Chapter 23

23

Patience could feel the slight rasp of Dorian's stubble as she kissed him, and it sent a warm tingle through her entire body.

She didn't want to disturb the healing scabs of his cuts, and thought he might gently push her away, but his arms wrapped around her, locking her against him. His hard chest heaved in unison with hers. He deepened their kiss, tongues tangling, and her head swam with the pungent and sweet taste of him.

His mouth trailed scorching kisses along her neck, lower, lower, until his lips brushed the swell of her breasts peeking above her bodice. It felt like he was leaving places of sparking energy on her skin, and her breasts felt hot and heavy, too constricted in her corset. Her hands tangled in his dark hair, surprisingly silky, his lips hot on her skin.

She was a writhing creature of a strange, sweet need…and he was the only thing that could soothe it. She moaned and tilted her head back when his hand cupped her breast, his thumb stroking against her nipple, and even through the fabric of the corset, it tightened with a sharp, delicious ache. She shuddered and he cursed.

"Good God, Duchess…" he murmured. "If you're writhing like this when I touch you through clothes, how will you writhe when?—"

He stopped abruptly and breathed into her neck, just holding her. She felt something hard and hot between his legs pressing against her stomach, the mysterious bulge she'd felt before.

"When…what?" she asked through hungry gasps of air, her body still swimming in the pleasure he'd just brought her.

"Nothing," he mumbled and let go of her, to her disappointment.

"Well, aren't I breaking rule number two?" she asked. "Something about no wifely duties? Shouldn't I be…um"—heat broke through her skin—"punished?"

He exhaled sharply, his dark gaze on her. He swallowed hard. "No wifely duties have been executed, dear girl. Not yet anyway."

"Oh…" She swallowed, too.

Heavens, how could she get him to do that to her again? How could she convince him to touch her as he had with the spanking…and that other night when he'd made her body soar. She wondered if she could do the same beautiful things to him as he did to her.

"What are wifely duties, exactly?" she asked.

He closed his eyes tight, breathing harder. His arm was pressed against the wall behind her, and he crushed the heavy curtain into his fist.

"Goddamn, woman, you're the biggest temptation I've ever had to resist."

She bit her lower lip. She was closer, perhaps? "Why?"

He opened his eyes. They were dark and penetrating, and she felt pinned to the spot. "Because I've never wanted to break my own rules like I want to do now."

"Oh…" she murmured, feeling a satisfied smile spread on her lips. "So you do want me to perform the wifely duties?"

His glare intensified, his nostrils flaring as he breathed quicker. "There's nothing in this world I want more."

"Well… Why don't you let me, then?"

A pained expression crossed his face. "I'm hanging by a thread… And, believe me, my restraint is for your own good."

"I do not even know what wifely duties are," she said. "How would I know what not to do? Do you not think you ought to…teach me?"

"You know not what you ask," he ground out, voice raw. "I am not a gentle lover."

"And I'm not a flower," she said. "You're mistaken if you think I am."

She wasn't the naive girl who had come to this house. She wasn't yet someone like him, so decisive and certain in what he wanted. Perhaps she wasn't yet a true duchess. But she knew she wanted him, and she wanted this marriage.

He brushed his knuckles against her cheek, the pained expression intensifying. "You are most certainly a Rose."

She grinned. "Why, was that a jest, my lord?"

"You bring out the most surprising things in me, sweet girl. Branches I thought dried and broken off a long time ago."

"They didn't die," she said as she cupped his angled face with her palm, her calloused thumb brushing across his high cheekbone. "I can still see them. Let me revive them. I'm known to have a green thumb."

He groaned but stood still, just working his jaw as though in pain.

She needed to nudge him only a little. Just one tiny nudge, and he'd cave .

She didn't know what it might be but thought perhaps it was in the region of her breasts, which he'd seemed to enjoy kissing and touching just a moment ago.

Never breaking eye contact, she pulled the neckline of her dress down slightly, exposing more of her breasts to him. "Rest assured, whatever those forbidden wifely duties are…I want them as much as you do."

Just an inch or two of flesh was enough. His gaze dropped to her breasts, and a shudder passed through him. She watched his resolve snap like a twig.

"To hell with the rules," he growled, and the next moment he was on her.

Lips on her lips, he wrapped his arms around her, locking her to him in an unbreakable bond. He kissed her like he had been starving his whole life, with deep, hungry licks, lips brushing, gliding, and leaving her breathless. She responded with the same vigor, unable to breathe. All thoughts evaporated, and there was just an aching need in her whole body to be pressed against him, to have his fingers, his hands, his thighs, his stomach, his chest, and, God please, his lips on her…

She may have raised one of her legs to wrap it around his hips. She may have clutched his coat with her hands like she wanted to climb him.

"Are you certain?" he whispered against her lips.

"Yes. But you might need to tell me what to do," she breathed out. "How to be a good wife. How to please you."

Then she was airborne, and she realized he'd picked her up and was carrying her. The sheet from the sofa flew like a ghost across the room, and he laid her on the soft cushions, towering over her, even half crouching.

"First thing you need to do," he murmured, "is to give in to the sensations of your body. Everything you're feeling, everything you want to do is natural. "

He kissed her in large strokes, the feel of his lips and tongue against hers wanton and wonderful. "Does this feel good?" he murmured as his mouth left hers and kissed her jaw. His hand traveled up and down her body, turning her into pliable, hot wax.

"Yes," she moaned, purring like a kitten. "Oh heavens, yes!"

Everything she wanted to do was natural… And she had always been a good student. Echoing his movements, she dragged her hands down his coat, his waistcoat, his shirt, aching to feel his naked chest and his stomach.

"Does this feel good to you?" she asked. "I'd like to please you. Show me how."

"Would you still like to?" he asked. "Even after everything ugly you learned about me?"

"Yes. More than you know."

Something dangerous flared in the depths of his eyes then, a hunger that sent a thrill racing down her spine. With a growl, he captured her mouth in a searing kiss that left her breathless and aching. His lips blazed a trail of fire down the column of her throat, his fingers deftly unfastening the buttons of her bodice to bare the creamy swells of her breasts.

"Exquisite," he breathed, his tongue darting out to taste her skin.

His mouth and hands mapped the contours of her body, igniting every nerve, and she was writhing, his body over her the only thing keeping her in place. She felt him push up the skirt of her gown and her chemise. And when his fingers delved into the slick heat at the apex of her thighs, she cried out, back arching off the sofa.

His fingers moved over her with expert strokes, coaxing her higher and higher.

She moaned and arched her back still further.

"That's it, my sweet," Dorian purred. "Surrender to the pleasure. This is called your clitoris, right here." He rubbed the sensitive nub.

Clitoris…

He kept rubbing and teasing her, and soon, she was quivering on the edge of a precipice.

"Dorian, please…" she whimpered, nails digging into the sofa's upholstery.

He chuckled. "Yes, darling, your clit is a marvelous place…"

His finger traveled to her entrance.

"But your body is capable of so much more."

His fingers circled her entrance, inserting the tip of one into her, and she relaxed into his touch. He was pressing into something inside her, and she felt pressure, more and more intense. She wanted him deeper.

"What is it capable of?" she asked.

"To take me in. Inside you. Your pleasure will be even greater… In combination with your clit, and this beautiful spot… I can make you feel so good, love. Your body was designed to feel good."

"Designed to take your fingers inside?" she asked. "I liked that very much when you did it before."

"Not just my fingers, love. But there's a part of your body that stops the penetration because you're a virgin. It might hurt the first time. There might be blood. Or it might not. Every woman is different. However, it's likely there will be just a little pain the first time, and then after that, it will all be very, very good. I will make sure of it."

As his thumb found her clitoris again, and he resumed his teasing, the pressure passed.

"If at any moment you want me to stop, tell me, and I will. Do you understand?"

Stop? That was the last thing she wanted him to do at the moment, but it was nice to know she had the choice .

"I understand," she murmured, opening her legs wide. "Will it feel as good as what you're doing with your thumb and your mouth?"

He nodded, closed his eyes as though in pain, then rose and began undressing himself. Her sex clenched tighter as he opened one button after another of his coat.

Without looking away for a moment, his gaze always dark and intense on her, he dropped his black tailored coat to the floor. Her eyes widened as they lowered to the very large bulge between his legs, its shape clearly visible beneath his breeches, and a shock of fear ran through her.

He unbuttoned his scarlet waistcoat, and he was left in the breeches and his white shirt, the muscles of his broad shoulders rolling under the fabric. He tugged the shirt from his breeches and pulled it over his shoulders.

"Heavens…" she murmured, breathless.

He was so beautifully carved, he could be a Greek statue—broad shoulders, the hard outlines of biceps, and a very defined chest. He wasn't bulky but tall and lean, with ridges on his hard stomach that led into straight hips like a perfect triangle, pointing down towards the mysterious bulge.

"Do you like what you see, Duchess?" he purred.

"Yes…um…yes, very much."

His gaze dropped to her spread thighs. "So do I."

She chuckled, but the smile died on her face when he dropped his breeches and stepped out of his boots.

And she saw what the bulge was.

It was his member. Long, thick…it seemed enormous. And it was pointing straight at her. It was the size of a very large candlestick.

"This is what will go inside you, darling," he said as he palmed his impressive organ. "If you want to."

She couldn't speak and simply opened and closed her mouth. Even a tip of his finger caused uncomfortable pressure. How would this ever fit?

And yet, a strange sort of heat rushed through her. Being taken by him that way, being connected body to body, soul to soul…

"Is this what you meant by wifely duties?" she asked.

"Yes, darling."

"And will it fit in?"

"It will. And you'll love it. I promise. And if not, I'll stop. So help me God."

She swallowed and nodded. "I just mean, it's so big, I don't know how it can ever not…hurt."

He leaned over her and stretched along her on the sofa. He was so tall, he couldn't fully extend his body, but he pressed against her, hot and hard and so pleasant.

He kissed her and took her hand in his, laying it on his naked chest. Her fingers caressed his smooth skin under the dusting of soft, dark hair. She was touching him for the first time, and her skin was ablaze with a prickly, beautiful energy. A tall, long, naked male lay next to her, warming her with his heat like he was a living and breathing furnace. She could see scars on his body, perhaps from his fencing lessons or his wild childhood days. He had only his right glove on.

She ran her hand down his hard muscles. "I love touching you," she whispered. "You're so solid, and big, and beautiful."

He chuckled. "Beautiful?"

"You are."

"It's you who's beautiful, love. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Her throat clenched at the compliment, and then he led her fingers to pass the soft curls and then encircle his member… She gasped. Good Lord, it was hot and hard and yet silky.

"What do I do?" she asked .

"Caress me," he said hoarsely as his throat bobbed.

She began running the tips of her fingers up and down his length. A low growl escaped his throat, resonating deep in her belly, and her own sex clenched. He curled her palm around his thickness.

"Like so, love," he managed. "Up and down."

"Like so?" She did as he asked.

Her reward was his head falling back and him sucking in a sharp breath. "Yes, like so. Heaven help me…"

She kept doing that, biting her lip, and watching the veins on his neck thicken as she pumped her hand faster.

"This is how I will move inside you," he explained as he watched her from hooded eyes.

"So it will be good for you?" she asked.

"Very…very good. I don't expect it to get better for me anywhere else in the entire world, love."

She wanted to please him. The idea of pain, from his organ inside her, made her afraid. But what did she know? She had no true idea what wifely duties were or how to perform them. He was clearly so much more experienced. She just wished naive girls like her were better prepared and informed about these things.

He shuddered as she squeezed him a little tighter, and then he suddenly flipped himself and was on top of her, his weight like a pleasure on its own. He pinned her hands over her head and kissed her.

The kiss was contained hunger, deep and slow. A promise and a vow.

He kissed down her body, massaging her as he went, and then…quite shockingly, not just his fingers were on her sex, but…oh heavens—his mouth!

She gasped as the most velvety pleasure spilled through her .

"Oh, Duke!" she cried as he began sucking and licking at the center of her pleasure. "Oh my Lord!"

She was already burning and swollen, and it didn't take her long at all for her to near the peak she'd reached the first time when he'd spanked her and the second time when he'd relieved her tension in bed.

But before she could reach it, he withdrew and towered over her, nudging her thighs wider apart. She wanted him inside her.

He caressed her sex with his own, like he had with his fingers and his tongue just now, and she almost fell into shudders once again. She was sleek and wet, and his member glided easily all around her entrance. Every stroke brought her pleasure, and she wondered if he might be mistaken and it actually wouldn't hurt at all.

He positioned his member against her folds and looked at her. "If at any moment you want to stop, I will."

She nodded, and he began pressing into her. She widened her legs farther and welcomed the stretching, the intense pressure. There was a pinch and something broke and he was inside.

She cried in pain, and he froze, holding her but panting hard against her.

"I'm sorry, my darling," he murmured hotly, his eyes dark and shining with concern and tenderness. "Are you all right?"

She was so full. She never thought he'd fit, but he did, stretching her to impossible degrees, and yet she loved every minute of it. There was a burning and a tingling, but she craved more.

She nodded.

With infinite care, Dorian pushed forward in one smooth thrust. Patience gasped at the sharp twinge, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He stilled, his breath ragged against her throat.

He brushed tender kisses over her face as he began to move, slowly withdrawing before surging forward again. The discomfort quickly transmuted into a growing ache of pleasure that had Patience lifting her hips to meet his gentle thrusts.

"That's it, love. Take your pleasure from me," Dorian rasped. "I want to feel you come apart in my arms."

His words ignited a wildfire in her blood. Wanton moans spilled from her lips as she moved with him, chasing the bliss only he could provide. Dorian slid a hand between their straining bodies, finding her little clitoris at the apex of her thighs. He circled it over and over, and Patience could feel infinite pleasure, from both sides, and she was so incredibly full of Dorian, surrounded by him.

She was his. Completely his.

Her release crashed over her like nothing she'd ever felt before. She cried out, shuddering as the climax dragged her over the edge of ecstasy.

With a harsh groan, Dorian followed her over the edge, his big body shuddering as she felt a pulsing sensation deep inside, accompanied by a flood of warmth. For a long moment, they clung to each other, hearts pounding in unison as they breathed each other's air.

"It requires every ounce of my self-control not to flip you over and take you again, the way I'm aching to," Dorian confessed gruffly, his length still semihard within her. "Hard and rough and so deep you'll feel me for days."

With a possessive growl, Dorian captured her mouth again. Patience had never felt so cherished, so desired, so utterly alive. She was someone else now. Stronger. More vibrant. And she had hope for them. In his arms, she had found completion—and she would spend eternity endeavoring to give him the same.