Page 65 of A Wounded Duke's Passion
Bridget pressed her thighs against him, silently urging him to touch her core, the source of such wondrous and strange sensations. Anthony’s hand caressed the inside of her thigh, and Bridget gasped.
He pressed a kiss at the hollow of her throat and another at her jaw. “Tell me if you wish for me to stop,” he murmured.
“Do not stop,” she said, her breath coming raggedly.
Heat rose to her face, and Bridget’s stays felt suddenly too constricting. Anthony traced a hand further up her thigh, and she clung to him. His fingers brushed through the delicate curls at the entrance of her maidenhood, and Bridget shivered. The ache between her legs worsened, and muscles that she had no name for pulsed inside her.
“Please,” she murmured, unsure what she was even asking him to do. “Please, Anthony.”
“Patience,” he murmured.
She bucked her hips against him as his hand moved lower. He rubbed his thumb at her entrance, and a jolt of pleasure surged through her. Bridget gasped again, and Anthony chuckled.
She brought her hands down, curling her fingers into the fine material of his jacket. He slowly inserted a finger into her entrance, and Bridget gasped once more. Her inner muscles clenched around him as he pumped his finger in and out. She felt damp and hot, and the ache intensified. Her thighs quivered, and the muscles in her stomach became taut. Bridget groaned, pushing against his hand and silently urging him to move his fingers harder and faster.
She moaned and bucked and twisted against his hand, and he dipped his head, trailing kisses along her neck and jaw. The top of Anthony’s head brushed against her chin, as hepressed kisses to the tops of her breasts. “Oh!” Bridget cried. “Anthony!”
Her body seemed to react on its own, pulsing and bucking and twitching, and everything inside her pulled tight. When she thought she could bear it no longer, all the tightness suddenly uncoiled. She sighed as a wave of bliss overcame her. It shattered her to pieces, and she became lost in the unfamiliar sensation. White spots obscured her vision, and she blinked quickly, trying to clear them. Her breath came in uneven shudders.
“Did you enjoy that?” he asked.
“Yes,” she breathed. “So much.”
He chuckled and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Then Anthony withdrew his hand and roughly adjusted her petticoats and skirts, trying to return them to some order. Bridget loosened her grip on his jacket and carefully straightened her bodice, which had been pulled lower during their shared moment of passion.
“Is that how it feels when a man inserts himself?” Her voice sounded strange to her, as if she were speaking from very far away.
“Sometimes,” Anthony replied, “if the man knows what he is doing.”
“You seem to know that.”
He grinned. “I do.”
Bridget felt the faintest flicker of doubt, for the warning from Lady Hastings still rang inside her mind. For Anthony to be so good at pleasuring women, he must have done so before. Of course, she could not expect that a man would have only ever shown affection for one woman in his life. Now, he was with her, and he desired her. The past did not matter—only the future.
She gazed at his flushed face and his shining eyes. His hair was a mess from her fingers curling in it. “Your hair,” she rasped.
Anthony raked his hands through his hair, forcing it flat again. “Thank you.”
Bridget’s breath had finally slowed. She adjusted her gown, smoothing the rumpled fabric over her legs.
“We should return to the recital,” Anthony said, sounding reluctant. “Otherwise, our absence will surely be noticed.”
“You are right,” Bridget said. “We should not return together, or people will talk.”
“Indeed. You should return first. Lady Rose will be expecting you.”
Bridget carefully smoothed her own hair. “You are right,” she said, letting out a small laugh. “I will return first.”
“Great.”
The air between them seemed charged with something new and alive. Bridget smiled. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay and enjoy this newfound feeling that was growing between them, and she wanted to kiss Anthony again and move his hand back to her core.
Slowly, the exhilaration of the moment dulled. Lady Hastings’s warning rang louder than ever. According to her story, Anthony had seduced a young lady and abandoned her. Now, Bridget had let him do precisely that. She trusted him, though.
“I will see you soon,” she said.
“Yes.”
