Chapter 4 #2
He cupped her nape and returned her kiss. He had never been particularly moved by the connection of lips. Indeed, he preferred the far more visceral act of using his mouth to make his bed partner come or simply sinking deep inside a wet, inviting mouth or cunny. Kissing had never moved him.
Not, at least, until Verity.
Now, he thought he could kiss her for hours.
Perhaps days and never grow bored with it.
Every kiss was somehow new, each soft sound she made a revelation, the taste of her an addiction he was desperate to feed the same way some sought succor in spirits and opium.
His cock could wait because his mouth was busy. His wife was kissing him senseless.
If someone had told him, even a week ago, that he would lose his legendary control and consummate the marriage on his wedding night, he would have laughed.
If anyone had dared to suggest he would be seduced by a virgin whose experience with kissing was likely limited to one man a decade past, he’d have scoffed at the impossibility.
But he wasn’t laughing, and she was fast proving to him that nothing was impossible. Especially not the hold she had over him, as powerful as a sorceress from a fanciful tale. Yes, he was under Verity’s spell, hers to command.
Her lips left his, and she shocked him by stringing a line of kisses along his jaw, where his unshaven stubble had to prickle her lips. Down his neck as he had done to her, her mouth gliding over his rapidly beating pulse, then his Adam’s apple. He ran his fingers through her silken hair.
“If I didn’t know any better, wife, I would say you are attempting to seduce me.”
She smiled and kissed a path over his right pectoral. “Is such a thing possible?”
“With you, yes. God, yes.”
Her lips flitted over him again in the barest whisper of a touch, and he groaned.
“Why were you so determined to wait to consummate our marriage, then?” she asked softly.
“I was trying to take my time. I didn’t want to rush you.”
She kissed lower and his cock twitched. “I am glad you didn’t wait.”
“So am I, angel.”
Her lips continued their perilous trajectory, growing ever nearer to his straining erection. And as much as he wanted nothing more than to sink his cock into her mouth and let her pleasure him, he was keenly aware she was a neophyte and that he was supposed to be the one in control.
How thoroughly she had undone him. It was time for him to return the favor.
Swiftly, he rolled them both until she was on her back and he was atop her. “It’s too soon for us to make love again. Let me please you instead.”
She shifted beneath him, the movement making her nipples graze his chest, her mound brushing against his rigid length. “But I want to please you too.”
“You do, angel,” he promised her. “You do.”
King turned his attention to her breasts and to the silken haven between her thighs.
He took one stiff peak into his mouth, suckling her as he glided his fingers over her mound before delving into the cleft where her clitoris hid.
She was slick, so slick, and hotter than Hades.
He caressed her until she writhed against him, her breathy pants telling him she was close to reaching her pinnacle.
King released her nipple and glanced at her, thinking her unbearably lovely in the steadily growing morning’s light.
Her hair was a wild tangle spread over his pillows, her lush lips parted.
She was all cream and curves, innocence waiting to be further despoiled.
How damned fortunate he was to be the one despoiling.
“How does that feel?” he asked her.
She licked her lips. “Quite lovely.”
He was still learning where she was sensitive.
No two women were entirely the same when it came to such matters, and he wanted to know what pleased Verity best. She was far more forward than he had expected her to be, at ease and comfortable with her body and nudity.
And he was pleasantly surprised by her sensual nature.
He flicked his tongue over her other nipple. “Have you ever made yourself come by touching here?” he queried, stimulating her bud with his fingers.
She was getting swollen and wetter, just what he wanted.
“I… That is to say…” she began, only to trail off, adorably embarrassed.
And he had his answer. His glorious minx had. How delectable she was.
“What do you do for yourself?” he crooned, taking her nipple in his teeth and giving her a gentle tug. “Show me.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.” He blew a stream of hot air over the pink, puckered tip of her breast and withdrew from her inviting cunny.
“King,” she protested, writhing beneath him, her hips chasing his retreating hand.
He chuckled. “Needy little wanton. Let me see. I want to know what pleases you most. I need to learn all your secrets.”
“I don’t know…”
He reached for her hand. “If you’re feeling shy, then use my hand. Guide me. I am your faithful servant, here to please.”
He nuzzled the curve of her breast, gratified when she accepted his suggestion, slowly taking his hand in hers and returning it to the tempting apex of her thighs. Her fingers settled over his, guiding him to her clitoris.
Her breathing was labored. But then, so was his.
There was something unspeakably erotic about Verity showing him how she pleasured herself, this time using his own fingers.
About the two of them working together to make her come.
She increased her pressure, showing him what she liked, spurring him to make his touch fly over her bud faster.
The wet sounds of her cunny filled the silence, and he groaned, unable to help himself.
She was close. He could tell in the way her lashes lowered, the way her breathing grew shallow, the way her lips parted. She was so wonderfully wet. He longed to have a taste, but first, he wanted her to lose herself fully.
His wish was granted when she stiffened beneath their mutual onslaught, her body tensing as her pinnacle washed over her. Verity made a sound of ecstasy that he devoured with his mouth, kissing her as they both prolonged the bliss, until the last wave washed over her.
King rolled them again so that he was on his back and she was astride him. Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils wide and dilated.
Her hands settled on his chest, her countenance relaxed.
He might have ended things there, kissed her softly, pulled the covers around them both, and gone back to sleep, even though his cock was aching.
But he wanted more. Thoughts of all the debauching he had planned for her suddenly consumed him, a demanding demon that would only be assuaged by another orgasm from his magnificent duchess.
“Come here,” he told her, hands on her waist, urging her to move along his body.
Her brows drew together as she followed his lead until she was straddling his chest. “I don’t understand. How shall we make this work?”
“Keep coming closer, angel.” He didn’t stop, gently arranging and guiding her until her cunny was poised directly above him, her scent filling him with a fiery burst of longing. “Now, sit on my face.”
“But…how?”
“I’ll show you.” He grinned, grasping her hips and bringing her glistening pink folds to his mouth.
His first taste of her was every bit as decadent and delicious as it had been the day before. With a groan, he sucked on her clitoris and then laved her with his tongue, alternating between laps and firm licks.
“Oh,” she gasped from above. “Oh my.”
He licked into her, desperate for more. Her thighs clamped on his head, one of her hands landing on the pillow at his side for purchase and the other in his hair. She threaded her fingers through the strands, and she delighted him by riding his face as if she had done so dozens of times before.
He was so roused by having her like this that he could feel himself leaking. Apparently, last night had done nothing to quell the raging need he had for this woman. He was persuaded that, regardless of how often he made love to her, he would still long for her infinitely more.
“King,” she moaned, hips restless, cunny so wet that her juices dribbled down his chin.
What a marvel she was—and an apt pupil. He had wanted to show her the delights of the flesh slowly, over time. He had never dreamed that she would be so eager, so unabashed.
“That’s it, angel,” he crooned into her slick, sweet pussy. “Come on my face. I want to smell you on me all day like an eau de cologne.”
His wicked words seemed to have their intended effect.
In the next instant, she cried out, grinding herself against his face as her thighs went rigid around his head. He didn’t relent, tonguing and sucking her through the second crescendo, starved for her. It wasn’t enough. It never would be.
Breathing heavily, she slid down his chest, her cunny leaving a trail of slick wetness in her wake.
He groaned, wishing he could lap up every last drop.
Wearing her on his skin would please him just as well.
The thought of going about his day whilst catching a hint of her scent at random times was deuced rousing.
“But what about you?” Verity asked softly.
“Me? I shall be fine.”
Withholding his own pleasure could be its own aphrodisiac, he had learned. There was nothing quite like a slow denial to ultimately lead to a powerful, explosive orgasm. But Verity wasn’t happy with his response.
She was frowning. “I want to please you. You made me show you how I tend to myself. Now it’s your turn to show me how you touch yourself. Assuming you do, of course. The gentlemen in the books always do. I believe they call it frigging themselves.”
“Jesus,” he bit out, astounded and intrigued all at once. “What manner of books have you been reading?”
She bit her lip, looking abashed again. “Bawdy books. In secret, of course. I’ve resorted to pilfering my brother’s private shelves. There is a serial journal that he subscribes to in secret, which is especially descriptive…”