Page 46 of The Duke and the Runaway Bride

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.

ChapterEighteen

The Morning After

Edwin woke up, and he was immediately on edge. Something was not right—something was different. He was about to leap out of bed when he realized what was different. Beatrice lay in the bed next to him. It had been a long time since he’d woken up to a woman in his bed, especially one as beautiful as his wife.

She slept peacefully, an angel beneath his blankets. He did not want to wake her, so he lay gazing upon her gorgeousness. Her breathing was shallow and deep, and her chest rose and fell as she slumbered. Edwin stopped himself from reaching out and cupping her milky mounds as they rose and fell. The blankets had slipped down low enough to give him a view of her more intimate parts.

He watched her bosom rise and fall like waves crashing against the shore before shifting his gaze back to her face. She smiled as she slept, her dimples on show. Edwin found that it was harder to take his eyes off them than her bosom.

Beatrice sighed as she slept, as if she were dreaming about something pleasant. She eventually stirred and blinked her eyes open. Edwin looked away from her dimples and into her deep brown eyes.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” Beatrice replied, smiling and stretching.

She let out a groan as she reached her arms up, her hands pressing against the headboard. Then, she let out a small gasp as she realized she was naked in bed with the Duke.

“My goodness!” she squealed, grabbing the blankets and pulling them up to her neck. She blushed pale pink as she suddenly became shy.

“After what we did last night, you don’t need to hide yourself from me,” Edwin teased.

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