Pausing, Antonio repeated his words silently, like a mantra: Caro came here of her own free will. I need not marry her. I need not marry her.
He lusted for her during their interrupted lovemaking under the willow and still yearned to be inside her luscious body. He needed… Dios! He needed her wet warmth tightening around his cock in the most intimate of caresses.
Antonio rested his back against the willow's trunk and motioned Caroline to sit next to him. “Come, tell me more about your early life,” he said. If she relaxed, his seduction would be that much easier—careful, slow, and even gentle.
Caroline slid across the space on the blanket next to him, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on bent knees like a child. Antonio put a strong hand around her waist and drew her back against his chest. She didn’t resist. He looked down at her and smiled. Again, he caught the unmistakable fragrance of roses. No one smelled quite as good as Caroline Lockler did.
“I’ve led a rather uneventful life, Tonio,” she began.
“Umm? You must’ve been no more than…what, three and ten when I first came to England, Caro?” he commented, urging her to go on. “Tell me what has happened since then.”
“So much,” she said, plucking at a blade of grass. “After my mother died, Papa and I were alone much of the time except for the servants. I suppose I was a bit wild, so Papa engaged a combination companion and governess for me when I was sixteen, to teach me a bit of town bronze before my come out.” She smiled lazily, remembering.
“Hal was away at university. With you.” Looking up at Antonio she saw his expression was intent as he listened. “I dismissed Miss Thurston when our family physician determined what Papa suffered from couldn’t be cured.” Caroline dipped her head so he wouldn’t see the tears welling in her eyes.
Antonio leaned over and brushed a soft kiss along her cheekbone. “I’m very sorry, Caro.” Inhaling her fragrance, his arm tightened around her, and he buried his nose in her hair.
Ignoring his tender caress, Caroline pulled her wits together and sat up straight. “That's when Hal came home after racketing around London with those other footloose noblemen,” she said, adding, “like you.”
Just like me, Antonio thought.
“He needed to prepare, learn the manor's business for when he assumed our father’s title.” Caroline seemed lost in her retelling as she stared blankly at the foamy, bubbling water rushing by them a short distance in the stream. “I spent most of my days with Papa. He loved to have me read to him.” Idly, Caroline plucked at the fabric of her shirt. “Papa was able to get around until he was confined to bed the last month before…”
Antonio nodded, saying nothing. He tightened his grip on Caroline and gently pulled her back against him again. His fingertips traced little soothing circles over the ribs beneath her breasts. Somehow, he had pulled her onto his lap, her temple and cheek resting against his chest and shoulder.
“Papa rallied. He wanted me to go ahead with my come out even though I didn’t want to leave him.” Antonio gently stroked her hair as she fought back tears. “Papa and I were close, you see. I loved him dearly,” she said. “He fought…his sickness…and died quite slowly. It took two years.”
“Was it then you decided to marry?” Antonio asked.
“It was decided for me. Papa and Richard were close friends. Richard was a widower. Papa asked him to take care of me since I’d made no marriage connections during the brief time I spent in London.”
“I see,” said Antonio. “Then it was a marriage of convenience.”
“I did what my father asked of me,” she answered, “to make his last days more peaceful knowing I was…settled. But…”
He raised one eyebrow in question. “What?”
“Nothing,” Caroline said. She almost blurted out the last wish her father made on his deathbed—that she marry for love. But it wasn’t to be.
“Pobrecita, Caro.” Antonio nibbled tender kisses over her cheek. She raised her lips, wanting his comfort. At first, the kisses were gentle, soothing. Then Antonio took Caroline’s mouth in a long, drugging kiss that left them both panting. Antonio’s hand slid under her loose shirt to caress a breast, aware that she wore no corset. He squeezed gently and found a nipple.
She jerked when he touched it, sucking in a gasp then relaxing.
“Let me pleasure you,” Antonio said, pinching the bud through the thin fabric of her chemise until it pouted.
“Ah, cara,” he murmured, using the Spanish word instead of her pet name. “See how sweetly you respond to my touch.” He rolled the nipple between two fingers.
Pleasure rolled through Caroline’s nerve endings, settling between her thighs with an unknown sensation. Unconsciously, she arched upward, her breasts reaching for more caresses as a soft whimper escaped her lips.
Antonio exhaled a sweet, wet, warm breath, blowing against her skin. His lust expanded, growing like his cock and aching testicles, which were soon filled and heavy with desire as he manipulated Caroline’s nipple under his knowing fingers.
She curled her straining fingers into the soft fabric of Antonio’s shirt, gripping hard as sensation surged like rising waves of torrential heat, cascading through her naive body.
Antonio drew back just long enough to say, “There is no need to rush, Caro. I can see you’re trembling. Are you so anxious for us to make love? For me to be inside you?”
She locked her gaze with his and heard herself answer with an almost inaudible whisper, “Tonio, I…”
He kissed her again, deeply, slowly, his questing tongue plunging, caressing the delicious cavern of her mouth, his lips never leaving Caroline’s while he unbuttoned her shirt and pushed both shirt and chemise off of her shoulders. A wise lover, Antonio knew how vulnerable Caroline was at this moment. Her eyes had drooped shut, much of the rest of her lying half-naked across his lap.
“Look at me now, Caro. Open your eyes so I know what you’re feeling,” he said.
Hazily, Caroline gazed up at him through feathery lashes, wondering how to help with the duke’s lovemaking. She didn’t know quite what to do next. No one but Antonio had ever made love to her. His knowing hands smoothed over her, her senses reeling. His passionate kisses left her gasping. Ready to adhere to any path of least resistance, she was wholly entranced by each new tantalizing movement he made while caressing her.
The color of Caroline’s dazed eyes deepened to a sultry, glowing emerald in response to Antonio’s caresses. When he noticed the look of submission crossing her face, he knew she was his for the taking.
“Mi querida.” He leaned down and devoured a rosy nipple. Caroline tensed briefly but soon relaxed. She pressed a breast into his mouth. “Do it more, Tonio,” she begged finally. He teased one breast, sucking it fully into his mouth, tugging on the tight little cherry until Caroline writhed with new sensations. When he shifted his lips, he licked and caressed the other breast in turn.
Antonio suckled more vigorously, and shockwaves rocketed to the spot between Caroline’s thighs, shooting as swiftly as arrows to her womb and igniting sizzling flames of heat within her. She clutched the duke’s head tight, her fingers opening and closing spasmodically on his raven locks as he devoured her breasts.
“Don't stop, Tonio, please. Oh God, don't stop what you’re doing!”
Her frantic plea simply fueled his ardor.
Antonio abandoned a breast and slid down across Caroline’s flat stomach to the rounded flesh at the juncture of her thighs. He rubbed the heel of one hand over her Venus mound, circling, circling, until she pushed against his palm. Fingers that once strummed a guitar so exquisitely, stroked over the fabric between her legs. He found the cleft and rubbed until her breeches were wet and she was squirming.
“Tonio, I-I think…”
His cock had grown big and rock-solid, his erection pulsing with heat and want against his breeches. Still, he maintained control. He wanted their foreplay to last as long as possible.
; “Call me Tatu,” he murmured. His whisper was narcotic, thick and sweet as honey. “I promise we’ll be lovers very soon, but let me hear you say my pet name now.”
Remembering the childish name Briella used that day in Weston House’s back parlor, Caroline wrung his name from her throat. “Tatu…oh, yes, please…Tatu. Do something to…”
“Yes, querida,” he interrupted, exhaling with a breath. “Very soon now.” One of his arms supported her while his free hand worked quickly at unfastening her breeches until he realized Caroline still wore her footwear! “Caramba! What is wrong with me? Lie still while I remove your boots, Caro.”
Quickly Antonio slipped from beneath her. She didn’t resist. Passion-laden eyes followed his every move. Gently, he yanked off her boots and tugged until Caroline’s breeches slid off, too. Her shirt was thrown aside. Her chemise hung around her waist. Her body was his to touch, taste, and make love to.
He took a moment to enjoy her voluptuous nakedness. She was beautiful, he thought, as he savored her pale womanly flesh, so white and soft compared to his tinted skin and coarse, hairy parts. Her breasts were perfectly formed and the right size for his hands. He’d been captivated by another small mole on her left breast. It tantalized him like the one near her mouth.
Antonio gazed at her, admiring the flat, almost concave scoop of her stomach. His eyes traced over the protruding bones of her hips where they flared into womanly curves. The shiny curls covering the triangle between her thighs glistened darker than her tresses but were no less enticing. Her calves and trim ankles were still encased in stockings, and seeing her exposed from the knees up, his mouth grew dry with expectation. His erection throbbed like a thousand drumbeats pounding through his blood.
He lowered himself onto Caroline, nudging her legs open, leaning over her with his clothed body. Her eyes opened, and he kissed her again, deeply, until she sighed softly in pleasure. Swiftly, Antonio bent his head to lick a path down her belly with his tongue. Arms flung wide, Caroline surrendered herself to his lovemaking.
Antonio’s sexual need burned hotter, higher, less controlled. “How very lovely you are, Caro,” he said, his voice shaking with desire.
He drew a warm hand across the silky skin of her belly and tangled his fingers in the dark curls between her thighs. He thought by now that Caroline was ready for him.
Unconsciously, Caroline allowed her legs to fall open wider.
Antonio’s smile was wicked.
Caroline’s insides had quivered when he touched her between the thighs. She had wanted Antonio when she saw him again weeks ago, even after those eight long years when he was miles away, in Spain, whether she realized it or not. Now she wanted him to make love to her; she wanted to give herself to the man she loved for the first time in her life, married or not. So she arched her hips to coax him to where she needed him. Hands roamed over the broad, warm muscles of his back, under his shirt, pulling him over her.
Searching between the plump folds of her sex, Antonio found Caroline drenched with her own fluid. He stroked her with an index finger, teasing the tiny sheath that hid her clit. He stroked until she was tossing her head from side to side on the ground then used a finger to enter her.
“Do you like me touching you like this, Caro?” He pushed another blunt finger inside her vagina, pleasuring her, describing to her half in English, half in Spanish, what he was doing, what he wanted her to feel and enjoy.
“Does it feel good?”
When she nodded in silent agreement, he kept stroking, this time a bit stronger.
Caramba! She’s so tight!
He thought to stretch her to accommodate his size.
“Tonio, wait. I…ohhh…” Caroline gripped the ground beside her hips, her fingers unconsciously pulling up handfuls of long meadow grass.
Now he was moving faster, more insistent, testing her reactions with his caresses.
Caroline’s knees drooped wider. She moaned aloud as Antonio teased all manner of devastating new sensations from her willing body.
“Please, I…”
“Tell me, querida,” Antonio growled, his voice gone rough, tense, and hoarse with emotion. “Tell me you want me inside you, amante. Do you? Now?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “Oh yes!” Caroline answered, wishing their lovemaking to continue. “I do! Please hurry, Tatu! I don’t want to wait any longer!”
Slowly, go slowly. Give her time, Antonio thought, controlling himself in anticipation of his next move.
Nombre de Dios! I know she’s not lain with anyone in the last six months, but I need to do this right—and do it now—or I’ll explode! It is time.
Abruptly, he shifted and undid his breeches while straddling Caroline. Unfettered at last, his sex leapt out, full blown—rigid, and inches long and thick.
Caroline’s lids were squeezed tight, or she may have been frightened by the immensity of his endowment—hot blooded and pulsing with a will of its own.
Ready to oblige, Antonio pulled Caroline’s legs up around his hips. Smiling, he grasped his engorged flesh in one hand and stroked the sensitive tip of his cock over the skin of her bare belly. A drop of clear fluid oozed from the tiny slit in his penis’s velvet head.
He realized he was trembling. Caramba! I need to take her this minute.
Antonio gritted his teeth. Probing her nether lips with his sex, he found the heated entrance and braced himself. He circled the hot entrance with his cock, taunting them both, slicking himself with her fluid to make it easy to plunge inside. He finally leaned forward, grabbed her hips, and slowly pushed his way into her vagina.
He watched Caroline’s forehead pucker, wincing, a tiny murmur of anxiety crossing her face. Caroline paused, about to yell for him to stop, it hurt. Then she blanked out the minor discomfort stretching her lower body and concentrated, instead, on what was to happen next.
If this is the only time I make love with him, let him finish it so I know what it feels like.
Consciously, she relaxed. Her inner muscles had clenched with Antonio’s initial invasion. Another squeak of pain escaped her, but she bit down on her bottom lip and forced herself to silence.
Perspiration beaded Antonio’s brow as he struggled for additional sexual control.
“Easy, Caro,” he gasped, holding back a choking breath. “Soon you’ll have what we both want.”
Antonio pressed his rigid manhood further inside her. Then still a little more. It was going easier now, her body slick with their double lubrication. Unexpectedly, he grunted, surprise echoing through him in the silence and serenity of the grassy meadow. He’d met an obstruction that shouldn’t be there.
“Que Diablo! You-you’re supposed to have been married!”
Caroline yanked at his shoulders, fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt. “I was married, Tonio, but don’t stop now! I want you to finish what you’re doing!”
Control gone haywire, Antonio cursed in Spanish and plunged his engorged sex organ into Caroline with a single powerful thrust.
Caroline experienced a sharp burning and released another tiny yelp. But she soon realized the pain wasn‘t nearly as severe as she expected. Her tension eased. She’d been holding her breath. She felt herself stretched…and filled…by his male part. It wasn’t that bad; it even felt quite wonderful with him lying atop her, inside her.
Antonio had paused, breathing heavily, eyelids slit, leaning on his hands while he watched her reactions. He inched away, to withdraw. He saw she seemed puzzled.
“Tonio? Your Grace, what are you doing? Don’t you want to…?”
“What? Make love to you some more, cara?” He grinned down at her, the black pupils of his eyes looking huge, bottomless. “Si, those are the preliminaries. Now we can enjoy each other.”
“I don’t understand. What else…?”
“Shush.” Antonio stopped her lips with a devouring kiss and started to move inside her, gently, at first, his sex gliding in and out the same way his fingers had.
Ca
roline suddenly felt her body awaken, learning his rhythm. New sensations coursed through her, galloping through her veins. Flames seared her flushed skin. She was ablaze—something she thought impossible. Fever licked the insides of her woman’s core. She waited, on edge, helpless, not sure what was taking place in her body, but not wanting it to stop.
Antonio couldn’t stop now if he wanted to. He eased almost all the way out of her then plunged back inside again and again, straining for completion. He was a man obsessed, looking for release, hers and his.
Moving by instinct alone, Caroline pumped her hips, matching his thrusts. She drew his manhood deeper and deeper into her woman’s core. Something was building beyond extraordinary sensations.
Quickly reaching between their bodies, Antonio pushed on her pressure point with his thumb. And then…and then…a torrent of tremendous stimuli overwhelmed Caroline like an approaching tidal wave. An unexpected storm of such power and emotion claimed her, so earthshaking and stupendous, that she could hardly draw in air to breathe. Her spine arched off the blanket like a taut bow. Her body pulsed and contracted with a pleasure so demanding, so wild and abandoned that she shut her eyes tight, believing she might yet lose consciousness.
“Oohhh, dear God! Tonio!” she exclaimed as her body spasmed around his cock. She’d never felt anything like this before. She writhed in orgasm, buffeted with unparalleled sensations as a whiplash of pleasure surged through her.
When her climax tightened, it squeezed his erection like a vise. The path to fulfillment was flushed with the dew of their liquid passion. Feeling her body milking the semen from him, he threw back his head, thinking to withdraw, but instead, he spewed his seed into her womb. He tensed and shuddered with such a formidable release that he didn’t stop to consider the consequences.
* * * *
Limp, unmoving, they lay silent, their bodies still joined atop the ground cloth. Antonio rolled off of her finally. Caroline changed her position, adjusted the short chemise to cover her from breasts to thighs, and turned to face him, languidly. Slowly, he rose on an elbow and smoothed a finger along her jaw while grinning at her like a schoolboy.
The Reluctant Duke Page 18
