Page 31 of His Abandoned Duchess

Flaring their widest, Amelia’s eyes took in the unsubtle form of her husband bared to her, her brows reaching her hairline. She’d never seen a man like this before, and her body thrummed in response, eager and wanting.

Richard chuckled softly, his lips returning to her breast as he warmed her all the more. Internally, her mind whirled. Her husband was a thick, proud man, and it bewildered her that he might genuinely fit within her. The long shaft was gently curved up toward Richard’s navel, and the round, blunt head was an intriguing swollen nob.

Amelia hung in excited curiosity at what he would feel like, the impressive length filling her completely. Her seam was slick, the moisture on her thighs, and she could feel her pulse pound all the hard within her chest, her neck, and even her commodity.

“You flatter me, dear,” Richard mumbled against her chest. “And t’would be best if the entire estate did not hear you.”

He traveled his kisses to the side of her neck, his head brushing against her seam, making Amelia arch up into him as her body naturally sought out more of him. In a flash, Richard’s hand was over her mouth, his fingers wrapping around her face as he muffled her.

Before she could think to speak up, Richard rocked his hips forward, pressing himself between her folds. Amelia groaned, the stretch of accommodating him a singeing wonder.

“Ugh!” she called out, but Richard’s palm did its work, keeping the sound from drawing attention.

It was so much, Amelia’s body ringing with tension. How could she possibly take him? Was this to be the whole of the experience? She could not take it.

But he began to roll his hips in a steady rhythm, the motions easing him in and out of her in a way that mimicked the sensation of his fingers but so much more profoundly. With every methodical pump, Amelia’s body gave more of herself to her husband, the pleasure roiling once more and making her drip for him.

“That’s it, dearest.” Richard gripped her hip, anchoring himself as he made love to her. “You’re doing soverywell.”

It was surely heaven on earth, the sensations beyond any she’d dreamed of. Amelia began the dance with him, losing herself to the feeling of Richard’s length driving in and out of her. Their pace quickened, and once more, she rushed toward the edge of release.

Amelia clung onto Richard’s arm and neck as he lavished her collarbone and breast with his lips. Being a fair amount taller than her, he was able to swirl his tongue around her breast while he remained sheathed inside her, the thickness he possessed filling every inch of her channel.

He thrust into her, picking up momentum as he drove himself forward. Richard was flush to her, reaching the brink within her so that it found something oversensitive that made Amelia yelp. The fullness, the stretch, was mindboggling. Amelia could almostfeelher thoughts scrambling, unable to keep up with the new, incredible sensations.

“Ugh, Amelia,” Richard’s voice was deep and sinful, utterly consumed by their encounter, “you are incomparable. I should like to stay locked within you for eternity.”

The praising words lit her up, sunlight shining from within her veins as Richard continued to pummel her with his impressive erection. It was a marvel that she could withstand him, but her body melted around Richard like it was destined to be his—and his alone.

“Richard, I…Oh God…do not stop. Do not ever stop.”

His pace quickened once more, and Richard dropped his head to her shoulder. The soft grunts he released made the passion swell all the higher inside her, and Amelia wrapped her arm around him, gripping Richard’s hair at the back of his head.

Something changed so utterly within her. Amelia was gone to anything but the feeling of Richard claiming her. He stretched her walls, demanding so much from her body. He barreled into her, obliterating her maidenhead. The need to cry out was so unbelievably intense, but Amelia forced herself quiet, biting into her lip.

Daring to open her eyes, Amelia wondered up at the canopy of green that cloaked their presence in the conservatory. The darkness of night surrounded the glass space, the sun having set during their time here. It was a sphere of shrouding shadow that stole them both away from the world beyond, allowing them this moment of connection as just the two of them.

There were no responsibilities here, no worries, no squabbles or plots at work, and no nagging thoughts of duty or propriety. It was only the two of them—Amelia and Richard, her husband.

Clinging to him still, Amelia shifted her hips, allowing Richard to sink even deeper. She whimpered, the sound all she would permit herself to make, and Richard lifted his head from her shoulder. As their eyes met, it was as if he drank her in, gulping down the look of her like nectar.

Richard shifted up onto his knees as he gripped Amelia’s hips and brought her with him. Seating her, he thrust up as she straddled him, and Amelia’s head fell back as Richard was impossibly plunged further into her. It was bliss, their joining so profound, and he speared upward as she rode him, squeezing her thighs around him.

He was her stallion, and Amelia mounted her husband, the furious pace of his gallop taking her to uncharted places of carnality. Gripping around her face and hair, Richard crashed his lips into hers once more as she bounced up and down along his exquisite length.

Exertion swam through her, her leg muscles burning, but she cared not a wink. Amelia was on the brink of climax, the thundering burn in the swollen, sensitive bud at her front aching to tumble down into another release.

At once, Richard felt all the more steel within her, his shaft driving into her with such force as he flexed his hips. The hedonism of their spontaneous encounter reached its crescendo,and Amelia could just make out the sense of Richard’s pulse through his sword. It thrummed until she was careening over the cliff, her vision tunneling and sparking with light as she climaxed.

Warmth surged inside her as Richard’s seed filled her channel to overflowing. They had ridden the tsunami of indulgence together. As their breaths heaved in their chests, their brows dotted with sweat, Richard and Amelia coasted down into a place of posthumous serenity.

For it was secretly called le petit mort by the French, and Amelia at once understood why. Whatever version of her that had existed prior to this late afternoon had surely died, replaced by the changed woman she was now.

Chapter Fourteen

The curricle hurried along the Town streets, and Richard watched idly as the bricks and steeples of buildings and roads passed him by. The tiger was set to take him to one of his old favorite gentleman’s clubs, and the warm spring air was refreshing.

It was fair enough weather to ride in the open air, and it cooled the still overly heated skin of Richard’s face. He’d been distracted for the entirety of the late evening and early morning that followed, and it still clung to him now that he could not shake the thoughts that haunted him.

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