Chapter 11 #2
He pushed her down a little at a time. When she was settled, Chatham inside her, he lifted her up and down gently for a few moments, then stopped. “Now you. Ride me.”
Amelia definitely wanted more of that feeling, and she liked taking control of their pleasure so much that she closed her eyes, lifted her face to the ceiling, and bounced upon his lap with enthusiasm, using his cravat as a rein.
She easily found new angles to increase her own pleasure. Judging by his heavy labored breathing, Chatham was enjoying what she did, as well.
Chatham’s hands continued to stroke her body, tease her breasts, and guide her movements.
“My God, there is no lovelier sight than this,” he whispered. “Well matched, indeed.”
She looked down at Chatham, saw desire burning bright in his eyes, sweat on his brow, and she smiled. Marriage to the earl was going to be better than she dreamed if she could have this with him.
She rose when he put his hands between them. His touch on her sex was tentative at first, but even that small caress speared her pleasure higher. She shuddered, caught firmly by desire.
He grabbed one hip, guiding her steadily, then pushed her down onto him hard.
A moan escaped her as they jolted together so forcefully. She threw her head back and squirmed, repeating the movement herself, eventually finding a rhythm that pulled him in and out of her body in a way she craved move of.
When she looked down at Chatham, his face was flushed red. He shifted beneath her, keeping them joined as he took charge.
The muscles of his shoulders bunched as he moved them together, seeking more.
His movements became more urgent; he guided her, forced her to move faster on his erection.
His fingers dug into the flesh of her derriere, and she enjoyed the intimacy and the mild discomfort of that, too.
She didn’t want to end this madness, but she knew it couldn’t last. This erotic dance with the earl she’d married had but one place to go.
Suddenly, his fingers were on her sex again, flicking and rubbing. And she gasped and pushed against that pressure—then her body shuddered and Amelia cried out in surprise.
She clung to Chatham, pulsing and thrashing as the unexpected pleasure burst over her in waves.
He slammed into her and shouted out.
He jerked several times but eventually became still. His grip around her loosened slowly, by degrees, but Amelia couldn’t quite catch her breath still, and her mind was racing.
Chatham pressed his lips to her cheek, breathing hard, too. “That is how it should have been done the first time,” he whispered. “I promise it always will from now on.”
Amelia buried her face in his shoulder to hide her sudden anguish, wishing it wouldn’t always be that way…because the name her husband had uttered had not been hers.
It had been an endearment meant for the woman she’d replaced—my love. He couldn’t possibly mean Amelia.
She had to respond, though. “That was better for me. I did not know what pleasure meant for a woman. If you had told me that I might feel like this with you, I would have said yes immediately.”
He laughed and hugged her closer. “You might have thought I was lying about my prowess. I would have thought I was exaggerating, too,” he agreed, lips brushing her cheek, her ear. “I never imagined this with you.”
No, of course not, but he had shared this with his first wife, at least in the beginning.
His fingers curled around her skull, drawing her down to rest against his shoulder, and his lips continued to brush across her brow.
Eventually, he eased from her body and put her aside on the settee. Her legs still tangled with his, but she drew herself away, feeling awkward in the aftermath of intimacy. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Well, my lord…”
He turned to face her, frowning. “Amelia? Did I hurt you and not notice?”
“Oh no, but feeling a little awkwardness is natural, isn’t it? Now that we are done and in the light of day.”
She had never been naked around anyone but a maid or her mother.
He swept her hair behind her shoulder, his eyes searching hers. “Such encounters do not have to end abruptly between us or be awkward. We will be married for a long time. Your comfort is important to me.”
Amelia bit her lip but then nodded. “I will get used to this, I promise.”
“You don’t have to get used to it. If you are not comfortable, though, I need to know immediately.”
She studied him, let her eyes sweep over his nakedness. She felt a twinge between her legs that had everything to do with desire. She relaxed and sat back again. “Give me time to adjust to being like this with you.”
“All the years you need,” he promised. He rose, kicked off his lower garments and, naked as the day he was born, strode toward the dressing screen.
Amelia’s breath caught again when he returned, holding his robe for her to put on.
She stood and let him dress her in it and sat down again at his urging.
She was intrigued and aroused by their nakedness, though. Nothing had prepared her for the sight of a nude man, strutting around his bedchamber as if it was completely natural.
She couldn’t look away from his body, and he noticed.
His member was softer now but seemed to thicken and move under her gaze.
Her eyes flew to his, and he smiled. “It has a mind of its own, but I think you need time to recover your strength before we are intimate again.”
Amelia’s breath shuddered out of her, and she might have argued for more immediately had a knock not sounded on their door.
Chatham sighed. “What is it?”
“Forgive the interruption. His Grace wishes to speak with you urgently,” the butler, Mr. Brown, called out.
Amelia stood, embarrassed as she snatched up her discarded clothing. Her gown was horribly wrinkled, and she would need another before anyone saw her. “One moment,” she called.
“Forgive me, but His Grace only wishes to speak with his son,” Brown added, sounding aggrieved by the distinction he was forced to make.
Amelia was relieved, though. She would need time to recover her composure.
Chatham plucked the gown from her fingers and tossed it to the floor again. He tried to pull her into his arms. “Tell him we are busy.”
“I am told to say, ‘Now’.”
Amelia put her hand on Chatham’s chest and pushed him back. “You should go to your father. Besides, I need some time to repair myself after…”
Chatham’s smile turned distinctively smug. He held her against him and planted another hungry kiss on her lips. They grappled for a moment, caught by a flurry of renewed desire brought on no doubt by their state of undress, until the knock came again, and louder.
Chatham cursed and drew back. “Just when things were about to get interesting again.”
“There could be plenty of time for interesting later tonight,” she promised, hoping that might be true.
“Every night if I have my way, my delectable wife,” he said, raising her hand to his lips and dropping a kiss on her wedding band.
Then he rushed about, throwing on his clothes and tossing hers onto the bed as he found them. It was fascinating, watching him make himself presentable again.
When he was finally done, he bowed to her and swept out of the room—as immaculate as ever.
Amelia subsided onto the settee, where she’d just been ravaged, and hugged his robe and the lingering pleasure tighter around her body. For all his talk about mutual respect and companionship, Amelia had married a surprisingly passionate man.
She might not have his whole attention yet, but she would one day soon.
She would not deny that her desires were well satisfied so far, and Chatham hinted there could be more pleasures to explore.
He might never want her heart, but her body—at least—was definitely wanted in his arms, no matter the time.