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She blinked, suddenly taking in her surroundings. The room given to the Duke’s guardian was a grand one, perhaps originally intended for visiting nobility. Contrary to what she might have expected, it was elegantly decorated, the walls full of exquisite paintings and bookshelves with all her favourite volumes from the manor’s library.
He has prepared the room to have me here with him, Clara mused, a rush of gratitude welling up inside her. The wonderful man.
And at the back wall, beneath a grand canopy—the bed. She swallowed.
“It’s funny,” Clara said, tracing a finger along the elaborate bedspread. “For all the days and nights I longed to be with you, it never really crossed my mind that you would have a room of your own here in the St. George house. I know it sounds silly, but I must have imagined that you never left your study, even at night.”
Edward approached her, doffing his jacket and revealing his strong, lithe arms through his sheer white shirtsleeves. “I hope it is to your liking. If not, I’m sure we can manage some other arrangement.”
“Oh, no, it’s wonderful!” Clara exclaimed, turning to look at the ornate wooden bed frame, the sumptuous chairs and paintings that bedecked the walls. “It’s not so different from my room, really. But the fact that it’s all yours—well, ours, I suppose—makes it all feel so exciting, doesn’t it?”
“Well, it’s only for a while, anyway,” said Edward as he hastened to hang up his jacket. Clara eagerly took this opportunity to do a bit of surreptitious undressing of her own.
“After all, we shall only be here until Christopher comes of age in a few short years. After that, we shall be off on our own, I suppose. I know it may be a bit premature, Clara, but we could begin looking at possible houses soon, if you like. Do you think you would prefer to find somewhere in the city, or a larger estate out in the—”
Clara thrilled to see his reaction when Edward finally stopped his talking and turned to see her, stripped of her wedding gown and standing before him in the underthings Sophia had helped her pick out before the ceremony. His face turned such a vibrant shade of red, his jaw hanging open, that Clara had to struggle to suppress a giggle.
“I…” he stammered, then averted his eyes as he bit his lip.
“No,” she said, stepping forward and putting her hands on his cheeks. She turned his head to look at her, his eyes wide. Over the sound of her heart thundering in her chest, her lip quivering, Clara managed to say, “I want you to see me.”
The time for words was finished—now the two had nothing but pure, animal action left to them. Their lips found one another, and Clara gasped as she felt Edward’s hands find their natural place on her hips.
Somehow the remainder of their clothing disappeared into the ether, and then Clara was lying on the bed, looking up at her husband as she felt her womanhood grow warm and wet with yearning.
There they remained for a long moment—she regarding every inch of his tall, masculine frame, he drinking in the dips and curves of her body. Even as her eye lingered over his muscular chest, she could see his whole self flush with desire, his manhood hardening right before her.
Still, they spoke not a word as he came toward her, leaning over her on their marital bed.
Clara luxuriated in the slowness with which she felt Edward move himself along each inch of her body. Every kiss, every breath, every caress along her nude, pale skin yielded another discovery of a new place that elicited shudders from deep within her. She never knew she could feel so good from such innocuous places all over her. It was as though he were writing her anew, placing these seeds of pleasure throughout the map of her body with his own hands.
She felt something inside herself open, a growing emptiness that pulled at her and drove her muscles to grunting, animalistic movements. As Edward’s mouth gently caressed the sensitive flesh of her large, full breast, she felt herself claw at the sheet with frightening ferocity. As his fingers found her inner thigh her mouth opened in a silent plea. Then those fingers inched higher and higher, and the fire within her burned hotter still.
Clara’s fingers entwined in the curly dark hair atop Edward’s head, and as she looked into his eyes she saw a hunger that was all the more alluring for the fact that it was on the handsome face of the man she loved.
Without words she pled for him to continue his ministrations, feeling the openness inside her grow wider still. With a small, curious smile, Edward moved his fingers higher still, to the very apex of her feminine mound, brushing against something that made even the sublime pleasure she had felt until now pale by comparison.
It was as though she were struck by a thunderbolt. Clara struggled to hold on, though she could not remember what she was trying to leash or why. So instead she loosed the spirit inside her body, her spine arching forward, mouth hanging agape to let out the force of what had been conjured from within her.
“Oh—” she breathed. Edward moved his fingers again, ever so slightly…
Then the wave broke on the shores.
Clara was barely aware of what passed through her body during that long moment of her climax. When somehow it was finished, she felt as though years had passed, and she fought to catch her breath through wild eyes and a tangle of shimmering hair.
With a contented sigh, Edward lovingly brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and looked down at her with an indulgent smile. Clara could feel the throbbing of his hardness against her thigh, but despite the urgency of this body part, Edward seemed content to take his time and linger in this moment.
But I am not, she thought with surprise. And as Edward moved to roll to his side, Clara reached her arms out to lock him in place.
“No,” Clara whispered urgently into his ear, pulling Edward’s body closer to hers and thrilling at the shiver that ran through his frame at this invitation. “Now. Right now.”
She quivered, feeling his muscles tense as he leaned forward to nibble at her neck. Clara felt her feminine mound rise up needily, and as she opened her legs and wrapped them around his trunk, Edward entered her.
“Oh, Clara,” Edward moaned in a guttural voice. Forcing her eyes open through the rhythmic twisting that sent her into a paroxysm of pleasure, Clara saw a powerful need in his shining dark eyes.
“Yes,” she murmured, feeling the warmth they built as the force of their love grew hotter, and stronger, and more insistent, and more and more until—
With the force of a cannon blast, the lovers reached the summit of their pleasure as one. Clara felt herself consumed by the fire that Edward’s touch had stoked to the heat of the sun, and as they gave full-throated voice to their mutual ecstasy she felt the rest of the world fade away into soft white light.
“I—I love you, husband,” Clara panted, tears squeezing from her eyes from the enormity of what had just passed.
Edward smiled that wonderful, boyish smile, the one she had learned only she could reliably coax out of him. “And I love you, wife.” He gave her a tender kiss on her warm, swollen lips and embraced her still tighter, resting her head on his chest.
And the golden warmth of the moment suffused the two of them in its aura, and the lovers fell asleep in one another’s arms.
