DukeAndEnchantress_PGolden-eBooks

by Golden, Paullett

  Well then.

  Not one to tempt fate in case she changed her mind, he sat up and unknotted his cravat, and then struggled out of his coat while she unbuttoned the last button of his waistcoat. She pushed it off his shoulders, folded it, and set it neatly on top of his coat. When she tugged at his shirt, he yanked it up and over his head, tossing it aside.

  He paused while she caressed his chest, splaying a hand over his pecs to run her fingers through the hair. Her eyes trained on his, she leaned in and flicked his nipple with her tongue until it hardened.

  Drake groaned and held himself upright with one hand against the rug, the other hand reaching for the hairpins in her hair. As she explored his chest, he released her curls one by one, enjoying the sensation of her hair tickling his skin as it fell around him.

  She sat up, then, and swiveled her back to him.

  “Could you loosen me so I can take off the dress?” she asked.

  His heart raced, and his manhood throbbed. He felt giddy as a schoolboy at the thought of finally seeing his wife bare fleshed. He complied until her gown hung loosely around her shoulders. She stood, turned towards him again, and let the dress fall to the ground. After stepping out of it, she squatted and folded the dress.

  Damn. She took his breath away.

  He had known she wasn’t wearing a petticoat when he explored her earlier, but he hadn’t paid enough attention to realize she hadn’t been wearing stays either. How had he missed that detail? Had she planned to seduce him today, knowing they had the manor to themselves, or did she never wear stays?

  She knelt before him, naked and glorious. For an embarrassing length of time, he admired her, taking in every curve of her body, every crevice, every freckle. Her body was so different from his previous lover’s, so taut, so pink. She was perfect.

  When he noticed her biting her bottom lip, watching him gawk at her, he stretched an arm to trace her nipples just as she had done to him. The skin was soft as silk beneath his fingertips. He circled the nipple, making the skin crease and pucker, her breath sharpening as he played.

  He paid a visit to the other nipple until they both stood at attention, then he stroked her stomach down past her belly button until he touched the bed of hair he had tasted only moments ago. He slipped his fingers between the lips to discover she was wet and ready for him, or at least her body was, the rest of her likely anxious and timid.

  “Would you like to take off my breeches, or shall I?” he asked, circling the nub between her lips until she closed her eyes and rocked against his hand.

  She mumbled an inaudible response. He chuckled, continuing to draw tight circles. She moaned, eyes still closed, and tried pressing harder against his hand until she lost her balance and toppled on him. He caught her and laughed, taking her mouth in a greedy kiss. She placed her palm to his chest to push him back against the rug and laughed with him.

  “I want you to undress me, Charlotte. I want you to take charge.”

  Her lips curved into a shy but naughty grin. “How do I take them off?” she questioned.

  “There are buttons on the top, the lace in the back, and then the buttons and laces on the sides. You might want to start with my boots, however. Just a bit of advice.” He continued to chuckle, not remembering a time when he had laughed so much during foreplay.

  Taking his advice, she tugged off his boots and stockings, and then turned to his breeches. He rather enjoyed her undressing him. The simple act of her hands working over his clothing was oddly erotic. He may just reconsider his valet’s nightly duties if she ever considered moving into his bedchamber permanently.

  What a curious thought. Would she be offended at such a suggestion, or would she welcome it? He hardened to an almost painful throb at the thought of sleeping next to her, taking her throughout the night, waking next to her every morning. Good heavens.

  She unfastened the front of his breeches and worked her way down to the buttons at the knees.

  “I fantasized about you doing this on our wedding night,” he teased her, speaking more boldly than he felt given they were still so close to the line between acquaintances and lovers.

  Her hands stilled at the last button. “Pardon?” She looked up, clearly taken aback.

  “I went to you fully dressed hoping we could make a game of undressing each other.” He rolled onto his elbow to play with her nipples again.

  Truth be told, he wanted to distract her from what he had just said, even if it was true. He wanted to confess every thought he’d ever had to her, a bond between lovers, but he hadn’t thought she may only recall the humiliation she felt that evening. Oh, don’t have ruined this moment, he thought to himself. It was only a joke.

  To his relief, she blushed and finished the last button.

  “Did you really?” she asked, her cheeks becomingly rosy, just like the breast he touched.

  “Indeed. I think you should take over undressing me in place of my valet. I’m enjoying this.” Drake tilted himself enough to reach her breast with his tongue.

  Charlotte gasped and pushed him back to the floor. “Lie still. I have to pull off your breeches.”

  He lifted his hips so she could finish undressing him. Before she set them aside, he snatched them from her and wadded them under his head for a pillow. His valet would kill him when he discovered the creased buckskin, but that was his problem, not Drake’s.

  The rug scratched against his backside uncomfortably, but he didn’t mind as long as Charlotte was happy. He smiled at her hesitancy, petting her bare thigh, hoping to coax her into the next stage of intimacy. She eyed him warily, but her eyes showed more than wariness. Her eyes twinkled in the candle light with curiosity and desire, not to mention appreciation for his naked form, or so he hoped.

  Without instruction, she shifted her weight onto one knee and straddled him, both legs on either side of his stomach, her bottom coming to rest on his abdomen.

  Not quite how he envisioned their first time, but who was he to deny the woman? When she placed her hands on his chest and the warmth of her palms permeated his skin, he lost the ability to think. All he could do was smell her sweetness, listen to her labored breathing, look up into the curl-framed face, and feel her bare bottom against his stomach and her silky skin enveloping his torso.

  Loving every feature, he touched her flushed cheeks and traced her jaw until his fingers brushed against her lips. She licked a finger and took it into her mouth, closing her eyes as she made love to one finger at a time.

  Hell and damnation. He was going to mess on her back before they did anything if she continued.

  Somewhat reluctantly, he pulled back his fingers and placed both hands on her hips, urging her to move down. Her golden eyes trained on his, she lifted herself, scooted down, and lowered until her body touched his. He moaned at the contact, the feel of her moist lower lips caressing him. His hands trembled, uncertain how to proceed. The first time might cause her pain, and the last thing he wanted was to cause pain.

  “I want you,” she insisted, sensing his uncertainty.

  He exhaled shakily.

  She lifted her body so he could adjust himself at her entrance, warm, wet, and tight. His tip positioned, he took hold of her hips and pushed her down onto him. He inched forward as bravely as he dared, desperate to plunge into her, but dreading any pain she might experience.

  Her lips spread around him, hugging him, welcoming him. Charlotte whimpered. He paused. She repositioned her hands on his chest and nodded, her mouth drawn in a straight line. He slipped in further. Once more, she whimpered and wriggled away. He pulled her torso down and against his chest, wrapping his arms around her back.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said into her curls, nuzzling his cheek to hers.

  “Are you confident you’re doing it right?” she asked.

  He laughed in spite of the situation and said, “Yes
, I’m confident. Although, I confess, I’ve never been with a virgin. I’m afraid I won’t fit without hurting you. You’re, how should I say, snugger than I’m used to.”

  Charlotte turned her face to his and cringed. “What if you do it quickly? You know, push ahead?”

  He hesitated. “I’m not certain that’s the best course of action, my dear.”

  She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Yes, it is. Do it quickly.”

  He hoped this didn’t end in tears. Charlotte repositioned herself with her hands against his chest and her hips raised, ready for him. Once positioned, his tip secure within her velvety folds, he held onto her hips. With a forceful and steady grip, he pulled her down as he thrust into her, flesh inside of flesh.

  Charlotte cried out and clenched her body around him. Buried within her, he didn’t move. He watched her, trying to ignore for a moment the all-consuming pulse in his loins, the feel of her throbbing body stretched taut around him, filled with him, welcoming him as if they were meant to be joined as one.

  Cautiously, he lifted her hips away from him, up the length of his manhood until cool air tickled his flesh.

  “No,” Charlotte said. “Don’t stop. I only need a moment to recover. Don’t leave me.”

  “I’m not leaving, Charlotte. I’m not stopping either, at least not yet. Trust me,” he said.

  Drake eased back into her until he was snugly enveloped inside her. She gasped at the renewed contact.

  Hoarsely, he said, “I may not last long, not when you feel this amazing, my darling.”

  Instead of lifting her hips this time, he rocked them forward along the length of him, ensuring her pelvis rubbed against his, pleasuring her with the skin-to-skin friction. When she drew in a sharp breath, he rocked her hips back so he could thrust in again.

  As he rocked her forward and back, kneading her nub against his groin, he said, “Take over when you’re ready.”

  At first, she shook her head, but even while denying the offer, her hips began to move against his, meeting his thrusts with her own.

  “Yes, that’s it. Ride me, my love. I want you to take control.” He ran his fingers through her hair, concentrating on the sensation of silk in his hands and silk below. “Ride me to the rhythm of the sonata. Feel the rhythm, Charlotte.”

  Their hips rocked until she began to move of her own volition. He gentled his thrusts so she could take over.

  Her movements taught him a new meaning of love making. Instead of two bodies joined in carnal pleasure, he felt connected to her by a string from his heart to hers, by his body inside of hers as though they were one person, one soul. Her rhythm matched the sonata, and all he heard around him was music. Their verbal utterances of desire and satisfaction supplied the melody, the soft sucking of wet friction the harmony.

  He stared into the eyes of the most beautiful woman he had ever known, feeling her enjoyment as her muscles tightened around him with each plunge. He knew the moment she reached the climax of the music when her rhythm transitioned into syncopated staccato. As her body convulsed and shuddered around him, she dropped her hands to either side of his head, pressing her breasts against his chest. Drake wrapped his arms around her and released himself into her with a final thrust just as her body tensed.

  He cried out with her in his arms, climaxing with her until they both relaxed against each other, breathless and laughing.

  Chapter 22

  One week and a special license later, they all stood on the cliffside of Dunstanburgh Castle, Sebastian’s home, celebrating the nuptials of Sebastian and Lizbeth. Drake’s chest swelled with pride that with Hazel’s help, his matchmaking efforts paid off and Sebastian had finally proposed to his perfect mate. Now, Charlotte would have her sister living only fifteen miles away, and his cousin could find the happiness he deserved, not to mention Drake would have a lifelong opportunity to befriend his prickly sister-in-law, a challenge he couldn’t resist.

  The wedding party was small, including only himself, his mother, Mary, Hazel, Charlotte, the bride and groom, and a handful of Sebastian’s servants. Drake thought it a heartfelt and beautiful wedding, the love birds ogling each other through the vows and everyone present able to see how deeply in love they were with each other.

  Although, he conceded, he didn’t know how he had a moment to notice the ceremony when he had eyes only for Charlotte. His attention was trained on her through the speech and the vows, as though today represented his marriage to her, the woman he knew as a confident, passionate, and enchanting soul.

  She almost didn’t seem the same woman he married. He remembered their wedding in London at the close of the Season, his bride a blushing girl who giggled and gaped at him, in awe that he had chosen her. The woman standing before him now was a duchess in more than name. She had grown in only four months into a poised lady of elegant refinement, a leader in the household who earned the respect of the staff, a supporter of the downtrodden in the community, and the most sensual lover Drake had ever had the pleasure of knowing.

  As Sebastian slipped the ring on Lizbeth’s finger, Charlotte glanced at Drake, followed by a bashful but coy smile when she realized he was watching her. Truly, the most wonderful woman, and she was his.

  The wedding party moved inside the castle after the ceremony, but not for long. Sebastian had arranged a full evening of entertainment since the entire party would be staying at the castle for the night, even Mother, entertainment that included an extravagant meal, games, and fireworks that evening.

  The irony was that the celebration wouldn’t be attended by the wedding couple. Within moments of relocating inside, Sebastian whisked off his new wife to begin their wedding night in the afternoon hours. Of all the people in the wedding party, Drake appreciated that sentiment the most and gave a silent hoorah to his cousin, eager to rib him about the whole of it after the honeymoon.

  As soon as the couple disappeared, undressing each other with their eyes on the way out the door, Drake stepped over to Charlotte and offered his arm.

  “Walk with me?” he asked.

  She took his arm and chided, “I’ve only just escaped the wind, and now you want me to brave it all over again?”

  “I’ll block the wind for you.” He winked, directing her back outside and towards the gazebo at the edge of the cliff, leaving behind a trio of bewildered ladies who had been abandoned by the only two couples present.

  Dunstanburgh was as different from Lyonn Manor as the two cousins were from each other, the homes a reflection of their masters. The castle, which his cousin had painstakingly rebuilt into a comfortable home over the course of a decade, sat on a cliff overlooking the North Sea, the stone walls formidable, the land wild and unkempt, surrounded by marshlands and rock covered beaches, and the weather unpredictable, all so unlike Lyonn Manor with its rolling hills, manicured landscape, and serenity.

  The cliffside was a noisy affair, Drake thought. Seagulls cawed from the marsh, the wind howling and whipping about them while the waves beat against the cliff with a foamy mist that reached all the way to the gazebo.

  Charlotte turned to him, clutching her bonnet. “The gazebo is almost large enough to be a pavilion. I wonder that he didn’t think to enlarge it. It would certainly make an ideal location for a small orchestra during a fete.”

  “I really don’t imagine Sebastian ever planned to host a party. A picnic, perhaps, a place for reflection, but a party? I don’t think you realize quite how reclusive my cousin is,” Drake answered.

  “Poor Lizbeth. I hope she didn’t marry him to stay close to me. I begged her to move here, but I couldn’t bear to think I’m the cause of a lifetime with that man.” Charlotte tightened the ribbons under her chin to secure the bonnet and sat on one of the benches in the gazebo.

  “You underestimate the power of love, my dearest. Didn’t you see the way they looked at each other during the ceremony?” Drake asked.r />
  Charlotte ignored him and said, “I asked her just this morning if she was only marrying him because she has to. Although they’ve not had any time alone, I worried, perhaps, he found some way to—, well, I would hate to think her marrying him because she has to. There seems no other reason for the rush. A special license? It’s insupportable! Why not wait for the banns to be read and do it properly?”

  “Ever think they wanted to marry before your Aunt Hazel leaves? She leaves in two days, Charlotte. It would delay her an entire month for the banns to be read, pushing too close to the winter months for her travel,” Drake explained.

  “Nonsense. It’s not going to snow in October,” Charlotte dismissed.

  Drake laughed, looking out onto the rough sea, waves rising in white caps and barreling towards the coast. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but life in Northumberland is altogether different than you’re used to in the south. In all likelihood it will snow in October, the first snow of the year. Certainly, the snow could hold out until November, but by then, Hazel would be in a carriage traveling south, possibly caught in the weather. Are you willing to take that risk? Sebastian and Lizbeth were not so willing.”

  Drake scooted closer to his wife on the stone bench and slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Personally,” Drake continued, “I think she took one look at the castle and decided putting up with Lord Grumpy was worth being mistress of Dunstanburgh.”

  Charlotte laughed, likely finding his suggestion more absurd than Lizbeth falling in love with Sebastian. He hoped she would be able to spend more time with her sister now that they lived close, for as much as she loved Lizbeth, she didn’t seem to know her own sister very well. Even Drake could tell Lizbeth’s disposition matched the atmosphere of the castle, and her heart belonged to his cousin.

  “Has Mary told you,” he asked, “about her new beau? I took them both riding the day before yesterday.”