Page 96 of Wedded to the Ruthless Duke

Out here, in the elements, with the wind brushing their skin, she thought they were safe. She could scream his name aloud and prayed the staff tucked away in the houses wouldn’t hear her. It was invigorating, just how free she felt making love to Philip outside.

He kept rocking their hips together. There was nothing gentle about his movements. It was firm and fast so that he hit every pleasurable spot inside of her as he moved.

She raised her legs as high as she possibly could, giving him complete access to her, then he took hold of her hands, placing them over her head and pinning them there in one of his.

To feel so dominated by him was such a thrill that her moans grew louder again. She could no longer form his name, and only managed sounds as her body was rocked with such pleasure.

“Mine,” Philip started to whisper in her ear. “God, I love you, Grace. I cannot imagine you married to any other man.”

The words alone were enough to heighten her pleasure. She threw her head back, feeling how strong he was as he shifted their position. He tucked his arms under her legs and lifted them higher, so he was practically bending her in half as he entered her, maintaining the connection of their gazes the whole time.

To be so penetrated by him yet at the same time, hear such words, created such a pleasure that she had never felt before.

Her end was coming fast. She could feel it rippling through her, overtaking her so strongly that her hands couldn’t stay still. As he had released his grip on her wrists, she let her fingers explore across his shoulders, down his torso, to his strong stomach, then she let them fall back to the picnic blanket as well, creasing it beneath her fingers.

She had no idea her body was capable of feeling such pleasure. That final moment hit her like a great wave from the ocean. She was taken over that edge and into a complete oblivion of pleasure.

“Philip,” she moaned his name as he entered her again and again, never once hesitating or slowing his pace.

She was still moaning, her body sensitive and struggling to come down from that height when she noticed his own sounds changing. He was no longer just breathing heavily but moaning himself, short growling sounds which were possessive and full of pleasure.

Then he thrust into her one more time. He craned his head back as he did so, one final guttural sound escaping him. The sight of him in all that lantern light, the sweat on his chest beading like drips of gold, Grace was sure she would never forget.

She reached her hands up toward him, pulling him back down to her. Panting, he collapsed over the top of her, bearing his weight on one forearm as their lips collided in a heated kiss.

“God, I love you, Grace,” he managed to murmur between his kisses. “Always so afraid of this feeling, so scared of it.”

“Why?” she said, kissing him back. “Why be scared of love, Philip?”

“I never wanted to hurt you.” He raised himself just enough to look into her eyes. “Never.”

She felt the irony of the statement. In an effort not to hurt her, he had ended up causing them both pain, but that was over now.

“No more being afraid?” she pleaded, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him back down toward her.

“No more,” he promised.

“Good. Because if all of our picnics are going to be like this one, I think it might be a very happy marriage indeed.”

He chuckled lightly, the vibrations emanating through their connection as he bent toward her, ready for another of their heated kisses. One of his hands trailed his fingers through her hair, pulling at it until it had fallen out of its updo. Clearly, he had no intention of their picnic ending just yet.

“You took the words right out of my mouth, My Duchess.”

The End?