Page 55 of His Abandoned Duchess

Amelia smiled, and the slow, unhurried exploration of her body was enough to have her foxed from the Duke’s touch alone. Richard freed Amelia of her remaining clothing and then stripped himself. Her core clenched down, a blissful beat of want pulsing through her veins as she admired Richard’s impressive set of muscles, a stark V-shape leading to his proud phallus.

He was wickedly built, the rigidly strung cords of her muscles tense across his chest as he towered over her. Faint curls dusted the skin of his chest, leading down in a disjoined line toward his hips. While Amelia knew that Richard was the first man she had seen naked, it was nonetheless an incredible sight to behold.

“Roll over.” Richard’s voice was a gruff slash through the air. “Please.”

Her heart raced a sporadic drumbeat behind her ribs. Amelia could scarcely contain the shock but flipped over onto her stomach regardless. She shoved herself up onto her hands and knees, wicked images of the courtesan women she’d heard of filling her thoughts. Richard’s hand came to the nape of her neck, squeezing lightly before he crawled his fingertips down her spine. Amelia arched against the contact, her hips lifting, and despite how she knew it left her open to appraisal.

“You sparkle, Amelia.”

Warmth bloomed, darkening the flesh of her cheeks as an odd beat reached from her ears to her very center, which pulsed sinfully. Her nerves frayed like a rope cut raggedly, an overabundance of sensation crowding out her thoughts until all that remained was the desperate need for him.

“Please, Richard.Please. Touch me.”

Without a word or sound, his lips graced the skin of Amelia’s lower back, working their way down to her intimate, unexplored curves. She recalled the way he’d feasted on her as if she were a meal, and the flaring arousal soared higher through her blood. The tiny pricks of sensation as his stubble brushed over her skin created goosebumps. They went skittering across her flesh as Richard ghosted his lips over her.

“Richard,” she whined.

A fire roared through Amelia’s blood at the teasing, delicate touches. They were too much and not enough, his hands gripping her as he toyed with her. Amelia loved the slight rasp of Richard’s facial hair. As the feeling mixed with the steady pulse between her thighs, she felt bound to him in an intoxicating arrangement. But she knew it could only last this night.

“Your fragrance is that of dessert, Amelia.” Richard slid his nose across her skin, inching his mouth closer to her exposed slit.

Richard’s skilled tongue explored the weeping folds, evidence of Amelia’s excitement and approval for all that he did. He smoothed it along the soft ridges, from the very top of herintimacy all the way to the small of her back. Amelia moaned in a guttural plea, pressing backward against the slippery sensation that rang in sinful glee in her mind. She wanted more, so much more.

“Richard,” she called as her husband appeared to read her thoughts, dancing back down between her legs and lapping up at her arousal as if she were the finest of wines.

Each sensation was magnified by the gentle, slow touches that set Amelia’s soul ablaze. She was aware of each and every one in excruciating detail. Her core pulsed in rhythmic cries for more as Richard devoured her. There was not a single inch of her most intimate flesh that was left untasted, unmarred by the searing pleasure of Richard’s tongue that would score her skin like a brand.

At once, Richard’s hands returned to her hips and the fullness of her rear, his thumbs smoothing over the outer folds of her delicate, now swollen channel. Richard spread Amelia wide, opening her up all the more for his greedy consumption, and a rush of wetness flooded her unbidden and with no shortage of surprise. Mortification claimed her for it all, but something more lay beneath it.

She adored every aspect of this delicious torture. All the parts of Amelia were at home in her existence under Richard’s touch—his to take and touch and consume. So untouched, so left to the solitude of her repetitive evenings, Amelia would miss the exquisite joy of being so adored as she was now, so claimed.

Richard found the tight bud of nerves at her tip, sucking it into his mouth with deliberate and forceful pulls of his lips. His teeth teased her, and when she was at least nearly crashing over that edge into the oblivion of release, her husband dragged his tongue across every sensitive section of her form in a maddening sequence. Circles danced around the front, then probing assaults into her entrance, and then still more that flew further into her secret reaches, exploring delectably naughty depths.

Looking over her shoulder, Amelia watched Richard sit back on his heels, his lips coated with her a glimmering sheen that pulled at her arousal.

“Bite that tongue of yours, Amelia. Your cries cannot be heard through the estate.”

A deep, desperate moan fled from her lips as she silently reeled. All she could do was nod her head, her heart and body swirling off into the stars in two different directions. Richard’s grin was pure lust—sinful and roguish. Amelia’s form melted into a puddle as her need swelled to new heights. This was the last, and what a glorious end they would make it.

Richard sheathed himself into Amelia in a single dominant, resolute thrust. He bottomed out inside her channel, and she was flung over the cliff of sensation in a moment, the heavens above appearing behind her closed lids. Richard’s rocking hips continued their brutal assault, claiming Amelia slowly but with a fervor that none could match.

He reached the depths of her passage with each indescribable strike forward, winding his hips in repetitive arcs so that the head of his erection stimulated Amelia’s voracious nerves to the point of blindness.

Not a handful of moments passed before Richard’s grip on her hips doubled down, and Amelia felt the thickness of his sword reach profound levels as he rushed into her harder, filling Amelia up to the point of bursting. She was a mess of overwhelming sensations, emotions too terrible and unyielding for her mind to process. Her walls clamped down around him as he reached so wonderfully deep that Amelia lost all track of where the Duke ended and she began.

Stilling for just only a single moment, Richard leaned forward, working himself into her as far as he could. It made Amelia yelp softly, her resolve to keep herself quiet incredibly challenged.

“I will fill you up, Amelia,” Richard growled low, a possessive and raw sound that entwined with his vicious thrusts to stretch me. “At this moment alone, I command everything that you are as I give you everything within me.”

Their pleasure flared as Richard’s words took hold of me, a lock and key that bound me in place for every impactful moment of his claim, and Amelia dropped down to her shoulders, angling her hips all the higher so that Richard might truly leave his mark on her even within her.

“Please,” she begged, the tears stinging in the corners of her eyes.

“Yes. Yes, Amelia.”

Richard thrust—hard. There were the profound motions of two more firm strokes, and at once, the Duke—the man that Amelia had fallen in love with against all odds—absolutely destroyed her with the severity of the climax. Her body came, tumbling into the ether in a shattering wave that demanded ownership of her very soul. Richard was not far behind. Roaring out into the room as if he were a beast, Richard’s shaft pulsed against her walls, a throb of his heartbeat that carved into her ribcage like letters into the trunk of a tree.

Incredible warmth overflowed within Amelia as he emptied himself into her clutching womb. They rushed to that edge together, the ecstatic motions of their bodies drawing out every fractured moment of breathtaking release.

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