Page 64 of Married to a Wicked Duke
“Very different.”
“Why, exactly?”
She shrugged. “Because I said so.” She tried to dart past him again. This time, before Frederick could catch her, she latched her hand around the paintbrush that was poking out from behind his easel. And before she could even think about what she was doing, she had painted a wide blue stripe across the front of his shirt.
Frederick looked down at the paint, then back at her, his lips parted and his eyebrows raised. “You didnotjust do that.”
Veronica began to giggle. She had managed to paint right across the open neck of his white shirt, leaving a wild blue streak across his chest.
Frederick wrestled the paintbrush from her hand. He dipped it back in the pallet, then ran it across Veronica’s cheek.
“Frederick!” she gasped. “What are you doing?!”
He grinned, his gray eyes glittering. “Perhaps you ought to have thought of that before you started this little game.” He painted another long streak down her neck.
Veronica tried to grab the paintbrush, but Frederick lifted it above his head to prevent her from reaching it. Impulsively, she lurched towards the pallet and smeared her hand across it, before planting her palm squarely against Frederick’s cheek.
“Oh… You…” He began to laugh. “You are going to pay for that.”
Veronica stood on her tiptoes so her nose grazed his. She giggled at the sight of the colorful swirl down the side of his jaw. “Make me.”
Frederick wrapped a firm arm around her waist to prevent her from escaping, then used his free hand to scoop up messy fingerfuls of paint from the palette. He ran his hand down Veronica’s neck, pausing at the top of her nightgown. In one movement, he pulled the offending item of clothing over her head, and continued to drag his hand down her body, leaving colorful smears of paint over her breasts, her stomach, all the way down her legs.
“Frederick,” she gasped.
He stood close to her, grinning against her lips. “I warned you,” he said, light in his voice. “But you didn’t listen.”
Veronica reached for his shirt and tugged it over his head. She pushed her body close to his, transferring some of the paint from her bare chest to his. With one hand, Frederick reached down to unbutton his breeches, then he pushed them down and kicked them aside.
With her paint-covered hand, Veronica reached down to touch his stiff manhood, drawing a groan from his lips that she felt deep inside her. She took a step backwards towards his easel, drawing him along with her, until he grabbed her hand and began to laugh.
“Are youstilltrying to see my painting?” he demanded.
Veronica shrugged. “Perhaps.”
He laughed long and low, the sound bringing her as much joy as the sound of his pleasure had. “Youare trouble.” He kissed her hard. “No one suspects it because you are so quiet and sweet and unassuming. But I know the truth,” he teased. Then kissed her again. “I know who you really are.”
And I know who you really are. You are not the cold and unfeeling man you pretend to be. You are warm and loving and you allow your wife to cover you in paint…
Frederick kissed her hard, wrapping his hands around her thighs and lifting her into his arms. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her body aching for his. He planted her on the table in the corner of the room and pushed her thighs apart. He dropped to his knees in front of her and began lashing her with his tongue. Veronica gripped the edges of the table and tossed her head back, unable to hold back a loud moan. Every inch of her body felt alight, blazing, in the most pleasurable and dizzying way. With Frederick’s tongue moving against her—slow then fast, then achingly slow again—she could feel her climax careening up at a rapid speed. Her breathing grew ragged, and her cries of pleasure grew louder, unrestrained.
Moments before her climax hit, Frederick stood up.
“No,” Veronica gasped. “No, please. Don’t stop.” He grinned, pulling her into a kiss. Veronica could taste herself on his tongue, and it only intensified her need for him.
“I think you deserve to wait a little longer,” Frederick said against her lips. “After the way you have behaved today.” He pulled her off the table and turned her around so her back was to him. Gently, he nudged her forward, so her paint-covered palms were planted against the table. Veronica could feel his member nudging against her opening from behind and she felt her hips bucking backwards, craving more of him. With a firm thrust, Frederick plunged inside her, making Veronica cry out in a burst of intensely pleasurable pain.
“I warned you,” he grunted, as he began to move in and out. “I told you it was rude to try and spy on another artist’s work.”
Veronica gasped down her breath. “If this is my punishment…” she let out a low moan, “I shall be sure to do it again.”
Frederick chuckled and thrust into her harder, one hand reaching around her body to cup her breast. He pinched her peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and she gasped loudly.
The pleasure this time was deeper and more intense than she had ever experienced; seemed to come from somewhere utterly unplaceable. Veronica felt it engulfing every inch of her body. She closed her eyes as her climax erupted, making stars dance behind her eyes. She was dimly aware of Frederick’s arm wrapped around her. Dimly aware of his own loud groans as her climax triggered his. And she was dimly aware of the deep, consuming kiss he pulled her into as her breathing began to slow.
Frederick pulled out of her and turned her back to face him. He lifted her onto the table and pulled her body close to his. Veronica opened her eyes and rested her forehead against his. His face and body were streaked in red, blues and greens, and she could see the fingerprints on his shoulder where she had clung to him so desperately. One glance down at her own body told her Frederick had left her in a similar state. Fresh giggles began to well up inside her.
Frederick’s chest began to rise and fall with soft laughter. “Well,” he said, “I never thought of doingthatwith this particular color palette.”
