Page 31 of The Duke’s Second Bride (Regency Second Chances #4)

“ C ome with me, wife,” Ava barely had a moment as he took her hand in his.

When they reached the estate, they barely greeted the staff and just barely made it into Christian’s chambers before slamming the door behind them.

He pressed her up against the door, lifting her once again, but this time she had no fear that anyone could walk in on them. They had complete privacy now.

Ava felt the fires of lust churning within her in a way she had never experienced before. Certainly, she had never experienced it with William.

And even with Christian, her desire had always been tempered, however minorly, by her utter conviction that he did not, could not, would not ever want her back.

Now that she knew otherwise, it was as though her desire had been released from imprisonment.

He kissed her and kissed her and kissed her, and she met his every kiss with equal passion, clinging to him the way he clung to her. His moans were low, rumbling, and vibrating through his body to hers.

The feeling of his body pressed to hers, even through fabric, was a wicked delight she could not believe was real.

When he pulled away, she bit back a whine, which only faded when it became clear his hands were moving to undo her dress.

“I love to hear you whimper for me,” he rasped.

She moved to help him, and together the two of them were able to make quick work of her gown. It pooled around her feet like liquid gold in the candlelight, leaving her only in her underthings.

He spun her around gently to get at the laces of her stays. She let out a sigh of relief once they were off. That done, he picked her up, as easily as if she had weighed no more than a feather.

He carried her towards the bed, depositing her on it gently, before crawling up to hover over her. He pressed his mouth against hers in a bruising, intense kiss.

One of his hands traced up her thigh. She gasped as his hand reached the apex of her thighs.

Having been married once prior, Ava was no blushing virgin. But William had been brusque and selfish in the bedroom. He never seemed to give much thought to her desire. He barely looked at her.

Christian, on the other hand, seemed unable and unwilling to tear his eyes from her. As his hand dipped beneath her shift, stroking against her center, he seemed to drink in every shift in her expression, no matter how minute her reaction was.

“Is this all right?” he asked lowly.

Ava nodded. He pressed forward further.

“I have wanted this for so long,” he said.

He found a particularly sensitive spot and began rubbing in small circles. Ava gasped, her hips shifting without her meaning to.

“As have I,” she confessed.

Christian kissed her again, even more deeply than before. He then pulled away to kneel between her legs. He pushed up the bottom of her shift, revealing all of her to his gaze.

All her previous shyness had vanished. Ava could not imagine feeling even the slightest bit embarrassed in front of his heated, hungry eyes.

He pressed kisses to each of her ankles, then to her calf, working his way up her legs. When he reached the top, he kissed the crease where her thigh met her hip.

“What are you doing?” Ava asked.

He looked at her, brow slightly furrowed, though whether it was from confusion or merely desire was difficult to tell.

“Your last husband never touched you here?”

“N-no. Not the way you are now,” she admitted.

A devilishly handsome grin appeared across his face. He shook his head with a chuckle of his own.

“What a waste,” he said.

Before she could ask him what he meant by that, he bent back down and licked a hot, wet streak up her center.

Ava gasped, letting her torso and head fall back against the pillows. It was such an unexpected action, but her surprise was instantly outweighed by the sheer strength of pleasure it brought her.

He continued to torment her with further licks and kisses, eliciting pleasure from her that she had previously not thought possible.

“Oh … Christian,” she sighed.

He seemed pleased to hear his name, if his answering moan was any indication. The sound was low, nearly a growl, and it reverberated through her where his mouth was pressed to her most secret and sensitive parts.

He was incredibly attentive to each of her responses. Whenever she let out a whimper or a moan, he repeated the action that had elicited it until she was practically arching off the bed in pleasure.

The heat and pleasure mounted, accompanied by a tightening sensation in her lower abdomen. Her hips bucked upwards of their own accord. Christian seemed to sense she was nearing the edge of some precipice, and redoubled his efforts.

Finally, the sensations converged into one moment of pleasure so intense that it was akin to a kind of pain. The tension in her abdomen snapped like a whip, and waves of contractions rippled through her body, accompanied by a symphony of moans.

Christian barely gave her a moment’s reprieve from the overwhelming pleasure. As she continued to writhe beneath him, she nearly pulled away, so oversensitive was she after that phenomenal release. His hands tightened around her hips, holding her in place.

He continued to lick her through the last aftershocks, until she was once again clutching at his hair and pulling him closer into her.

“You taste … incredible,” he murmured, turning to kiss her thigh once more. “And the sounds you make … I will draw them from you, over and over, and I will worship you through every one.”

She exhaled, brushing back a stray curl from where sweat had stuck it to her forehead.

“I … That was …” she breathed.

He added a finger back, stroking gently at her entrance, now wet with the combination of her arousal and his mouth. When he pressed that finger into her aching core, she nearly arched off the bed.

“What?” he said, “You thought I was done with you? No, tonight, it’s all about you, wife.”

“What?” She sat up slightly to look down at him. His eyes gleamed intensely in the candlelight of his room, and his arm still between her thighs. “But you just— oh .”

He added another finger, and she allowed herself to fall back onto the pillows once more, giving in to the sea of ecstasy that was beginning to churn within her once more.

Ava woke up in an unfamiliar bed.

Christian’s, she realized after a moment. The sun streamed through the window.

A storm of emotions hit her in quick succession—first the sharp pang of recognition as she realized where she was, then a rush of heat at the memory of last night, only to be cut short by the hollow swell of disappointment when she saw the bed was empty.

She turned, and her gaze fell on a folded piece of paper resting neatly on the nightstand. Curiosity prickling her skin, she picked it up and carefully unfolded it, wondering what secrets it might hold.

Ava,

You looked so beautiful and peaceful sleeping. I could not bear to wake you.

I am off to meet with a business partner, but I will be back by the early afternoon.

She couldn’t help but smile at the note. Just like that, all her fears of abandonment were soothed.

He didn’t regret kissing her, she knew. He didn’t regret any of it. He wanted her as badly as she had wanted him. It was almost too wonderful to believe.

Having slept in late, Ava had just finished bathing, dressing, and taking a late breakfast when the housekeeper showed Edith into the room.

“Ava!” her friend exclaimed. “I was worried sick! You went for lemonade, and then the next thing I knew, you were gone from the ball entirely. Are you all right? You look all right.”

Ava felt a warm flush spread across her cheeks, accompanied by an uncontrollable smile.

“Yes,” she said. “I am quite all right. Come, sit, if you’d like. I’ll have more tea sent.”

Edith sat next to her, observing her expression. A knowing smile spread across her face.

“You look more than quite all right, if I do say so myself,” she said, her glee evident in her voice. “Am I to understand that relations have … improved between you and your husband?”

Ava’s smile turned into a full-fledged grin, and she couldn’t help a giggle from escaping her. “Well …”

Edith smacked her arm, the way she had in their younger days, and let out a delighted laugh of her own. “Ava! You absolutely must tell me everything .”

When Christian arrived back at the house, he was not displeased to find Lady Edith Nealton sitting in the parlor room and chatting with Ava. They both stood upon seeing him.

“Lady Nealton,” he said, giving her a polite bow.

She returned the gesture with a curtsy. “Your Grace.” She giggled, sneaking an unsubtle glance in Ava’s direction.

Christian couldn’t help but roll his eyes with amusement. He didn’t begrudge the ladies their bit of gossip. It seemed clear to him that Lady Nealton was to Ava what Vincent was to him—a safe harbor in the often-treacherous seas of society.

And to be frank, there was little that could sour his morning when Ava was in the same room. Somehow, she had outdone herself; even without the finery of last night, she was breathtaking.

Last night, she had been a glittering goddess, every movement a spell.

Today, in simple attire, she was no less radiant.

Sunlight caught in her hair, highlighting the warm glow of her skin, the soft curve of her shoulders.

She moved with an ease that made his chest tighten, a quiet grace that drew his eyes as if by gravity.

And then, of course, the memory came unbidden—her flush, the arch of her back, the tremor beneath his touch. Heat pooled low in him, a slow burn that tightened his hands into fists at his sides.

He had learned long ago that some desires were impossible to ignore, and Ava—beautiful, irresistible—was one of them.

They had a guest, so he would have to wait until later.

But damn, what he wouldn’t give to take her here and now and make her cry his name in pleasure again.

Now that he had heard her do so multiple times the night before, he knew there was no sound in the world that he would ever find more beautiful.

“I will leave you two ladies to your conversation,” he said. “I will be in my study, if you should need me.”

As he continued towards his study, he passed by the library door and noticed it was open.

Peeking inside, he saw Luke, sitting in a chair with a hefty adventure tome in front of him.

On the arm of his chair, Pudding was curled up beside him, purring.

Just over the purring, Christian could make out the sound of Luke’s voice as he read quietly aloud to himself.

“… and r-reached the mountains of …

Christian quietly entered the library, approaching the boy with light steps. It wasn’t until he was rather close that Luke noticed he was there.

The boy looked up at him and stopped reading.

Christian did his best to give him an encouraging nod. “Go on,” he said.

Luke cleared his throat in a way very reminiscent of his father. “Th-the mountains were c-c-cold …” He eyed his father warily at the stammer.

But Christian maintained an encouraging smile.

After a moment, Luke smiled back. Then he turned his gaze once more to the book.

“… coldest in the m-morning. By midday, th-they were still cold, but just bearable enough to allow for …”

As he continued to read, his stammer all but faded into nonexistence. After a few more paragraphs, he reached the end of the chapter, closing the book with a satisfied smile. He looked up at his father, beaming.

Christian grinned back at him. He reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair—a bit stiff in his movements, perhaps, but Luke rewarded him with an even brighter grin.

Perhaps , Christian thought to himself, I will never be a perfect father.

But this felt like a start.