Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
“Yes, we are. Aren’t we?” Victoria asked, hopefully.
She was afraid to hold on to that hope. Yet, at that moment, there was a strong and warm feeling enveloping her, and she knew that Richard was feeling the same thing.
The door had clicked shut. There was no need to make it a performance, and yet, the feeling remained. With the feeling of being a family still warm in her heart, she also wanted the emotions Richard woke in her.
And he was not going to wait for her to wake up from her reverie.
He pulled her into a tight embrace, his mouth quickly finding hers.
The kiss was hungry and searching. Oh, she’d help him find what he was looking for.
She moaned into the kiss, her hands pulling him closer.
Her fingers caressed his dark hair, intoxicated by his kisses, which tasted of brandy and something else that made it more delicious.
She was tasting him. Yes, him.
A year ago, she would have laughed aloud at the thought. Right now, she was just letting her senses be the judge of things. Their marriage had turned from cold to hot, and she liked it this way.
Richard backed her toward her large bed, not breaking the kiss even as his hands traveled down her body.
It was like he was learning her curves, every inch of her through the layers of silk and lace.
Her heart thundered within her chest as she tried to understand what was going on with her.
She was an independent woman, but now, she could not imagine life without this man—this man who had left her for a year.
Victoria’s hands felt his broad chest before she fumbled with the waistcoat, popping buttons in her haste.
He chuckled appreciatively at her rush, but the laughter died in his throat when her hand reached for the waistband of his breeches.
She was eager to feel more of him, his heat and the unmistakable hard length that showed just how much he desired her.
“Richard,” she breathed, her hand rubbing him through the fabric. He growled, and she could imagine the pleasure she must be giving him.
It was why she had to ask the question, “Why haven’t we—why haven’t we consummated our marriage. Surely, it is long overdue?”
He looked down at her, his breath shaky, as he rasped his reason: “Melody. Because of Melody.”
“How? Why would she be the reason?” she asked, truly confused.
“At the moment, you have taken responsibility for someone else’s child, Victoria. It is not an easy feat. You already barely sleep. You worry about her. If you were to become pregnant, your body would not get the rest it deserves. I don’t want to break you just because of my desires.”
Victoria stared at her husband. She let herself reconcile those thoughtful words with the clear evidence of his desire.
It was practical. It was very much like Richard. Of course, he would think of protecting her. He would think of her comfort. They might still be getting to know each other, but that felt like the truth to her.
“Oh, you are such a frustrating and fascinating man, Richard Weston,” she whispered, smiling softly.
Her body wanted more of him, even though he was skillful with his hands and tongue, but she understood him. He was doing it for her, and she was willing to do anything to please him, too.
“I know what you are feeling,” he said. “I feel it, too. I want you. I have never wanted anyone as much as I do you.”
He proved it by kissing her forehead, her nose, and then her mouth. She sighed softly, her hand still insistently rubbing him through his trousers. He proceeded to kiss her neck.
“I won’t leave you aching, Victoria,” he whispered onto her skin. “I will give you exactly what you want. Over and over.”
Soon, she was completely bare and lying on her bed, a gift and offering to him. He hovered over her, spreading her legs. She gasped. If she did not know any better, he was planning to consummate their marriage.
He nibbled her neck and peppered kisses down her chest. Then, with one quick movement, he took a nipple in his mouth and sucked. It was gentle at first, almost tickling. Then, he increased the suction. It made her squirm, the movement making her core pulse with need.
The moon kept watch as he switched breasts to suckle, licking the tip and laving her breast before sucking once more.
She whimpered, wanting more. Needing more.
As he continued his onslaught, his fingers reached for wet heat and slipped inside.
With his mouth on her breasts and his fingers spreading and filling her, her hips undulated over the bed.
“That’s it. Let go, Victoria. Let go.”
He rubbed her clit in repetitive circles and continued thrusting his fingers in and out until her body shuddered. He kept his promise. She was sated.
Still, she wanted more. For now, it would do.