Page 52 of The Virgin Duchess

“Again.” She licked her lips, meeting his eyes hungrily. “I want it again.”

Chuckling, Frederick shook his head gently, leaning further back. “I’m not sure if you want?—”

“I know precisely what I want.” She pulled him up her body, crashing her lips against his as she reached for the erection that strained behind his trousers. “I want it again, and I want to do the same for you.”

Frederick groaned as she palmed him through the fabric. Right where she knew his tip to be, the fall of his underpants wasslightly moist. Charlotte had tasted him before, and the need for more lit up in her veins.

“Anything for you, darling.” Frederick grinned down at her as he slipped to the side and knelt near her head. “If it istrulywhat you want.”

She smiled back. “It is.Truly.”

Positioning became a matter of a dance, Frederick and her finding ways to both claim one another as their limbs and angles would allow. They wound up side-lying, her sweet husband able to deliver the pleasure she demanded to herself while she was able to simultaneously provide care to him, reveling in the joy that was making him ground as she took him in her mouth.

It was such a delight to make Frederick’s nerves sing. There was something about being able to make him live in the same space of lust and ecstasy that he gave her that fueled Charlotte and made her so incredibly proud and joyful.

She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but whatever magic existed within her when she pleasured Frederick, it only grew exponentially when he was working her slit so profoundly. His slick tongue worshipped her, finding all those oversensitive nerves, the swollen flesh, and bringing it right back to the heights of arousal in mere moments.

Charlotte rocked her head in time with Frederick’s plying strokes, matching his rhythm. His hips began to mimic the dance as well, threading him in and out of her lips like aseamstress's skilled needle. In and out, pressing in to remain there for a moment while a deep, rumbling moan eked out of him and then back so that she might be able to breathe.

Frederick was far from a small man. She’d been thoroughly taken aback when she’d first seen him, and as it was now, Charlotte was growing her knowledge of how to take him. She needed to relax her jaw, allowing him to do a fair portion of the work. Her hands were a necessity as well, allowing her to grip him firmly around the shaft and continue pleasing him while she rested her jaw.

Tension ratcheted up through her spine as Frederick’s devious tongue wound her right up to the edge. Her thighs began to tremble once more, and then he slipped back just enough to blow across her overheated flesh.

“Frederick! Oh, God,” The last of her words was a desperate mumble as he found her once more, and she reflexively squeezed down on his erection, gripping him so very tight.

“That’s it, love. Let me feel you find that release. Ugh.” He groaned, and Charlotte cast a glance downward to catch a glimpse of his face, all screwed up tight from the sensations she was delivering. “Yes, dearest. Oh, that’s…verygood.”

Charlotte didn’t let up, squeezing tightly as she wrapped her lips around the head of his erection and sucked. The taste of him bloomed over her tongue as the precursor to his finish dripped more and more from him. Everything tingled, and he found her sensitive bud as his fingers swirled inside her once more.

Time was a blur of hungry revelry from both of them until, at once, Charlotte careened over the edge, her body seizing up as she climaxed against Frederick’s insistent tongue. It was apparently quite the ticket for Frederick as well, his length surging in her mouth as he pulsed and emptied himself across her tongue.

What wildness is this? How am I this woman? And how is it that I never want to go back again?

Frederick’s aim had been to take away her stress. It had been what she wanted and what he was so very ready to give her. And he could rest thoroughly assured that he had done just that.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The sullen demeanor of Charlotte upon her return from visiting Cordelia and Kitty had plagued Frederick from the moment he laid on her that night. And despite having “entertained” her another way to take her mind off things, he could still tell that she was unhappy. Or, at the least, not as happy as she had been.

It was clear to him that she still had so much on her mind, and Frederick was possessed with the need to do something about it, which—if he were honest with himself—upset him more than he thought it might.

In fact, so much has affected me more than I believed it would. Being around Charlotte…has changed things. And I’m not sure what to make of that.

They had spent quite a bit of time together at this point, and as funny as it seemed, he was just now asking her to join him for their fifth night together. Even more odd, Frederick didn’t carein the slightest what the outcome of these nights might be. He’d set out with such a purpose, this clear notion in his mind that he would indeed woo his reluctant bride and claim her at the last.

While the tales of his rakish nature were a horrendous exaggeration, it appeared that when it came to Charlotte, he was indeed trying to win his way into her bed.

At least he had been.

As he studied himself in the mirror, straightening the length of fabric that wound around to create his cravat, Frederick shook his head. He couldn’t think of “bedding” Charlotte like that. He wasn’t sure if he ever indeed had. She was a challenge to him, yes. Someone who stood up to him and made him consider his words and actions in every way, but she was never just a prize to be won.

Charlotte was…remarkable, and so long as he could stand in the warm light that she gave off, he would remain steady and strong, growing in the glow of her presence.

“You terrible old romantic.” He chuckled to himself. “Whathasgotten into me?”

But there was no use denying it. Tonight was proof of just that. Frederick swept his hands down the front of his waistcoat and then proceeded to his small armchair in his room, where his coat hung. The air would be brisk, but the lovely spring day had promised the perfect evening to take a walk with his Charlotte.

My Charlotte. All Frederick could do was laugh at himself again.

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