Chapter Thirty
The sunset filtered in from their bedchamber window, filling the room with the fiery hue that matched the flush radiating from Matthew’s cheeks.
Jasmine dipped her tongue into his mouth, tasting the spicy tang of cigar smoke and brandy.
She was on fire for him. Needing him like she needed air, she kept her mouth locked to his as they stumbled into the room.
Matthew kicked the door closed behind him.
He was half-nude already, having lost his jacket and cravat in the carriage and his shirt in the hall.
She raked the tips of her fingernails down his back, delighting in his shiver.
He separated from her long enough to rid himself of his boots, then lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed.
He turned her away from him and bent her over the mattress.
She held onto the crimson silk bedcovers while he deftly unbuttoned her dress.
With steady tugs, her corset loosened, and a rush of air entered her lungs.
The palms of his hands brushed over the sides of her breasts as he pushed both garments down to pool at her ankles.
He lifted her chemise by the hem, exposing her bottom.
He rubbed his hand between her legs, then dipped his fingertip into her core. She moaned and pressed back into his touch. A breathless sob escaped her.
“You’re already wet for me, mi amor.” His voice deepened. “I’m tempted to take you like this.”
He turned her to face him once more, and lifted her chemise over her head, baring her to him. The air pebbled her nipples, and he bent to take one into his mouth.
“I love how you taste.” He licked her other breast with the tip of his tongue. “I love everything about you.”
He pulled her to him, and his hands traveled everywhere—mapping her body, gripping her breasts, tugging her hips into his.
He lifted her onto the bed, then divested himself of the rest of his clothes.
She marveled at the firm muscles of his shoulders, the fine dusting of hair covering his chest, and the intensity of his gaze on hers.
He climbed into the bed and settled between her legs, but remained upright on his knees.
She lay back, stretched out to give him a better view.
Lifting her hips, she ground against him, gliding her slick skin over him.
She pressed into him right where she needed him.
Their bodies were close enough he could have slid into her—but he held back.
“Matthew,” she whined. “Touch me.”
“Patience,” he murmured. “There are so many things I want to do to you, I don’t know where to begin.”
“Start by being inside of me.” It was agony to have him so close and be empty. “Please do something.”
“I’m trying to decide.” He pulled his hips back, then bent over her.
He left a scorching trail of kisses down her throat until she whimpered.
“I want to make love to you.” He nipped at her collarbone.
“I want you bound beneath me—tied up so I can tease you for hours. Another part of me wants to flip you onto your belly, lift your hips, and take you hard until you scream for me—and blazes—I want you so badly.” He kissed her again, with forceful strokes of his tongue, losing control with every word. “I don’t know if I can be gentle.”
“Don’t be.” She gripped his shaft firmly in her hand and touched him how he had taught her.
“Be gentle with me later. I’m your wife—” she gasped as he claimed her lips in a fierce kiss.
In between breaths she demanded, “Touch me however you like, as rough as you want.” She nipped at his lower lip, then repeated his words back to him.
“Pull my hair, dig your fingernails into my skin. I can take it.”
He laced his hands through her hair and tugged her head back, exposing the length of her throat to him.
“I can do whatever I want to you…?” he whispered. “Anything?”
“I’ll stop you if it’s too much.” She whispered in his ear, “Show me who you are, Matthew.”
“All right, wife.” His jaw tensed. “I want you blindfolded, with your wrists tied to our bedpost.”
Jasmine paused and raised an eyebrow. “Now you don’t want me to see you?”
“You’ve seen me.” A primal spark glinted in his eyes. “This time, I want you to feel.”
He moved to the nightstand and removed a long black sash, and what she imagined was the same blindfold she had once tied on him.
Without hesitation, she sat up and turned around.
She gathered her hair in her hands and closed her eyes—welcoming the darkness before he slid the cloth over her.
Pure blackness obscured her vision. As it did, other senses came into focus.
The forest scent of Matthew’s pomade strengthened.
The touch of his fingertips through her hair.
Cool air teased her bare breasts. Silk surrounded her—on the bedsheets underneath her, the blindfold over her eyes, and the whisper of Matthew’s lips on her wrist. Tight pressure closed around one wrist, and then the other—enough to hold, but not to hurt.
“Too tight?” he asked.
“Not at all.”
She allowed him to lay her down, then eased her arms up above her head. With his fingertips he positioned her in the place he wanted her and gave a low, pleased purr.
“You’re magnificent,” he whispered. “You’re going to love this.”
His warm breath ghosted across her neck, down to her collar, and she moaned as his mouth closed hard on her shoulder and he sucked. His teeth grazed her, sending a rush of heat to the spot. He pulled away, and she heard the smirk in his voice.
“I like how that looks.” He moved to the other shoulder and repeated the motion. “These are just for us to see.”
He trailed his tongue over the curve of her breasts, and took one peak into his mouth. He kept his tongue firm on one nipple while his fingernail scraped the other, causing her toes to curl. Pulling against her bindings, she tried to encourage him closer, and he rewarded her with more pressure.
“With more time, I could make you climax from this alone,” he breathed. “But I’m impatient, and I know you’re aching.”
Without warning, Matthew placed two fingers deep inside of her and flicked his thumb over the peak of her sex. He had scarcely touched her before she reached her first climax. She cried out and fractured around his fingers, but he didn’t stop.
“That’s one,” he growled. “Let’s get you another.”
He lifted her legs over his shoulders and licked her center—tongue circling her perfectly.
“Yes,” she moaned and arched into his mouth. “Like that—with your fingers inside—heavens, yes. Harder.”
As his fingers and tongue moved together, the only words on her lips were yes, please, and more.
She surrendered to him, trusting him as he held her down and devoured her.
With every swipe of his tongue and nip of his teeth, he tested her boundaries and found none.
He knew when to pull back, when to advance, and with every touch he mastered her body as one would a fine instrument.
Every climax he tore from her thrust her into the next until pleasure overtook her very being.
With every sigh and broken sob she sang for him, and he kept count.
“Five, and six. Well done, love.” He nipped at the inside of her thigh. “Are you ready for a break?”
Shaking and overstimulated, she had enough sense left to consider the question.
She didn’t need a break, but wanted a change of pace.
Matthew would spend the entire night pleasing her if she let him, but she wanted to please him, too.
Nothing was taboo in their bed, and if he could tease her, certainly she could tease him.
“Can I kiss you like that too? Will you teach me?”
He made a guttural sound, a half grunt-half choke. “Yes.”
The bedcovers rustled under them as he removed her blindfold. Night had fallen completely. In the moonlight, a flush-cheeked Adonis knelt before her. He released her bindings from the bedpost and then massaged her wrists.
Brushing the pad of his thumb over her lips, he said wickedly, “Suck me into your mouth. Kiss me as if you’re taking me into your body. Roll your tongue the way I like.”
She opened for him, and he pressed his thumb onto her tongue. She sucked and licked him, experimenting with pressure, swirling her tongue. His eyes darkened, and his thumb left her mouth with a pop. He sat back against the headboard and grinned.
“Now show me what you’ve learned.”
She knelt between his knees and kissed her way down his neck and chest. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she touched the tip of her tongue to his erection. He tasted of salt and musk, and she sucked him into her mouth. He groaned and gathered her hair in his hands, easing her head forward.
“How deep can you take me?”
With her eyes locked on his, she opened her mouth wide and took him to the back of her throat. Her eyes watered, and she pulled back, but she tried again. She couldn’t take him far at all, but it didn’t matter. His grip on her tightened, and he growled, “So good, Jasmine.”
Soon, she understood the desire of holding him down and having her way with him, loved the rush of power that came with every hiss of breath from Matthew’s lips.
Even on her knees, she could bring him to his.
He allowed her to do as she pleased, and he talked filthy—of how he liked how her tongue looked, how lovely her mouth felt, couldn’t wait to take her just like that—and she couldn’t wait either.
“Do it,” she pleaded.
He rolled her onto her back and lifted her legs high on his sides. He gave her seconds to adjust before he poised himself at her entrance.
“Tell me you love me,” he urged.
She cupped his face in her hands and whispered against his lips, “I love you.”
And he thrust inside her.
Deliciously full, she grabbed his back to pull him in deeper. He choked out a gasp, pulled out fully, and pushed back in. She wrapped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through his coarse curls, rocking with him while he ravished her.
As if they were dancing, she allowed him to take the lead, letting him love her the way he wanted.
He claimed her body and commanded her to talk—to tell him how it felt.
And yes—yes—she liked it when he had her on her knees, sliding into her from behind.
When he pulled her hair just enough, his firm grip digging into her hips, and his ruthless pursuit of her pleasure.
He had her in ways she didn’t know were possible—didn’t know her body could bend like that.
If she had a limit, they didn’t find it as he brought her from peak to shuddering peak.
And then he laid her down and gently rocked against her.
The desperation subsided, and she held him close to her heart.
With soft, slow kisses, he worshipped her with tender touches and whispers of how he loved her, how he was lucky—so unbelievably lucky—to have her as his wife.
She told him how she was made for him and how much she loved him.
They made love until the sun rose, until she begged him for mercy.
“I know you’re spent,” he whispered, thrusting slowly inside of her. His fingertip circled her oversensitive nerves and she sobbed. “You have one more in you… give it to me.”
As he wrenched every drop of pleasure from her, she tightened around him.
With another jerk of his hips, he spilled inside her, shuddering with his release.
He lingered above her on his elbows and kissed her until he softened and separated from her.
The warmth of his body left hers for a moment before settling next to her.
Exhausted and trembling, Jasmine mustered enough energy to rest her head against Matthew’s chest. His rapid heartbeat thumped under her ear, as if beating only for her.
She had the absurd notion of thanking him, and a laugh bubbled out of her. “We are going to have so much fun.”
A half-laugh rumbled from his chest, and he sighed, drawing her closer. He pressed a kiss to her sweat-soaked brow. “You don’t know the half of it.”
After a few hours of sleep, she would be up for learning.
As she opened her mouth to say so, a sigh left his lips.
His arms slackened around her, and she smiled at her husband—fast asleep.
His breathing deepened, and his face relaxed into a carefree expression that warmed her heart.
She nestled into him and closed her eyes.
And right then, she didn’t want to be anywhere in the world other than where she was, falling asleep in Matthew’s arms.
Like married couples did.