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“Please,” she begged, pushing on his shoulder. “Stop laughing.”
“Oh,” he breathed, raising himself back up. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Such innocence. I see there is much for you to learn.”
She turned away, the desire and rush she felt fading with her discomfort. “Do not tease me, so,” she protested. “It is what society has dictated, that I should remain innocent and demure, pure for my future husband. Now, he mocks me for it.”
“I am not mocking you,” he protested.
“You are!” He brought his hand back to her chest, caressing her skin gently. When she did not immediately turn back to face him, he reached up to turn her face back to his.
“Let me show you,” he whispered, kissed her softly again, and raised himself up. Hovering over her again, he kissed her mouth, slowly snaking his tongue between her lips. She let him, more hesitantly. He brought a hand to her face, caressing her cheek as he kissed her, then cupped her breast again, circling his thumb around her nipple. She groaned against his mouth, and he pressed his forehead against hers, breathing deeply.
Lowering his mouth to the nipple he caressed, he took the tip between his teeth, gently pulling as he moved his other hand to her other breast. She closed her eyes, relishing the sensation of his kisses against her breasts. He circled his tongue around her nipple, nipped it lightly, then blew softly against her. Her nipple stiffened in response, and he flicked his tongue across it. When he moved his mouth to the other side, he resumed his caresses on the stiff peak. She softened against him, surprised and pleased by his ministrations.
Once her second nipple received the same attention as the first, he moved his mouth to her ribs, trailing kisses as his stubble tickled her skin. His hand slipped between her legs to caress her folds, and she could feel the dampness and heat building in her core.
He returned to his place between her legs, spreading them gently. She expected him to lay upon her and consummate their marriage at last, but he shocked her when he brought his mouth down between her legs. She stiffened, starting to protest, but he flicked his tongue over her, sending fire through her core.
“What are you –” she tried to protest.
He raised up his mouth briefly, shushing her, “Relax and trust me.”
She tried to relax, staring up at the dark ceiling as he lowered his mouth back between her legs. He slipped his hands under her buttocks, raising her hips up to his mouth, and he gently kissed the top of her slit then flicked his tongue over the nub between. She gasped, flinching at the sensation, but he held her against him. When he started to suckle gently on the nub, she gasped again, closing her eyes, finally understanding.
As she relaxed, the fire in her core returned, and an ache built between her legs. Relinquishing herself to the sensation, she pressed up against his mouth, and he indulged her, sliding his tongue between her folds, sucking on her, kissing her most sensitive places. Her fingers found his hair, twisting in the locks as she struggled not to force him more firmly against her.
She whimpered as the sensation continued to build, and briefly, she wondered if this feeling was what Lizbeth referred to as the pleasure and ecstasy that a husband might give his wife. She thought she might break if the feeling grew any further, or continued, but she could not force herself to break away from his mouth. She needed a break, something, but she had no idea how to tell the Duke.
He seemed to guess at her internal struggle, but she gasped when she felt him slide a finger inside of her. The foreign sensation shocked her, but he moved carefully, coaxing a secret place that restoked the fire, and she cried out, writhing against him. He did not release her; instead, he increased his efforts, circling his tongue around her nub as his finger teased inside of her.
She almost cried out again in protest, that she could take no more, when a wave of release washed over her, sending shudders through her entire body. She gasped in surprise, panting to catch her breath as her body tensed and relaxed, trembling in the aftermath. As she whimpered, the Duke rose up from her, wiping his mouth with his hand, a smug smile on his face.
“That is a taste of what you can expect,” he told her, climbing from the bed.
“Where are you going?” she asked, half dazed. She tried to sit up, but her body felt weak as she propped herself up on her elbows. As he retreated, she realized that she had wanted him, expected him, to stay and continue their intimacy, and suddenly she felt disappointed that he moved to leave.
“I told you I would go slow,” he said. “You have your pleasure for tonight, and I bid you goodnight.”
“But –” she protested, confused. She thought she would have longer to touch him, get acquainted with his body, and learn what it would take to please him, but he seemed adamant about getting away from her.
He shook his head. “No more. You will need your rest.”
Confused again, she watched as he picked up his shirt and buttoned it up slowly, his member still erect under the long tails. As he pulled on his pants, he tucked his shirt in carelessly.
“But you have not lain with me,” she said. “You have only just told me that you would not go back to normal until after you have lain with a woman.”
“Back to normal?” he asked, blinking. “Oh, no. I will be fine.” She frowned as he headed back to the door.
“Rest for now,” he told her, and before she could protest further, he slipped back through the door.
She fell back into the bed, confused by what had happened. In part, she had gotten something that she wanted, his attention. However, she was no closer to achieving their goal of producing an heir. Though, if he was willing to give her more pleasure such as that, she would not complain. If he would not talk to her but would kiss her and bring her to such ecstasy, perhaps this marriage would not be so bad.
If nothing else, when he was in bed with her, he was much more pleasant to be around.
