Page 31 of The Virgin Duchess (Unwanted Brides #2)
Chapter Twenty-Eight
F rederick led Charlotte to the fountain, and though the air was slightly chilly, heat bloomed so heartily from within her that a fine sheen of sweat touched her forehead. She’d been thinking about this moment all day, having planned the entire event. Now that they were finally here, she was both desperate for him and terrified.
At the back of the house where they were little light spilled onto the ground from the massive windows, though there was some. Lilies and morning glories in red and blue surrounded the base of the fountain, and the central structure was that of a swan, the water pouring from its mouth. It rippled steadily, the lily pads floating on the surface slowly shifting.
When Charlotte walked up to it, touching the cool water to take in the thrill of its cool temperature, her reflection eyed her from the dark liquid.
As Frederick had said, there was a bench nearby. It sat beneath a tree at the very back of the garden. They walked over, hand in hand, and took a seat on the finely carved dark wood. Tall trees stretched up on either side of the bench and behind it, creating a private alcove.
“I do love it out here,” Frederick whispered. “Though, I’ll admit that enjoying the gardens is something I’m more inclined to do since your arrival.”
“Oh, really?” Charlotte smiled. “I have been a good influence then.”
He reached up to her cheek, resting his palm against her skin. “You most certainly have, sweet Charlotte.”
After a moment, Frederick’s fingers went to the buttons on the front of his jacket, freeing it from himself and lying it across the back of the bench. His waistcoat was quick to follow, and Charlotte’s breath caught in her chest as he sat near her, wearing only his thin shirt.
“It is a warm evening,” he mused. “We are lucky.”
Charlotte just nodded, but after a moment, she reached up to the ties of her shawl, unlacing it and removing it from her shoulders. The dress she wore didn’t cover them much, and while the air was cool, it was still.
Frederick’s hand found hers again before working its way up her arm. His skin was warm, and she imagined wading into a hot bath, slick and steaming and enveloping. He inched closer to her on the bench, closing the few inches between them, and Charlotte’s heartbeat ticked up faster and faster.
In the quiet, Frederick’s thumb tucked under Charlotte’s chin and forced her to meet his deep gray eyes. “There is something so special about you, Charlotte. I cannot wrap my mind around it.”
Her breath caught in her chest as she trembled slightly beneath his touch.
“Though, I fully intend on figuring it out.” Frederick smiled—a fresh version of the expression that was equal parts arousal and joy. “This…God, Charlotte, I feel as though I might perish should I keep myself from you a moment longer.”
Charlotte’s lips parted with a little gasp, and her brows shot to her hairline. Frederick’s consistent way with words had struck her again, and she was so very ready to, at last, take everything Frederick could give her.
Frederick’s features softened ever so slightly, and Charlotte watched hungrily as his eyes flicked down toward her mouth. Flames rushed through her cheeks and stretched all the way through her body, landing in her toes. Regardless of the apprehension that she still felt, Charlotte could not take it anymore. She needed to fully feel the power of Frederick’s claim.
“Charlotte, I?—”
But Frederick’s words stopped, and he simply pressed his lips to hers. The moment was profound as if her entire body had been struck by lightning. Desire coursed through her veins, a tingling burn that overwhelmed and excited her. His lips against hers were so soft, and within seconds, she lost herself to the feeling of Frederick’s skin on hers, pulling him closer and threading her fingers through his locks.
How am I still this…intoxicated by just kissing him?
But it was undeniable. Frederick’s lips felt as good as they always had, and her core clenched beneath the layers of her skirt. Unable to stop it, a delicate moan slipped free of her, and when Frederick slid his tongue across the seam of her lips. Charlotte quickly let him in, and he explored her mouth with expert precision, taking the back of her neck as he pressed her against his chest.
Reaching up, Charlotte squeezed the fabric of Frederick’s shirt, requiring some sort of anchor against the madding arousal. He nibbled playfully on her bottom lip, and a little whine echoed out of her into the night air.
“Frederick…”
He dipped his tongue inside once again before pulling back slightly. Charlotte felt his stare on her flesh as he admired the flush that filled her cheeks, swiping his thumb across her sensitive lips.
“Ugh, dearest.” Frederick dragged that thumb across her skin, this possessive demand in his touch. “You taste divine.”
Charlotte smiled bashfully, and at once, Frederick dove back into the kiss, now moving to lean her down to the bench. She followed at once, stretching out across the smooth wooden planks as he towered over her. The hunger in her blood was consuming, and Charlotte wrapped her arms around his neck.
The air here smelled so fresh, the spring blooms and trees fragrant, the tumbling water adding to the picturesque atmosphere. She would never have pictured the first time they did this to be out in the estate’s garden, but Charlotte wouldn’t change a thing about it.
Another low moan bloomed from Charlotte as Frederick lowered his caresses down her neck toward her chest, dragging his tongue up the side of her throat to nibble gently before crawling them downward once again. She arched into him, the curves of her breasts pressing against his chest.
“Yes, darling,” Frederick whispered into her ear. “Let me feel how fervently your desire burns.”
With his free hand, Frederick pushed down the strap of her dress, then the other, guiding the fabric down before kissing up along the underside of her upper arm. She squeaked as the sensations tickled her nerves. Still, then Frederick did not stop, whispering his touch to the side of her breast, finding the edge of her stays and teasing along the hem.
“Oh, God.” Charlotte’s voice was a throaty whisper, and she didn’t know what to do or think.
It was utterly intoxicating, and then Frederick was unlacing the front of her stays so that he might shove them down. They rumpled beneath her bosom, all the fabric keeping her from him pulled out of the way. Charlotte’s nipples were hard, the cool air rushing across them and the desire in her making ache for Frederick’s touch.
He freed her breasts from the blasted confines, and she chanced a glance down at herself. Charlotte’s slight, pinprick nipples beaded under Frederick’s fingertips. He rolled one between them, and she whimpered.
“The most charming little bead,” her husband murmured against her skin, circling around the needy flesh as Charlotte arched up once more, “I shall never get enough of it, of you.”
He squeezed on the fair pink skin, Charlotte’s mind scrambling as Frederick took her to those incredible heights yet again.
“Ah, Frederick.” She kept her voice down as much as she could even though she was desperate to groan loudly.
Sliding just the tip of his tongue against her nipple, Frederick smirked.
“Now, my dearest?”
Charlotte simply nodded, already so overcome by the bliss and wonder.
Frederick planted a foot down on the ground and then used his other knee to nudge her legs open. Charlotte bucked against him again, her nipple plunging into his mouth. As Frederick hummed against her skin, sucking on the tiny bud, the pressure was exhilarating, and she reached for her skirt, bunching it up with her fingers.
“ Please ,” she dragged out, and her fiendish husband grinned, pinching her nipple between his teeth before pulling back.
“Please? Are you so in need of me then?” Licking across her, Frederick used his other hand to pull both her breasts entirely out of her top. “Yes, quite. Look how very needy they are for me.”
Charlotte blushed, and then her untouched nipple received the same languishing attention as the first. Dipping his hand lower, Frederick helped Charlotte to lift up her dress. Her core clamped down, her mind spinning. Still, she quickly melted for him as Frederick showered her breasts with playful nibbles and hungry pulls.
“That’s so beautiful, darling.”
“Please, Frederick. I…I can’t wait another moment.”
If it was possible for Charlotte to blush harder, she did. But her husband was a wonderful creature, and she beamed as his hand ducked beneath her dress, stroking over her folds.
“I…I…” Charlotte hovered on the edge of madness already, unsure of what to say.
“What, dearest?” He swiped my finger up her slit, and she arched up into his hand. “I need to hear you say it, Charlotte. I need to hear you tell me yes.”
As she went to speak again, Frederick drove his finger inside her. Charlotte clamped down around him, gasping as it sent her nerves skittering, hardly able to process the pleasure. He stroked slowly yet deeply, brushing against each and every sensitive nerve she possessed.
“Yes, Frederick,” she whispered, “I am ready.”
“God, Charlotte.” He inserted another finger, and Charlotte surged, her walls squeezing down. “I have wanted you so.”
His touch left her for only a moment, and Charlotte knew that he had gone for the fall of his trousers, unfastening their connection to his waist so that he might free himself. Charlotte remembered the size of him, and her nervousness flared.
“I will go slowly.”
Charlotte nodded, and then her mind was lost to her once more as Frederick’s erection brushed against her seam. He took his time just as promised as he sheathed himself inside her. The stretch was immense, but she was so warmed for him that the pain she’d been taught to expect was nothing.
Pumping in and out of her in a steady rhythm, Frederick held her eyes, the connection between them this incredible thing that vibrated like a harp string. She couldn’t look away from him, even as the pleasure crested higher and higher. Charlotte’s body responded to his every move and her soul even more.
“No need to worry, Charlotte.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek as he rocked himself back and forth. “I am right here.”
Frederick dropped his head, planting a gentle kiss on her lips. She wasn’t sure how he had known that it was precisely when she needed to hear, but it was, and her spirit flourished under the care he took of her.
Even more, Charlotte realized that while she was, of course, enjoying what he was doing to her, the sensations utter perfection, she was also enamored with the fact that she was doing this with Frederick. It was him. She was attracted to him. She was falling for him, and no part of her could deny that truth.
The bliss roared, growing as Frederick claimed her virtue so thoroughly. He worked her slow and sure, rolling his hips up when he was fully seated inside her and hitting that magic spot at the top of her walls. It built and built, her eyes eventually shuddering closed.
Frederick worked faster and faster, tangling his lips with hers as he explored her with his tongue, playfully biting her lip on occasion. Charlotte cried out, unable to keep herself quiet as her husband took her to a new realm of passion, his fingers digging into her hips as he anchored himself.
“That’s it, darling. Sing for me.”
Abruptly, Frederick scooped his arm underneath Charlotte to haul her up onto his lap, still keeping himself pressed inside her. She straddled him, his length reaching deeper than anything had, and she did exactly as he’d asked—she sang.
“Ugh! Oh God, Frederick!” Her head fell back, and her husband reached up to take her breast in his hand, gripping her tightly—claiming her as his.
She couldn’t believe what they were doing, imagining the depraved sight they painted out here in the garden at night. As much as she couldn’t wholly understand it, it ignited her passion all the more.
“Charlotte,” Frederick’s words were a plea, a desperate need for her. “You are perfection. God, the feel of you.”
The feeling of her circling her hips, rubbing herself against Frederick, was incredible. He took her hips once more, helping to move her up and down on the length of his shaft in a maddening rhythm. He would pause every so often, alternating between deep penetrations and brusquely taking her.
Charlotte writhed beneath Frederick’s touch, and her moans were unending as her husband’s incredible skills shoved all other thoughts from her mind.
“Frederick…I…oh, God…I’m…”
“Yes. Yes, Charlotte, fall apart for me.”
Charlotte’s legs quivered, and Frederick grasped her breast with one hand as he thrust up into her forcefully. The sensations tipped over that familiar edge, and Charlotte flew off into the stars as it all crescendoed.
She trembled and moaned as her release dragged on, wetness warming her as Frederick continued to claim her. His erection seemed to surge within her, and Charlotte remembered the way it had felt when he’d found his climax from her tongue.
The frantic energy rose, and then Frederick pulsed inside her, that feeling of warmth growing exponentially. He filled her with his release, the power of it bold and so very drawn out. They rode out the wave for several moments before Frederick finally stilled.
As things settled down, Frederick allowed himself to slide free, and then helped Charlotte to sit on the bench next to him. Exhaustion blanketed her, and Charlotte dropped her head onto Frederick’s chest as he put his arm around her. They were quiet, only the sound of their breaths standing out against the fountain’s falling water.
“You are perfection, darling,” Frederick whispered into her ear, her heartbeat hammering against her ribs.
Looking up at him with sleepy eyes, Charlotte’s breaths rushed in and out of her, and she had to chuckle at the sight she likely was. Frederick reached for her, begrudgingly repositioning the layers of her top so that she was no longer exposed.
Charlotte felt so profoundly undone, and it was such a beautiful feeling. Frederick held her close, neither of them making a move to leave the bench and return inside. They had time, and she would take every moment of it she could, enjoying this blissful afterward that followed.
She was no longer a virgin. She had given herself entirely to her husband, to Frederick. While some nerves over the future lingered, Charlotte could not deny that she was terribly happy. And if she stayed here all night in his arms, she knew she would wake that way as well.