Page 51 of The Virgin Duchess

With her skirts no longer standing in his way, Frederick got down on his knees at the foot of the bed, yanking Charlotte by the hips so that her rear was perched on the edge. Kisses dotted the inside of her thigh, and Frederick eased her legs farther apart.

“Oh, God.” She slipped backward, falling onto the bed where her pointer finger immediately went to her teeth so that she might have something to bite.

She was still fully clothed, and there was something about the fact that she was, that Frederick remained buttoned up with even his jacket still in place over his waistcoat, that took the already powerful lust swirling inside her and ramped it up to the rafters. Frederick knelt on the ground in his fine trousers, and he was about to feast on her like she was the most exquisite indulgence.

Charlotte’s nerves tingled as her husband worked his kisses higher and higher. The pads of his fingers dug into her thighs, keeping her open even as she couldn’t help but try and close them. She chewed on her knuckle, burying her moans in her skin so they didn’t ring through the house.

“Keep these open, darling.” Frederick glanced at her quickly before gazing down between her legs. “I’ll be needing my fingers.”

Her blood whooshed through her veins, and Charlotte was all too aware of each sensation blooming through her—the ache in her finger from how she clamped her teeth down on it, the hum in her veins, the tension in her womb, the hum in the bud of her slick seam.

“Please,” she whined, “please, Frederick. You cannot keep me on edge like this.”

He chuckled. “Of course not, darling. I aim only to please you, to allow you to lose yourself to the pleasure.”

Without another word, Frederick slid his tongue up through her folds. Charlotte bucked against his mouth, and he pressed her thighs back down to the bed as he began to roam her slippery center with his caresses.

The need for release was nearly immediate, a growing wave in Charlotte’s entire being that cried out for that cliff so that she might leap from it. Frederick’s grip was fierce on her legs, and the pinch was exquisite, adding to the ecstasy. When she forced herself to keep her legs spread, curious how Frederick might use his hands, he paused for just a moment to grin up at her.

“That’s my girl.”

It was a challenge of her strength to keep herself there, though. Frederick’s plying touches pulled so much intense pleasure from her body that it was almost too much to withstand. And still, Charlotte craved more. When she thought he might have forgotten about his words, Frederick’s fingers walked up the inside of her thigh until they hit the soft skin that had been untouched before him.

“If you don’t want a maid running in here with concern,” Frederick murmured against her flesh, “I’d bite that knuckle hard.”

She did as told, and then one long digit slid inside her. Charlotte whimpered, her fraught moans only just stifled by how shechewed on her finger. Frederick sunk deeper inside her, swirling his finger until Charlotte thought she might go mad.

And then another pressed into her. She was stretched around his fingers, the sensation of fullness adding to the stimulation of her nerves. It was incredible, and she began to understand all the more why making love to someone might be spoken of so highly, so desired that there were those who sold their services to deliver it.

Frederick pumped his fingers in and out of her in a divine rhythm. All the while, he licked and sucked on that oversensitive bud at her tip. The dual efforts were perfectly paired, one fueling the other. Charlotte struggled to keep her legs open, and when Frederick rotated his hand and found the downright magical spot at the top of her walls, she finally faltered.

Her legs closed around Frederick’s head, but he didn’t stop. Charlotte’s hand flew to his hair, and she gripped it tight. Unable to hold back, she rocked against his mouth, searching out that climax that loomed right around the corner.

“Frederick,” Charlotte arched up off the bed as he added a third finger, “oh God, oh God, oh God. It’s so much.”

Tears prickled at her eyes, and she felt her husband begin to back off. Shooting up on her elbows again, Charlotte glared down at Frederick.

“Don’t you dare.” She squeezed the locks of his hair. “Don’t stop.”

“As you wish, precious.”

Laying back down, Charlotte closed her eyes, focusing on the feelings swelling within her. Sweat beaded at the back of her neck, and she knew it gathered beneath her dress as well. She was this wanton thing, so desperate for more, and it still excited her that Frederick was tasting her center with her skirts merely shoved up out of the way.

Reality blurred at that point. Everything became the feelings, the work done to her body by this incredible man. Charlotte couldn’t hold back the moans, and this wild part of her didn’t care. They were married, and if the staff heard her, they would know not to interrupt.

Emotions swirled together with the hedonistic joy. She was so grateful to Frederick for this, for the way he spoke with her about Selina. He cared enough to lend his advice. He cared enough to give her this pleasure, freeing her mind from the terrible weight of guilt and sorrow.

Perhaps…perhaps she was falling in love with him.

A crack of lightning speared through Charlotte as Frederick hooked his three fingers into her upper walls. He sucked on that little button simultaneously, and she was going to lose it. She was going to fall apart for him right now.

“Frederick. Ugh! I…Oh, God. It’s right?—”

Her words were cut off as the scale finally tipped. Pleasure swam through her as she soared over the rockface of crescendoing sensations into the vast open sky of completion. She clenched her thighs around him, her channel clamping down around his fingers as she pulsed against his mouth. Her release pounded through her stronger than a freight train, leaving her a breathless, slippery mess.

Everything paused, and then she felt Frederick slip free of her. The emptiness was horrid, and she whimpered at the loss of him. Craning sideways to look down at him, Charlotte saw the most beautiful, glistening grin plastered across Frederick’s face, and she smiled back.

“You’re so beautiful, darling.” His voice was soft, almost reverent.

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