Page 40 of The Virgin Duchess

“Seeing you at that first dinner, the one that Amelia had invited you to,” Frederick stepped closer to Charlotte, closing off the space between them all the more until he was practically plastered to her sumptuous body, “I had found you utter bewitching, darling. A sight I had to tear my eyes away from.”

Her brow sunk into a deep furrow, exasperation and delightful irritation making her countenance shift into that face of annoyance that Frederick found impossibly fetching.

“You said nothing. You made no move at all except to tease and condescend me. The only time you appeared remotely interested wasafterwe were already wed.”

Frederick couldn’t help but chuckle. “Does it now occur to you that might be because I was silencing it? If you haven’t noticed, I am quite the decent actor.”

Charlotte scoffed, swatting at him. He caught her arm by the wrist as she leveled it at his chest, and the two of them froze, pressed up against each other. She smelled divine—roses and sunshine. His wife’s stare was locked on his as tightly as a safe,and neither of them dared look away. Frederick could feel her flustered breaths rocking her chest.

“I am not angry with Rose for telling you. I am not angry with you for confronting me.” He focused on those deep brown eyes, allowing himself to fall into their depths. “And I will be honest with you from this point forward, Charlotte.”

The tension between them hung in the air like a knife poised to strike. Should it fall, Frederick was confident that the devasting blow would end him. Though it could be from rejection or acceptance, Frederick knew that whatever Charlotte said to him now, whatever moves they both made, nothing would be the same after tonight.

“I want that man dealt with because he’s harmed my sister. I wanted to marry you to keep that secret. And…”

She didn’t blink as she looked into his eyes. Charlotte barely moved. Her arm was still held in his grip, and he could feel the pulse of her blood rushing beneath her skin where his fingers wrapped around her skin. He could see the deepening pink that colored her cheeks, the way her lips gently parted as she flicked her eyes down to his mouth and then back up.

“…because the thought of making you mine made my blood boil hotter than the sun, an all-consuming need for you that I’d never felt for anyone previously.”

Eyes flaring, Charlotte’s hand relaxed in his hold, and he yanked her forward, crashing his lips down on hers. The moan that lefther was a dream in his system, his entire body flaring further to life from the exquisite feeling of her against him. Frederick ached to claim her, to know her every intimate curve.

But he also knew that she had not been ready.

After a beat, their tongues dancing together in an intricate dance of give and take—just like their time at the ball—Frederick leaned back, meeting her eyes intensely.

“Charlotte, I cannot keep myself from you, but…” He sucked in a shaky breath, his lips tingling from their caresses. “…I will do nothing you do not wish—as I have always asserted and will always continue to do.”

She swallowed once more, the action bobbing the delicate column of her throat. “I…I do not know if…I wish to feel you again. That was…but I am not?—”

“There is no need for further justification, sweet Charlotte.” He held her face with one hand, holding her close to him with the other. “I will give you all the pleasure I canwithouttaking it past your comfort.”

She relaxed against him, that thread of concern drifting away as he plied Charlotte with heated kisses up and down her neck. He was already roasting as if he were suspended above the fire in the hearth, and there was nothing more to remove than his trousers.

The thought made Frederick’s mind circle to thoughts he’d had time and again of revealing Charlotte’s glorious self to him. He’d seen her breasts, caressed and admired them, but Frederick was ravenous for the rest of her.

“Charlotte…” He drifted his kisses down the front of her chest to where the low neckline of her dress stopped him; though she wore a chemisette today, the vexing fabric blocking her from him. “…please, let me see you.”

“Frederick, I…” Charlotte arched against his lips, lighting her with sensation even through the thin fabric. “Yes. Please…help me get this off.”

In moments, they were a tangle of limbs and fabric, the layers peeling from Charlotte’s exquisite form until she was naked before him. Trepidation and, dare he say, embarrassment clung to her, Charlotte’s hands shielding her lower self from his hungry eyes. Kissing her, he walked his wife backward to the bed.

“God above, Charlotte. You are as perfect as Diana, as the stars themselves.” He worked his caresses down the front of her throat, nipping playfully before kissing the alabaster flesh of her bosom. “To taste you on my tongue is to taste ambrosia.”

She whimpered, her hands tangling in his hair as he slipped down her body, careful to pay possessive attention to each inch of her skin. Charlotte arched as Frederick reached the underside of her breast, sucking on the supple curve, then dancing his tongue across it in a long sweep.

“Frederick!” Charlotte’s leg was suddenly wrapped around him, and the feeling of her thing sliding against his hip had him throbbing with need. “Please, I cannot stand it. The…desire is ungodly strong.”

“You have no idea, precious Charlotte,” he mumbled against her skin, sinking lower and lower down her form until his kisses reached the crease of her hip. “Shall I tend to you, wife? Shall I show you yet another of the myriads of ways I can bring your body to new height?”

“Yes,please…”

The ways of pleasuring a woman were not lost on him, but Frederick had to admit that it had been some time since he was in a position to do so. His heart thundered against his ribs as he approached the hidden gem between Charlotte’s legs. He’d felt her climax around his fingers, and he was desperate to feel it again—on his tongue.

Charlotte bucked against him as he reached her, slipping his tongue through her seam and gathering her taste. It was magnificent, so purely hers. Frederick could spend hours tending to her like this, feeling her grip his locks, her legs squeezing around him as her hips shifted up and down—her body needed more of the sensations.

And he was all too happy to deliver them.

“Frederick, that’s…oh, God…how is it possible? The way you make me feel…”

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