between them. In an instant, his cock was probing at her entrance. So wide and hard, she didn't think it would ever fit.

"Your pleasure was just about to take you," he said, locking his arms and looking down at where they were about to join. "And it would have been good with my fingers, do not doubt that, but with my cock, you will feel like you have landed in paradise."

He curled his hips, claiming more of her, and let out a groan.

"My love." She reached for his chest, cupping his defined muscles.

"You feel so good," he said. "Your body is so warm and wet."

"And you are…so hard…and big." She battled to take him; he was going deep, stretching her, filling her. "Oh…"

Suddenly, he dropped down and caught her mouth in a kiss. Her breasts flattened to his chest and his body pressed up against her nub.

"Oh, my…" She arched her back and gripped his hips with her knees. He went deeper, so deep, his balls pressed up against her cunny.

"Find your pleasure," he whispered, rubbing up against her. "You were just about to find it again."

She nodded, canting to meet him. The pleasure was there. A burst of bliss just waiting to grip her entire body.

"And when you do…" he said, moving over her, in her, and on her with purpose. "I will find mine and we will be as one."

"Please…don't stop this time."

"I won't, my love. But please, find your pleasure…soon." He closed his eyes and appeared in deep concentration.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she concentrated on the pleasure growing between her legs. He was stimulating her with skill and the pressure was building. She trembled and shook and held her breath. It was there. Ready to release.

And then it did. She cried out, a pleasure-soaked wail, and dug her fingernails into his flesh as she was held hostage to ecstasy. Her cunny squeezed around him, holding his cock then releasing over and over. White-hot fingers of bliss stretched over her skin, shaking her limbs and creating pulses in her spine.

He half withdrew then pushed back in, then repeated the action, extending her bliss and finding his own.

His cock throbbed and he groaned long and gutturally. A full-body tremble attacked him and she held him tighter, holding him together, so it seemed.

"My love," he gasped, lifting his head from the crook of her neck. "You are… We are…perfect together." His brow was shiny and his face flushed.

"You are perfect," she said, pushing his hair back from his forehead. "I thank the Lord for you, for everything about you, but most of all, your gentleness and understanding."

"It is Him and our parents we should thank." He smiled. "It is not often my father has gotten it right for me, but you are most definitely right for me, Joanna of Castile."