Page 30 of His Abandoned Duchess

He responded in kind, sweeping his tongue against her as he reached for the plentiful skirts of her half gown and chemise. Richard’s dexterous fingers found the dainty laces at the top of her stockings, tugging them free and assisting the fabric in its descent down her legs—first one, then the other.

Amelia’s skin hummed, the sensation of exposure making the lust that intoxicated her pound harder. Goosebumps erupted along the bare skin of her thighs as cool air touched them, her skirts no longer providing her coverage.

“Oh,” she wined, her breath rushing in and out of her chest in shallow heaves.

“Are you warmed, Amelia? Shall I find your fruitful vine ripe with splendor?”

Her cheeks flamed, the vulgarity of Richard’s words drawing out something sinful and tantalizing within her. She should be so shocked by his words, by their actions, but the daring nature of their location and the lascivious air of Richard’s intoxicatingwhispers only heightened the pleasure already worming through her veins.

Even more, her husband did not wait for a response, winding his touch beneath her chemise until he ghosted the tips of his fingers across her seam. Indeed, she was heated to the core—an ingot glowing red and prepared for a blacksmith’s merciless pounding.

Amelia arched against his touch, and as her chest rose, Richard’s velvety lips found the top of her breast, his arm scooping under her back and holding her to his mouth. His teeth grabbed hold of the lace that trimmed her bodice, slowly prying away the offending fabric from her breast.

She wanted to cry out as his tongue slipped around her nipple, flicking it before his lips pulled it into his mouth. Still, she dared not make more than a desperate squeak, knowing that a call out would lead anyone nearby to their location. The restriction, the demand to remain quiet even as she felt entirely overwhelmed by sensations, made each touch that much more magical, more… pleasurable.

“Richard,” she whispered, “oh, God…”

He chuckled against her skin, the vibrations rumbling through the pert bud at the tip of her breast. It was lovely, the humming stimulating her nerve endings, and Richard’s touch slipped between her slick folds, pressing into that bundle of responsiveness just before her entrance.

“Such a naughty girl.” Her husband nipped at her nipple, pain flaring for a brief moment that ramped up the delight another notch. “I adore it, Amelia.”

She was already steadily approaching that realm of release, a building tingle blooming through her most intimate locales. Her mind spun as well, trying to piece together the reality that so amazed her. Amelia wanted Richard completely, to feel him sink himself deep within her, and yet, she was not sure if she wished for the current torture to end.

His delicious worship of her breast forced a low moan to bubble to the surface, and then her husband was slipping two of his long digits into her channel. He stroked in sublime rhythm, and Amelia’s head fell back as her eyes rolled up to the ceiling.

Amelia’s thighs clamped around Richard’s hand as he pumped in and out of her, and she clutched at his waistcoat like she might fall off the face of the earth. The deliberate ministrations had her scissoring her legs, that coiling need within her growing ever more blinding with each delectable swirl of Richard’s fingers.

And still, she wanted more.

“Please, Richard,” she whispered yet again, “I want to feel you.”

He teased her nipple, slipping his fingers from her core to rub briskly across the most sensitive part at the tip of her. Amelia bucked, her body overloaded with the sparking of her nerves.

“I must feel your body give in, sweet Amelia. I need to feel you release,” he licked across her breast, ramming his fingers home once more and attending to her bud with his thumb, “then you shall have what you so desire.”

Richard was soon to get his wish for Amelia’s entire body seized as the wonders throughout her drove the Duchess to the edge. Each area of assault beneath Richard’s talented appendages was on fire, reeling and wailing for that climax that hung overhead.

“Oh, God…I’m so near, Richard. I?—”

Her words were cut off as the barreling release claimed her. Amelia began to cry out, but Richard’s lips were quickly to her own, and he swallowed down her cries as the bliss flared brightly.

“That’s my sweet kitten,” Richard smirked above her as Amelia gazed up at him, her eyes lust-lidded and her being humming.

It was as if she were drunk, and Amelia dimply processed how Richard removed his fingers, leaving her skirts hiked up around her hips, and reached for his trousers.

God, can I handle much more?

The thought was swiftly answered, however, because the notion of at last feeling Richard within her—properly seated as her husband—bloomed in her mind, snuffing out all potential doubtor apprehension. She wanted this. She wanted this with her entire soul.

Leaning over her, Richard pressed his lips to her chest, dragging kisses across her skin as his hands busied themselves at his hips. Rustling fabric sounded quietly between them, and Amelia’s pulse fluttered quicker. She was indeed about to lose her virginity, and she silently marveled at the fact.

Amelia had long assumed she would die an old maid who’d managed to be married, remaining ever untouched because of her devotion to upholding her vows. She thanked God that it would not be so.

The kisses became a frenzy, and Richard’s tongue slipped between her lips, exploring her thoroughly. She moaned quietly against his mouth, and then his fierce grip was once more at her hips. Richard slid a hand beneath her thigh, angling her leg so that it might wrap around him and deliver her to him.

He leaned back, meeting her eyes in a hungry stare that also held motionless for a time. It was an unspoken question of continuation, and Amelia nodded before her eyes flicked down.

“Oh.”

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