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As his thumb found her clitoris again, and he resumed his teasing, the pressure passed.
“If at any moment you want me to stop, tell me, and I will. Do you understand?”
Stop? That was the last thing she wanted him to do at the moment, but it was nice to know she had the choice.
“I understand,” she murmured, opening her legs wide. “Will it feel as good as what you’re doing with your thumb and your mouth?”
He nodded, closed his eyes as though in pain, then rose and began undressing himself. Her sex clenched tighter as he opened one button after another of his coat.
Without looking away for a moment, his gaze always dark and intense on her, he dropped his black tailored coat to the floor. Her eyes widened as they lowered to the very large bulge between his legs, its shape clearly visible beneath his breeches, and a shock of fear ran through her.
He unbuttoned his scarlet waistcoat, and he was left in the breeches and his white shirt, the muscles of his broad shoulders rolling under the fabric. He tugged the shirt from his breeches and pulled it over his shoulders.
“Heavens…” she murmured, breathless.
He was so beautifully carved, he could be a Greek statue—broad shoulders, the hard outlines of biceps, and a very defined chest. He wasn’t bulky but tall and lean, with ridges on his hard stomach that led into straight hips like a perfect triangle, pointing down towards the mysterious bulge.
“Do you like what you see, Duchess?” he purred.
“Yes…um…yes, very much.”
His gaze dropped to her spread thighs. “So do I.”
She chuckled, but the smile died on her face when he dropped his breeches and stepped out of his boots.
And she saw what the bulge was.
It was his member. Long, thick…it seemed enormous. And it was pointing straight at her. It was the size of a very large candlestick.
“This is what will go inside you, darling,” he said as he palmed his impressive organ. “If you want to.”
She couldn’t speak and simply opened and closed her mouth. Even a tip of his finger caused uncomfortable pressure. How would this ever fit?
And yet, a strange sort of heat rushed through her. Being taken by him that way, being connected body to body, soul to soul…
“Is this what you meant by wifely duties?” she asked.
“Yes, darling.”
“And will it fit in?”
“It will. And you’ll love it. I promise. And if not, I’ll stop. So help me God.”
She swallowed and nodded. “I just mean, it’s so big, I don’t know how it can ever not…hurt.”
He leaned over her and stretched along her on the sofa. He was so tall, he couldn’t fully extend his body, but he pressed against her, hot and hard and so pleasant.
He kissed her and took her hand in his, laying it on his naked chest. Her fingers caressed his smooth skin under the dusting of soft, dark hair. She was touching him for the first time, and her skin was ablaze with a prickly, beautiful energy. A tall, long, naked male lay next to her, warming her with his heat like he was a living and breathing furnace. She could see scars on his body, perhaps from his fencing lessons or his wild childhood days. He had only his right glove on.
She ran her hand down his hard muscles. “I love touching you,” she whispered. “You’re so solid, and big, and beautiful.”
He chuckled. “Beautiful?”
“You are.”
“It’s you who’s beautiful, love. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her throat clenched at the compliment, and then he led her fingers to pass the soft curls and then encircle his member… She gasped. Good Lord, it was hot and hard and yet silky.
