Page 26 of The Virgin Duchess (Unwanted Brides #2)
Chapter Twenty-Three
T he mood in the room shifted, and Frederick’s eyes tracked Charlotte. She could feel each inch of skin they landed on, and the billowing inferno in her blood rumbled everything inside her.
“I believe you know exactly what I speak of.” Frederick brought her face closer to his, hovering his lips over hers. “But if you require the words…”
The pause hung heavy and profound between them as Frederick deposited a gentle kiss on her lips, working them down the curve of her jaw and to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. He breathed against her skin, his lips now poised at the shell of her ear.
“…I was referring to when that cunning mouth of yours claimed me so thoroughly that I released everything I had across your tongue.”
Her pulse rushed for the sky, Charlotte’s legs clamping together as the low burn in her core started up. Frederick could play her like an expert musician, finding and plucking her chords so that she was a melody constructed only for him.
“Frederick,” it was a breathy moan, and Charlotte didn’t care, giving herself over to the need, “yesss.”
As she hissed out the word, he sank his teeth into the flesh of her neck, biting playfully. The barest hint of pain spun her mind, and Charlotte’s humming arousal stepped up higher.
They tumbled back onto the bed, landing on their sides. Frederick was quick to crawl atop her, plying her with kisses from her lips to her neck to the delicate seam of her chemise where it poked out just barely from behind her dress. His hands roamed over her body, trailing down her shoulders to push down the fabric there and then to her hips. Charlotte groaned low as he gathered up the skirts covering her legs, bunching them up so that she would be exposed for him.
Exposed…oh Lord, the door.
She craned up onto her elbows, looking down at Frederick breathless. When he glanced back at her, that devilish grin on his face, Charlotte forced herself to speak the words instead of reaching for him and claiming another kiss.
“The door is not locked.” Charlotte gestured with her head at it. “You should?—”
“What if I didn’t?” Frederick smiled all the harder—sinful and delicious.
“Are you serious? What if one of the maids or?—”
“I am aware dearest. But,” Frederick held Charlotte’s stare, shoving more of her skirt up so that her thighs tingled with the rush of cooler air around her skin, “what if I didn’t?”
The concept was such a departure from the few private moments they had shared, but if Charlotte were honest with herself, she was intrigued by it. The notion increased the heat in her blood, and she nodded back at him with her own smile, biting her lip.
Frederick went right back to work, moving the layers of fabric that covered her out of his way. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to take things to their final destination, but her husband didn’t appear to be asking for that.
For the first time, Charlotte thought that she might just allow herself to see where this led and make her decisions in the moment. It was exhilarating, and the fact that someone might discover them was this novel proclivity that filled her with both mortification and arousal.
With her skirts no longer standing in his way, Frederick got down on his knees at the foot of the bed, yanking Charlotte by the hips so that her rear was perched on the edge. Kisses dotted the inside of her thigh, and Frederick eased her legs farther apart.
“Oh, God.” She slipped backward, falling onto the bed where her pointer finger immediately went to her teeth so that she might have something to bite.
She was still fully clothed, and there was something about the fact that she was, that Frederick remained buttoned up with even his jacket still in place over his waistcoat, that took the already powerful lust swirling inside her and ramped it up to the rafters. Frederick knelt on the ground in his fine trousers, and he was about to feast on her like she was the most exquisite indulgence.
Charlotte’s nerves tingled as her husband worked his kisses higher and higher. The pads of his fingers dug into her thighs, keeping her open even as she couldn’t help but try and close them. She chewed on her knuckle, burying her moans in her skin so they didn’t ring through the house.
“Keep these open, darling.” Frederick glanced at her quickly before gazing down between her legs. “I’ll be needing my fingers.”
Her blood whooshed through her veins, and Charlotte was all too aware of each sensation blooming through her—the ache in her finger from how she clamped her teeth down on it, the hum in her veins, the tension in her womb, the hum in the bud of her slick seam.
“Please,” she whined, “please, Frederick. You cannot keep me on edge like this.”
He chuckled. “Of course not, darling. I aim only to please you, to allow you to lose yourself to the pleasure.”
Without another word, Frederick slid his tongue up through her folds. Charlotte bucked against his mouth, and he pressed her thighs back down to the bed as he began to roam her slippery center with his caresses.
The need for release was nearly immediate, a growing wave in Charlotte’s entire being that cried out for that cliff so that she might leap from it. Frederick’s grip was fierce on her legs, and the pinch was exquisite, adding to the ecstasy. When she forced herself to keep her legs spread, curious how Frederick might use his hands, he paused for just a moment to grin up at her.
“That’s my girl.”
It was a challenge of her strength to keep herself there, though. Frederick’s plying touches pulled so much intense pleasure from her body that it was almost too much to withstand. And still, Charlotte craved more. When she thought he might have forgotten about his words, Frederick’s fingers walked up the inside of her thigh until they hit the soft skin that had been untouched before him.
“If you don’t want a maid running in here with concern,” Frederick murmured against her flesh, “I’d bite that knuckle hard.”
She did as told, and then one long digit slid inside her. Charlotte whimpered, her fraught moans only just stifled by how she chewed on her finger. Frederick sunk deeper inside her, swirling his finger until Charlotte thought she might go mad.
And then another pressed into her. She was stretched around his fingers, the sensation of fullness adding to the stimulation of her nerves. It was incredible, and she began to understand all the more why making love to someone might be spoken of so highly, so desired that there were those who sold their services to deliver it.
Frederick pumped his fingers in and out of her in a divine rhythm. All the while, he licked and sucked on that oversensitive bud at her tip. The dual efforts were perfectly paired, one fueling the other. Charlotte struggled to keep her legs open, and when Frederick rotated his hand and found the downright magical spot at the top of her walls, she finally faltered.
Her legs closed around Frederick’s head, but he didn’t stop. Charlotte’s hand flew to his hair, and she gripped it tight. Unable to hold back, she rocked against his mouth, searching out that climax that loomed right around the corner.
“Frederick,” Charlotte arched up off the bed as he added a third finger, “oh God, oh God, oh God. It’s so much.”
Tears prickled at her eyes, and she felt her husband begin to back off. Shooting up on her elbows again, Charlotte glared down at Frederick.
“Don’t you dare.” She squeezed the locks of his hair. “Don’t stop.”
“As you wish, precious.”
Laying back down, Charlotte closed her eyes, focusing on the feelings swelling within her. Sweat beaded at the back of her neck, and she knew it gathered beneath her dress as well. She was this wanton thing, so desperate for more, and it still excited her that Frederick was tasting her center with her skirts merely shoved up out of the way.
Reality blurred at that point. Everything became the feelings, the work done to her body by this incredible man. Charlotte couldn’t hold back the moans, and this wild part of her didn’t care. They were married, and if the staff heard her, they would know not to interrupt.
Emotions swirled together with the hedonistic joy. She was so grateful to Frederick for this, for the way he spoke with her about Selina. He cared enough to lend his advice. He cared enough to give her this pleasure, freeing her mind from the terrible weight of guilt and sorrow.
Perhaps…perhaps she was falling in love with him.
A crack of lightning speared through Charlotte as Frederick hooked his three fingers into her upper walls. He sucked on that little button simultaneously, and she was going to lose it. She was going to fall apart for him right now.
“Frederick. Ugh! I…Oh, God. It’s right?—”
Her words were cut off as the scale finally tipped. Pleasure swam through her as she soared over the rockface of crescendoing sensations into the vast open sky of completion. She clenched her thighs around him, her channel clamping down around his fingers as she pulsed against his mouth. Her release pounded through her stronger than a freight train, leaving her a breathless, slippery mess.
Everything paused, and then she felt Frederick slip free of her. The emptiness was horrid, and she whimpered at the loss of him. Craning sideways to look down at him, Charlotte saw the most beautiful, glistening grin plastered across Frederick’s face, and she smiled back.
“You’re so beautiful, darling.” His voice was soft, almost reverent.
“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 was slightly 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 is truly what 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 a seamstress'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… very good.”
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.