Page 52 of The Duke and the Unwanted Bride

Frederick pulled back for a moment. His hand stroked her waist as he looked down at her. No words spoken, but a raised eyebrow as if in question. She nodded, suddenly feeling nervous yet infinitely excited.

Shaking, quivering, wanting what she did not know, Hannah spread her legs further. Frederick lowered himself between her thighs and lined himself up with her entrance.

“Ah…” She gasped. “That… stop… don’t… yes… keep going…”

She felt him slide inside her inch by inch. Opening her, burrowing in deeply as she accepted him. She felt a slight discomfort at first, but she soon relaxed as he fell forward, thrusting slowly until he was buried to the hilt inside her.

Ten minutes ago, he refused to touch her, and now he was inside her. This marriage, she knew, would never be the same again.

Frederick held her down as he thrust into her. Slowly at first, sliding out of her and then all the way back in. She gasped at the sensation, moaned and quivered as her heart raced and her breathing quickened. He started moving faster then, harder, greater thrusts that had the bed shaking. She wrapped her legs around his back, she ground her hips against him, and she screamed to let him know how good it felt.

She could feel him pulsating and throbbing inside her. She could feel his body begin to shake. No expert on marital copulation, even Hannah knew what was about to happen. She took his face and kissed him as he continued to thrust into her, wanting him to spill inside her.

Only then, suddenly, he pulled out of her.

“Wh—” She followed him, but he pushed her back down.

“Stay there,” he commanded as his hand wrapped around his member. His eyes drank her in, and he licked his lips as he stroked himself. “Do not even think of moving.”

“What are you…”

“Do… not… urgh!”

His body spasmed and then stiffened as his white, hot, sticky seed spilled all over the inside of her thigh.

Again, Hannah knew what was supposed to happen, and this certainly wasn’t it. As good as it had all been, that final moment felt strange to her, a signal that things were not quite as perfect as they might be.

But she did not say anything, as Frederick then fell down beside her, wrapped her in his arms, and kissed her on the lips and neck and cheek.

“That was… unexpected,” he panted, half-chuckling to himself. “Most unexpected.”

She frowned, still feeling the sticky mess on her inner thigh. “Most,” she muttered, not sure what else to say.

At best, she told herself that this was a step in the right direction at least and that clearly her husband’s resolve not to touch her had finally shattered. At worst… they were still not a perfectly married couple.

Oh sure, things might never be the same, and for that she was grateful. Her body was still hot. Shaking. Her heart was racing. Her breathing was slowly returning to normal. And in his arms, she felt happier than she had ever been.

But that mess on her inner thigh… what it signified spoke volumes.

Chapter Fifteen

Frederick woke up to the feeling of sunlight on his face. Eyes closed, it spread across him, warming him, making him smile as the fresh day dawned. He was having a good dream.

Hannah lay across his chest, her eyes closed, her breathing soft and peaceful. Frederick looked down at her sleeping face, smiling to himself—frowning also, for that smile confused him as much as anything.

There had always been the chance that upon waking, Frederick would feel waves of guilt and disappointment for what he had done last night. After all his talk of self-control and chastity, he had lost that control, his walls coming down as he had taken his wife in ways that just the thought of them made him stiffen beneath the sheets.

How had it happened? There was no need to question it, for it had felt like a long time coming. Really, the fact that he had heldout for so long should have been what impressed him most—at least that was what he told himself.

But it had happened, and he knew for that reason, there was no point in pretending that it had not, or trying to re-institute his rules of no touching or kissing. With how intense last night had been, how animalistic and raw and passionate, the only way he could keep himself from doing that again was if he was chained down.

“Good morning,” Hannah croaked, her eyes still closed, likely half-asleep but somehow sensing that he was awake.

“She wakes.”

“And he watches.” She chuckled. “See anything you like?”

“A few things.” He laughed. “I confess, this is not the worst way to wake up.”

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