Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Matthew
It seemed an egregious wrong to schedule weddings in the morning and force the groom to wait the entire afternoon for the wedding night, yet that was how things were done.
Once they said goodbye to their guests, there was a flurry of activity as the maids finished setting up the duchess’ rooms to Johanna and his grandmother’s specifications.
More dresses also arrived, which needed to be put away.
Matthew flipped his coin. To his relief, he no longer had to hang around waiting; instead, he flipped it a few more times until he got the direction to stay in, but to visit the billiards room. Micah and Bridget were there, finishing up a game, which Micah appeared to have let Bridget win.
Taking the next turn, Matthew was shocked to find that Micah had certainly not let Bridget win.
Where a girl her age had found someone to teach her billiards, he did not know, but she had enough skill to give his luck a run for its money.
He won by the skin of his teeth and made a mental note to bring some of his friends in to play her.
Watching them be humbled by a girl still in short skirts and braids would be extremely entertaining. Especially since no one but Micah and Charlotte had witnessed his own showing.
By supper, everyone was tired, making it rather quiet. Matthew could not help but steal glances at Johanna during the breaks in conversation. Or when there was conversation.
She had changed into a gown of white silk with a violet pattern repeated over and over across its surface, trimmed in an even darker purple.
The effect with her white-blonde hair and purple eyes was quite fetching.
The tiara had been removed, but the amethysts around her neck and dangling from her ears remained.
Watching her now, knowing that he was finally going to have her all to himself soon… it was very distracting.
He wanted her all to himself.
Which, he supposed, was a good thing to feel about his wife, if a trifle unexpected.
When he’d thought about having a wife, he had not truly thought in terms of desire.
Especially when faced with the debutantes of the ton, none of whom had stirred desire in him when he’d been trying to choose his bride.
Some of them had been quite pretty, but they had not stirred him the way she did.
Though, to be fair, neither had Johanna when he’d met her at Blackstone Abbey. He’d thought she was beautiful, of course, because she was, but he had not felt the way he did now.
Maybe it was the difference of knowing that she was his wife.
Maybe it was because they’d already kissed.
Or maybe there was just a touch of excitement from the experience of simultaneously purchasing her and saving her.
He did enjoy knowing that he’d been her white knight, like something out of Arthurian legend. Perhaps a touch different in circumstances, but he thought the end result was much the same. She’d been saved from a dreadful fate, and he’d been the hero who saved her.
Now he would receive his just reward—her hand in marriage and her in his bed. Really, not a bad deal all around.
Though he could see she was nervous as dinner ended, and he escorted her back to their rooms. Her hand felt light as a feather on his arm, and she kept peeking up at him with consternation. Had she been able to talk to her mother about the wedding night?
Matthew was assailed with sudden worry. He might be her hero, but he’d never bedded a virgin. He knew, theoretically, that it should be about the same as bedding any other woman but that he should take extra care to be gentle. Was there anything else he should do?
Damnation, he should have asked Gregory and Nathanial some questions.
But they had kissed, and it had been exhilarating. He could start there. And his coin would not steer him wrong.
Feeling much assured, Matthew smiled as he halted at her door. Johanna took a deep breath before looking up at him.
“Go,” he said softly, lifting his free hand to tuck his fingers under her chin and lift it so that her mouth was accessible.
He brushed his lips over hers, softly. Gently.
Barely a touch because he did not want to become overcome with desire in the hallway the way he had before. “I will join you shortly.”
Her breath caught, but she nodded, violet eyes wide. Matthew could not help himself. He kissed her again, this time a touch more firmly, but pulled away before the kiss could become more heated.
Opening the door to her room for her, he caught a glimpse of her maid before he shut it behind her. His desire pushed against the strict control he’d held it under, but Matthew forced himself to close the door and walk away.
His valet was waiting for him, and Matthew quickly shucked off his clothing and got into his dressing gown, a splendid affair of plum and gold velvet trimmed with fur. Tucking his coin into one of the deep pockets as his valet exited, taking Matthew’s laundry with him, he paused.
A virgin.
Perhaps it was best to flip for what he should do now before even entering her room. So he could go in with a plan.
Kissing?
Yes, apparently. That made sense.
Straight to bedding from there?
No.
Disappointing, but understandable.
Perhaps her breasts.
Yes.
Then to the bedding?
No.
Ah, his mouth.
Yes.
Matthew grinned at the head side of his coin. He did enjoy using his tongue. It seemed proper he should know how his wife’s pussy tasted before he claimed it.
Very well. That was a good start. Kissing her lips, her breasts, and her pussy, then he would see where his coin wanted him to go from there. Already his blood was heating at the very thought of being able to touch her all over, however he wanted. His bride. His wife.
His cock was certainly ready for her.
Cinching the tie of his robe, he went over to the adjoining door between their rooms and knocked before opening it, to give warning he was coming in.
Two steps in and he paused, arrested by the sight of her in her own dressing gown.
Hers was made of long falls of lavender silk and silver lace that clung to her body.
Her hair had been let out of its coiffure and fell around her in gentle waves.
She stood in the middle of the room, near the bed, with her hands clasped together in front of her.
Nettie, the maid, was already letting herself out of the bedroom door, shutting it firmly behind her and leaving the two of them alone.
Glancing nervously at him, Johanna dropped her gaze almost immediately.
A virgin.
Start with kissing.
Right.
He wanted to kiss her all over.
Johanna
The duke entering her room while she was wearing practically nothing was utterly nerve -racking.
Johanna felt like she could barely breathe as his dark gaze moved over her.
The silky feel of her nightrail and robe against her skin was doing wicked things to her senses.
Even as she shifted slightly in place, she could feel her nipples pebbling against the soft fabric, and she moved her arms to hide them.
“You look beautiful,” the duke said, moving to her again. Despite the hunger in his eyes, there was also gentleness. The same kind of protectiveness she’d seen the night of the auction, which soothed some of her nerves.
As he approached, it felt like her entire body lit up, acutely attuned to his presence. She swayed forward a little, though she could not gather the courage to actually step toward him.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and rallied. “You look very handsome.”
He chuckled, and once again his fingers moved under her chin, tipping her head back in that manner that made her feel both breathless and wildly excited.
“I am glad you think so,” he told her, right before he kissed her.
Johanna felt her whole body shiver as their lips met, her insides clenching in response.
Lifting her hands to his chest, she could feel his heart beating beneath her palm, the soft velvet of his robe gentle against her hand.
It was not just their lips, either; the hot, hard press of his body against the length of hers made her tremble.
His other arm went around her, holding her in place. Holding her so she could not step away.
Not that she wanted to, but something about not being able to made the whole thing more exciting.
His tongue slid into her mouth, dancing with hers, and she kissed him back as best she could.
Heard him—felt him—groan, his hold tightening on her.
The hardness of his body against hers, the feel of his muscles flexing, made her very aware of how vulnerable she was to him…
and rather than feeling afraid, it stirred her excitement, the ache that was growing inside her even further.
It throbbed and pulsed within her, stealing away her breath as much as his kiss did. She leaned against him, as much because she wanted to feel him against her as because she was uncertain her legs would hold her up much longer.
With a groan that was muffled by the fusion of their mouths, he hauled her around, spinning her, and started moving her back.
Toward the bed.
Her heart started to pound in her chest even harder than it already was. It was a wonder it did not pound its way right out of her skin, it was beating so hard.
His hands moved on her, and silk slipped from her shoulders, leaving her in nothing but the silky nightrail.
Johanna shuddered, arching with a gasp as his lips moved from her mouth to her throat.
The thin silk between them meant her nipples rubbed against the velvet of his robe, the soft silk amplifying the sensation and hardening them even further.
They tingled, throbbing, and she pressed her thighs together as her knees went weak.
The grip on her shifted as he moved her back, and she fell slightly, ending up sitting on the bed before him, her thighs spread wide rather than primly together because he was standing between them. He dropped to his knees in front of her, slipping the nightrail from her shoulders.
Johanna whimpered as her breasts were bared to him, even before he kissed the top slope of one. No man had ever seen her like this, and now he was not only seeing her, but touching her, kissing her…
One hand closed around one breast as the other reached behind her, pulling her forward. Gasping as his teeth scraped over her soft flesh, she buried her hands in his dark hair as she held onto his head for dear life. The sensations coursing through her threatened to drown her.
How could one person possibly hold so much sensation and not go mad?
“Oh!” she cried out as his mouth closed around her nipple and sucked, his hand squeezing her other breast, pinching that nipple between his fingers.
It was too much and not enough, all at once.
Her nipples throbbed, her core pulsing in time with them, yet it felt as though there was something more that she needed, that her body craved.
The demand, without knowing what the desire was for, was wildly frustrating.
Her breath caught in her throat as his teeth nibbled on her taut bud, testing her, teasing her. Then his mouth moved to the other breast, his hands switching places so he could continue to caress the breast his mouth was not attending.
It was pure pleasure, yet utter torment as her insides writhed with unfulfilled need. The ache between her legs kept growing, even though he had not touched her there yet.
She was dizzy, coming apart at the seams, yet he kept going. His mouth kept going. Down her quivering stomach, over her skin.
Johanna gasped as he lifted her legs, making her fall back against the bed, staring up at the canopy above her as he lifted the skirt of her nightrail.
The fabric made a silky river across her stomach, and she closed her eyes, covering them with her hands, her face burning hot as she realized he could see everything.
Intimately.
The silky blonde fur over her mound. The soft folds between her legs. The place where she throbbed and ached the most. Could he tell? Did he know?
“Beautiful,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, which elicited a sound she’d never made before.
Everywhere he touched her felt seared to the bone. She tried to close her legs, but he was between them, and his arms moved to curve around them, holding her spread open for him.
“Just relax,” he murmured. “I’m going to make you feel so good, my duchess.”
There was something about the way he called her his duchess that made it feel like so much more than a title.
Not that she had time to ponder what he did mean by it; almost as soon as he said the words, his mouth lowered between her legs.
He was kissing her there. Johanna had not known such a thing was even possible, and she shrieked in combined shock and pleasure as his tongue slid up her center.
Her thighs immediately tried to close, but he was still holding them open, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, forcing her to allow him to taste her.
He began to lick and suckle, making her gasp and writhe for him. It was utterly wicked. Sinful even.
And it felt so very good.
The ache that had been so confusingly insistent now had a focal point.
The itch she hadn’t known how to scratch was now being licked, sucked, and satisfied.
Johanna’s head whipped back and forth as she moaned, her hands pressing down tightly on her eyes as if to hide her shameful response to what he was doing to her.
Although licking her down there had to be shameful as well, yet he apparently had no qualms about it.
The pleasure spiraled higher and higher, his tongue driving her wild, then he sucked on a spot that made her nearly levitate off the bed.
She gasped, her hands flying to hold on to the bedsheet beneath her as she writhed for him, rubbing herself shamelessly against his mouth and tongue as wave after wave of inexpressible ecstasy rolled over her until she was utterly limp.
All that, yet there was still more.
Her mind reeled. He had not even taken her virginity yet.