Chapter 17

Burning Desires

Beatrice stared into the Duke’s eyes, and she shivered beneath his intense gaze. He sat on the same side of the carriage with her, his body turned to face her. He had a hand on her cheek, and they were locked into position, both breathing heavily.

There was a silent conversation, both of them asking for what they wanted. Beatrice hadn’t expected her actions to evoke such passion within the Duke, and they had barely spent any time at the garden party before leaving. Beatrice did not mind that at all. She would get what she wanted, what she had waited a week for.

The Duke leaned in close and kissed her softly. Her body was begging him to take her right there and then.

He pulled back and stared at her again. Beatrice could not speak even if she wanted to, and he had not spoken since they climbed into the carriage. He didn’t need to say anything for her to know what he wanted. He placed his free hand on her other cheek and regarded her with a sweet smile.

The act might have been sweet, but the response it elicited from Beatrice was anything but. The longer they remained clothed and in sweet embraces, the more she lusted for him. She needed his body, and she could barely wait a second more.

When the coach halted, Edwin didn’t wait for the driver or footman to open the door. He opened it himself, grabbed Beatrice by the hand, and walked quickly toward the manor.

He started running as soon as they were inside, still tightly holding her hand. Beatrice laughed as they sprinted up the stairs and down the halls, the sound echoing through the manor.

Then they were in his room, and the door was closed behind them. Beatrice was not nervous anymore. She had been nervous for a week, but it all disappeared now that the moment had come.

She and Edwin stared at each other, both panting after running up the stairs and down the long hall. Her chest was heaving, and her heart was pounding against her ribcage.

The moment did not last long, however. They communicated without words, both coming together, the Duke’s hands cradling her head before their lips met. As they kissed, they ripped and tugged at each other’s clothes. Beatrice’s dress was quickly removed, and she kicked off her shoes. The Duke turned his attention to taking off his own clothes, and when the kiss halted, they both stood in their undergarments.

Beatrice had been in that situation before, with the Duke fully dressed the first time, but now it felt completely different. Edwin’s eyes raked up and down her shift-covered body, and she did not feel exposed. Back in Lord Pemberton’s room, she had been petrified and excited. In the Duke’s room, she was only excited.

The outline of her small nipples on the thin fabric was a testament to that. When she glanced down, she spotted the bulge in the Duke’s drawers, which only excited her more.

They took each other in. The Duke had seen her in this state before, but he looked her over as if he were seeing her for the first time. Beatrice’s eyes were hungry, roving over his body and finding it eerily similar to how she had envisioned him in her dream.

His chest was broad and sprinkled with thick tufts of black hair. His legs were thick like tree trunks, and his arms bulged like the foothills of the Pennines. His skin was slightly tanned, begging for her touch. It was overwhelming, and she wanted to touch every part of him.

Suddenly, she struggled to breathe, overcome by anticipation.

The Duke sprang into action, dropping his drawers and moving toward her at a startling pace. He grabbed her shift and pulled it over her heel, pressing his lips to hers, his warm body making her shiver in pleasure.

Beatrice wrapped her arms around him as they kissed, running her fingers up and down his bare back. She knew she would explode at the slightest touch, and it did not help that his engorged member throbbed against her thigh. She wanted to reach down and touch it, but she was afraid. She was not nervous about what would come, but she was unprepared. She had no idea what she might feel or what to do.

Edwin took her by the waist and lifted her as if she were a bag of feathers. He moved her backward, his lips still pressed to hers, and placed her on the bed.

As Beatrice lay back on the soft blankets, she realized she had not seen anything in the Duke’s room, and then she almost giggled at the silliness of the thought. Perhaps her mind was trying to distract her.

That was not possible anymore when the Duke lay atop her and kissed down her cheek, neck, collarbone, and breasts. He paid attention to both, working the flesh slowly until he licked her right nipple.

A shiver ran up Beatrice’s spine, and she lost the use of her limbs. Her entire body felt limp under his touch, in stark contrast to his rigid shaft, ready to enter her.

He licked her left nipple, and she felt it stiffen as goose pimples covered her creamy mounds.

Will he hurt me? Edwin would never hurt me, but that does not mean it won’t be painful.

The Duke kissed his way down to her navel and her hipbone, where he tickled her gently with his lips, then to the tuft of hair at the apex of her thighs, and finally to her sacred place. He moved back up quickly, and Beatrice could tell it was time.

She readied herself mentally—there was nothing she could do with her body now. Edwin kissed her gently, nipping her bottom lip. He placed one hand beside her head, and the other explored her body from her neck to?—

“Oh!” Beatrice gasped as he entered her.

It was… not painful, but it was uncomfortable—some slight discomfort, but the most wonderful rush of warm pleasure she had ever experienced. He thrust into her to the hilt as she gasped and moaned some more, and then his hand trailed back up her body, coming to rest on her cheek.

He looked into her eyes, and she nodded in response. Slowly, he pulled out of her, then plowed her depths again. She felt another twinge of discomfort, but the accompanying pleasure overshadowed it.

Again, he slid out of her and back in, and with each stroke of his glorious shaft, the discomfort dissipated, and the rapture rose.

Beatrice recovered the use of her limbs as the well of delight grew in her stomach. She ran her hands down his back and grabbed his muscular rear, digging her nails into his flesh. She needed him more than she had needed anything before. She pulled him into her furiously, and he took the hint.

Edwin increased his speed, plowing her frantically, thrusting in and out of her over and over. Beatrice pulled him back into her quicker each time, and he increased his speed until he could no more. He maintained the pace, working like a piston, making love to her like a man possessed.

Beatrice held onto his rear, but it felt like his rear was moving her hands now and not the other way around. She closed her eyes, her hips bucking against his, and she had never felt closer to anyone in her life.

The well filled and filled, the feeling indescribable. And then it overflowed and burst, flooding her with pleasure as the Duke climaxed, spilling inside her.

For a brief ten seconds, the Duke moved even quicker, drilling into her with his shaft until the pleasure became unbearable. Beatrice screamed, and somewhere in the middle, he fell onto her, spent. Beatrice wrapped her arms around him, holding on as if her life depended on it.

“That was amazing,” she panted.

“That was only the beginning,” Edwin purred.