Chapter 13 #2
To Rose’s excitement and rising relief, Dorian began moving upon her very surely, his thick, smooth shaft sliding easily within her wetness and the swirling of his hips rubbing deliciously.
Yes, of course he knew exactly what she needed…
At each small withdrawal, Rose only wanted him deeper, closer.
She clasped tightly at his back and hips with hands and thighs as if to hold him there.
Dorian’s kisses were deep and the sofa was soon shaking beneath them, His tongue sometimes mimicked the thrusting of his organ, and then the contact of their lips would be briefly broken by the mingled rhythmic groans of deep male pleasure and Rose’s lighter-pitched but no less heartfelt gasps.
Eventually, it was on the verge of happening again, whatever it was that Dorian did so deep inside her that made Rose melt with such impossible pleasure. As the first spasm threatened, Rose buried her face in his neck, needing this so badly and yet simultaneously overwhelmed.
When the second peak hit and flowed through her, she cried out and bit at Dorian’s shoulder, her sensations intensified and extended by the shaft throbbing in her quivering slit.
Dorian rammed in firmly again and again, his own loud groans overlaying Rose’s whimpering sighs until they both came to damp, sticky, satisfied stillness.
Lying there in silence as heartbeats slowed and thought returned, Rose luxuriated in the warmth that seemed to permeate every part of her body. So that was what they were meant to have done on their wedding night, was it? No wonder Josephine said that marriage was better than any romance novel.
She felt Dorian prop himself up on his forearms although the rest of their bodies remained connected. When she opened her eyes again, he was looking at her with a smile that seemed different, more carefree than usual.
“Better now?” he asked, the fingers of one of his hands playing with her lengths of long blonde hair.
“That felt wonderful,” Rose told him sincerely. “You should have told me it was like that at the start.”
“Should I?” he asked reflectively, as though asking himself the question too. “Would you have believed me? Would you have let me show you?”
Rose hesitated, feeling slightly shy, if it was possibly to feel shy when lying naked underneath a man with whom you had just performed such intimate acts.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Well, tonight I intend to show you everything,” he told her with a grin. “I hope you’re not feeling tired.”
In reply, Rose pulled down his head to hers and kissed him with resurgent desire.
In the morning, Rose awoke in a tangle of bedsheets and blankets across the Duke of Ravenhill’s very large bed of carved oak. She remembered being carried there in the duke’s arms from the couch in his studio after he had extinguished the many candles.
Dorian was still beside her now, and Rose felt exquisitely conscious of his warm weight on the bed and even the beating of his heart where her shoulder pressed against his chest. She smiled to herself and breathed in the scent of him, butterflies fluttering in her stomach as every embrace of the previous night flooded back to her.
“Are you going to open your eyes?” rumbled her husband’s good-humored voice. “Or are you pretending to be asleep to avoid my further attentions this morning? Has my introduction to sexual congress worn you out already?”
Rose laughed with him and opened her eyes, rolling over and turning into Dorian’s arms.
“I have no wish to avoid anything,” she assured him. “Every time you touch me, it feels…wonderful.”
How many times had they coupled last night? Rose could not count. The hours of darkness were a blur of Dorian’s hands, mouth and questing organ, her husband ravishing her in every mode and position that brought them both pleasure.
Rose’s cheeks flushed as she remembered once waking in the night to find her hand had made its own way to his swelling shaft.
Wakened and deeply roused by her touch, Dorian had arranged her on his bed on all fours and then mounted her wordlessly from behind.
Kisses had covered Rose’s back and then his teeth had gently bitten at her neck as he pumped and strained.
That moment was like the completion of whatever had begun between them on the night of their fateful encounter in Ashbourne Castle’s gardens. This expression of unrestrained animal lust was where that inadvertent kiss had been leading them ever since.
Rose had cried out her joy and acceptance as Dorian almost roared with triumphant pleasure.
He held Rose’s hips firmly to him, his manhood throbbing as he filled her again with what he had explained was his seed.
It felt so right. Dorian might be a wolf, but Rose was his mate, a she-wolf, and the future mother of his offspring.
“Your blushes become you,” said Dorian now, kissing Rose’s lips. “Perhaps I must make you blush when you awaken every morning so that I may enjoy them.”
Rose murmured his name, sensing yet again that tension of desire stirring in his body, and her own.
“I shall order breakfast to be brought up here today,” he then announced, as he lowered his head and began to plant slow kisses on the upper slopes of Rose’s breasts. “We shall not dress before luncheon.”
She gasped loudly and sat up abruptly as an awful thought occurred to her, instinctively covering her breasts with her hands and then feeling foolish for doing so.
“The servants will know that I am here, Dorian, and that I spent the night with you!” Rose said with alarm. “Oh my, what will they say about my clothes? And the state of the bedding? What will I do?”
Her outburst prompted Dorian to burst into laughter as he drew her back under the sheets and stroked her hair soothingly.
“I am your husband, Rose. You are meant to be in my bed. In fact, I suspect the only shock in the servants’ hall is that you have been sleeping apart from me until now. Given your beauty, I must have acquired quite a reputation for self-restraint.”
It was true, Rose realized. No one had any right or reason to object to her being here with Dorian, even completely naked…
“It is so strange,” she whispered.
“Society is mad,” Dorian agreed with a sigh.
“If I lay with any other woman, we’d have to observe absolute discretion or risk the ton’s wrath, especially against my bedmate.
Yet with my wife, the same act is approved by both the church and the law.
If I got another woman with child, God forbid, it would be a scandal.
Yet once you are with child, we will be congratulated. ”
Rose did not want to hear about any other women in Dorian’s bed. She certainly could not bear the thought of any other woman carrying his child. She deliberately ignored those words and focused only on what concerned the two of them.
“Do you think it will happen quickly?” Rose asked, touching her own belly. “I hope it will.”
“It is probably best that I take you every day, to be sure,” he declared solemnly, but with a twinkle in his eye, one of his hands reaching down to stroke her thigh and then perhaps ascertain her readiness for further play. “Perhaps several times each day…”
With a welcoming smile, Rose wrapped her legs around Dorian’s waist as he rolled above her.