Chapter 32
Bridget fought to maintain her composure, even as her blood roared in her ears and her body warmed in anticipation of the coming consummation. Lewis appeared eager, striding quickly as if impatient to continue. She affected him as much as he affected her.
They hastily reached the bedchamber, lit by the midday sunlight steaming through the window.
Bridget’s breath quickened, as her eyes roamed over the massive bed with its gold and scarlet bedding.
She had never been in this room before and seeing it for the first time was like the sun dawning after weeks of dreary rain and overcast skies.
Lewis closed the door behind him. “Now,” he purred. “Shall we?”
She scarcely knew what he meant, but the anticipation of this new kind of pleasure set her body ablaze with need. “Yes,” Bridget breathed. “Yes, I am ready.”
“You shall have it.”
Lewis drew her into his arms with such force that all air fled from her lungs.
He held her flush against his chest. Her hands rose instinctively and grasped the lapel of his jacket.
Then, he dipped his head and pressed his lips hard against hers.
Bridget moaned into his mouth and kissed him back.
Lewis filled all her senses. He tasted of honey cakes and coffee, and he smelled of Bay Rum cologne and something masculine and woodsy.
His touch was hot and strong, and Bridget marveled that she had lived an entire life without this newfound and glorious pleasure.
When Lewis broke the kiss, a small and wanting whimper escaped from between Bridget’s lips. “Please,” she whispered. “More, please.”
“More? What would you like more of?” he asked.
Bridget’s throat was dry.
He placed a kiss on her jaw. “This?”
Her breath hitched. “Yes.”
Next, Lewis kissed her throat. “Or this?”
Two kisses to the tops of her breasts, and Bridget’s back arched, drawing herself as near to him as she could. Warmth bloomed in her core, and she pressed her thighs tightly together, trying to build the growing pleasure like how Lewis always did with his talented fingers.
He ravished her with kisses until she was shaking with desire.
Her breath came in high-pitched, incoherent moans.
Once, Bridget had imagined that she would do this elegantly, that she would be a siren who enchanted her husband with unparalleled feminine grace.
His lips shattered that fantasy. She was helpless beside him, clinging desperately to his jacket to keep herself steady.
His hands grasped her hair, tearing the pins from it, so the locks fell in sweeping curls over Bridget’s shoulders. Lewis ran his hands across her shoulders and over her ribs, down to her hips.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
Bridget swallowed around the lump in her throat. How could this man still speak at all?
She went nearly onto the tips of her toes and brought her mouth to his. Lewis let her kiss him and drew his hands down. He gave her buttocks a firm squeeze, and Bridget bucked against him, gasping.
“Lewis!” she exclaimed.
His hands swept over her thighs. With a single, powerful motion, he drew her thighs up and lifted her off the ground.
Bridget shouted in surprise and wrapped her legs about his waist. His hardness pressed into her stomach.
Bridget’s inner walls pulsed with need, her body craving to be filled with him.
He drew her in for another fevered kiss, pausing only once they reached the bed.
Lewis laid her down, and Bridget shifted back.
She watched with wide eyes as he tore his jacket from his shoulders.
The waistcoat and shirt soon followed. Bridget inhaled sharply, her eyes drinking in the sight of his muscular chest. She had only ever seen a physique like that in art, carved in marble statutes and painted on canvas.
Lewis chuckled. “Now, are you going to undress, or do I need to tear that gown off you?”
Bridget gasped, a hand instinctively rising to the bodice of the dress. She imagined what it would be like if her husband, in a fit of passion, ripped the gown from her shoulders and bared her body to his hungry eyes. “I—I like this gown,” she whispered.
Lewis grinned, his eyes dark. “Then, remove it.”
Bridget’s fingers trembled, made clumsy with anxiety and anticipation mingling together. She feared that her nerves might shatter, as she hastily unfastened the ties. Bridget lifted her hips and pulled the garment away from her body, tossing it onto the floor.
Lewis joined her on the bed, straddling her waist. His hands cupped her breasts through her stays, and Bridget explored the planes of his chest, marveling at the hard muscle.
Her sex ached with a need greater than any she had felt before, and her damp arousal coated the inside of her thighs.
“How badly do you want this?” Lewis asked.
“I want it more than I have ever wanted anything.”
He undid her stays and cast them aside. Bridget’s breath caught, as he cupped her breasts. “The chemise next,” he said.
Bridget shifted back and drew the chemise over her head. Before she could discard it, Lewis seized the thin fabric. He held the garment to his face and inhaled deeply. His eyes remained fixed on Bridget’s face as he rubbed his cheek against the fine material.
“Good girl,” he said. “It is warm and smells like you.”
A rational part of Bridget thought that was an odd thing to say, but her body enjoyed it. Her thighs quivered, and she lay back, entirely naked before him. Bridget’s hands curled into the bedding. She spread her thighs, feeling delightfully exposed to Lewis’s hungry eyes.
Lewis removed his boots and stockings. Then, he unfastened his trousers. Bridget gasped, as she beheld his manhood for the first time. She had no reference for what a man’s member might look like, but his seemed intimidatingly large. “I do not think you will fit,” she whispered.
“I will,” he said, climbing onto the bed. “As long as you are prepared, you will have no difficulty.”
He grasped her thighs and placed a gentle kiss upon her sex. Bridget curled her fingers more tightly into the bedding, her heart thundering in her chest.
“You are already so wet for me,” Lewis purred, his breath coming in warm puffs of air against her sex. “You must be very eager to have your reward, my dear.”
“Yes—” His tongue swept between her folds, and Bridget cried out, startled.
“You taste exquisite,” Lewis said.
Bridget groaned and tossed her head back.
Lewis worked her sex with his tongue, as if he was a man dying of thirst and only she could quench his desire.
She trembled, the familiar pleasure twisting inside her.
Bridget bucked her hips against his mouth, urging him on.
Her thighs quivered, sweat gathered at the small of her back, and Bridget’s entire world fell away except for the sensations coursing through her sex and the need growing within her.
In a sudden wave of feeling, Bridget found her pleasure. White spots obscured her vision, and she blinked them away. Bridget panted against the bedding. She pressed her chin against her collarbone and watched as Lewis lifted his head from between her thighs.
“You must tell me if it hurts,” he said.
Bridget bit her lip and nodded.
Lewis took hold of himself with one hand. He placed the other on her thigh. Bridger tensed instinctively, and he rubbed little circles on the inside of her thigh. “Relax, Bridget,” he murmured.
Bridget inhaled deeply, counted to three, and exhaled. Her eyes remained fixed on Lewis’s face, as he eased himself into her. Bridget’s walls clenched tightly around him, drawing a ragged groan from her husband. She shifted her hips a little, trying to better accommodate him.
The sensation of having him inside her was not painful, but it was strange.
Bridget was full in a way that she had never been before.
Lewis pulled himself out and pushed in again.
And again. She had not taken his full length, but with every thrust, her body adjusted. Pleasure once more grew inside her.
She gasped, and he stilled. “Are you all right?”
“Yes!” Bridget exclaimed. “Please, Lewis!”
He took hold of her thighs with both hands and quickened his pace.
Bridget clung to the bed linens. Her body jolted with every movement of his hips, and they moved together.
She met his every thrust with her rocking hips.
Lewis’s breath was as ragged as her own, and his body tightened, his muscles quivering as frantically as her own.
He desired her as much as she desired him. With that alluring thought, pleasure broke once more over Bridget. She cried out in exquisite agony, her sound nearly lost in Lewis’s own victorious shout. Warmth and dampness filled her as he withdrew from inside her.
Bridget lay on the bed, her chest heaving and her body sated. “That was…that was the most wonderful reward,” she said.
He grinned at her, his eyes alight with mischief. “There will be many more to come, my dear duchess.”