Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Matthew
The sweet taste of his wife’s pussy could easily become addictive. As could the sound of her gasps. Her moans. Her little noises of surprise. The way she tried to hide when he first lowered his mouth between her thighs.
His cock was throbbing, eager to be inside of her, to hear those noises when wrapped in the slick heat of her body, to feel her coming apart while impaled on his shaft.
Lifting his head from her sweetness, he grinned as he looked up the length of her body. The fall of silk over her stomach did little to hide her breasts, tipped with the pink nubbins of her nipples, and the way her lips were parted as she panted for breath.
Reaching into his pocket, her legs still draped over his shoulders, he gave his coin a quick, small flip.
Not time to bed her yet.
Which was disappointing.
His mouth again?
Apparently yes.
Matthew tucked his coin back into his pocket.
Once more unto the breach.
Johanna
She did not know what she’d expected after the tumultuous pleasure. Her body was still buzzing, but her muscles were completely limp. Closing her eyes, she tried to slow her breathing.
That had been…
There were not words.
Then she felt his hands sliding up her body, her legs still spread wide with his head between them, and she gasped as he gave her another soft lick. His hands closed over her breasts, squeezing, kneading, and her back arched involuntarily, pushing her breasts against his touch.
His tongue parted her center once again, finding that sensitive spot that had sent her reeling.
It throbbed, her toes curling at the sensation, and she cried out as her hands gripped the bedsheet again.
She was so much more sensitive than she had been before; she could not possibly take any more stimulation, yet there was nothing she could do to stop him.
All she could do was cry out and writhe as he used his tongue to drive her to new heights of rapture.
Matthew
The insistent ache in his cock as his wife erupted in passion again was almost painful. Reaching down with one hand, he gave himself a hard squeeze to ease some of the need, moving his hand up and down, though he was not going to let himself come yet.
Not until he was inside her.
He gave the coin another flip.
Bloody hell, really?
He must be missing something.
Ah, yes, fingers.
Very well then.
He still had one hand on her breast, and he gave the soft mound a gentle caress, rolling her nipple between his fingers while she shuddered and moaned.
“Oh, please…” Her voice was soft as a sigh, catching in her throat.
Tucking his coin back into his pocket, Matthew shifted his position, going up higher on his knees so he could get a better view of her as he pressed his fingers to her sweet pussy.
Watching her mouth fall open as he began to slide two of them into her slick softness.
Johanna
Oh, this was…
She mewled, her insides clenching as his fingers pushed inside her.
Inside her.
She could feel him within her, and it was horrifically intimate. Excitingly invasive.
And all the while, she was so sensitive, she could feel tears beginning to slide down her temples into her hair; she could barely stand any more pleasure.
“Please,” she begged again, breathlessly, uselessly.
His fingers did not stop. They stroked. Pushed in deeper.
And his other hand squeezed her breast, caressing, kneading.
His fingers toyed with her nipple. Pinching.
Pulling. Tugging. There was a direct line of sensation straight down to her core where he was now moving his hand back and forth, thrusting his fingers into her while she shuddered around him.
The heel of his hand rubbed against her, his fingers pressing on a spot deep within her.
The sensations roiling through her somehow felt deeper. More encompassing. And Johanna was quite sure she was losing her mind.
Matthew
Surely now…
He slid his fingers from his wife’s virgin pussy, bringing them up to clean them off with his tongue.
The sweet flavor of her already coated the inside of his mouth, but he was correct in thinking he was addicted.
He could not get enough of it; he was enjoying tasting her on his fingers nearly as much as he had at the source.
That was not what he really wanted, though. His cock felt as though it was about to explode if he did not sink inside her immediately.
Digging into his pocket, he gripped his coin tightly.
Surely now…
He flipped it.
Finally.
Johanna
Every ounce of strength had been drained from her body.
She did not have any voice left.
She barely had breath left.
If her husband wished her to move, he would have to lift her limbs for her because she could not possibly.
In fact, she was not certain she would ever be able to get out of this bed again.
Perhaps this was where she would spend her life as his duchess.
Limp and useless from his ministrations on their wedding night.
Had the other duchesses experienced this?
How did they manage to function properly afterward?
A shadow fell across her as her legs shifted, and Johanna’s eyes focused on the man looming over her.
One leg was still on his shoulder, the other sliding down to drape over the edge of the bed.
His dark eyes blazed, hot with passion as he looked down at her.
Johanna whimpered as his hand slid from her thigh up to her ankle.
Turning his head, he kissed the side of her leg, just above her ankle, and she felt it in the marrow of her bones. She was so sensitive, it did not matter where he touched her; her body pulsed in response.
Which was when she realized his dressing gown was gone and he was naked. When had that happened? She had not even noticed it slipping off.
Now she could see his full upper body. His muscular shoulders. The dark hair sprinkled over his chest and down his stomach… though she could not see any lower than that due to her current position. Rubbing her leg, he leaned forward, bending it back toward her.
Something thick and hard nudged at the entrance he’d just been exploring with his fingers.
“Look at me, sweetness,” he ordered in a soft murmur. “Do not close your eyes. Just look at me.”
Johanna felt caught in his gaze as the part of him at her entrance began to push, making her gasp as she opened for him, stretching far wider than she had for his fingers. He leaned forward over her, his demanding gaze boring into her helpless one as he began to slide into her.
He was too big, but she did not have the strength to stop him.
Did not have the breath to tell him.
And she did not want to.
Whatever air she’d managed to breathe in was being pushed out of her by the sensation of him filling her.
Because of their intimately connected gazes, she could see the pleasure that filled his eyes just before he closed them and groaned. His hips moved, thrusting forward, his hands holding her in place so she could not do more than clench around him and gasp as he went deeper inside her.
It hurt, it ached, yet it felt good, too.
She could feel him within her.
And she was so, so, so very glad he was the one who’d purchased her from the auction block.
The idea of another man, a stranger, being inside her like this… She did not know how she would have been able to bear it. He’d saved her in more ways than one.
“Bloody hell.” He groaned, shuddering, his eyes flicking close for just a moment before meeting her gaze again.
The need in them seared her to the bone, and she whimpered as her limbs twitched.
Leaning forward, he pressed the leg on his chest toward her body, the other hanging down beside him, able to feel his hairy thigh against her silky skin. “Your pussy is perfect, sweetness.”
He rocked again, as if to emphasize where he was speaking of, not that Johanna needed much explanation. There did not seem to be a response expected, which was good because she had no idea how to reply to such a brazen statement. How was one supposed to talk to a man who was currently filling her?
All she could do was whimper, which seemed to satisfy him as he thrust forward, deep into her, his body finally coming to rest against hers.
She could feel the coarse hairs surrounding his manhood now rubbing against the sensitive folds of her pussy.
Could feel his shaft so deep inside her, while her muscles clenched and shuddered around him, touching parts of her she did not know could be touched.
When his hands slid up to cover her breasts, she gasped, closing her eyes involuntarily as the sensations pulsed through her. His thumbs rubbed over her nipples as he kneaded her breasts, holding himself in place, as though allowing her to adjust to her new proportions.
Then, finally, he began to move.
It was… indescribable.
The pull of him retreating, the shocking sensations as he thrust back in, his guttural groan vibrating through her.
He moved with slow, sure strokes, making her gasp and shudder every time he buried himself inside her.
His body rubbed against all her sensitive bits, which were almost too raw to bear… yet she must bear it.
She wanted to give him the same pleasure he’d given her.
Wanted him to have whatever he desired from her. From her body. Not just because she was his wife, but because he’d saved her. Because he made her feel… like this.
As he began to move harder, faster, she cried out.
Her fingers curled in the bedsheet, her arms too tired to lift up to reach for him the way she wanted to.
All she could do was lie beneath him, taking his hard thrusts, fighting off the impending rise of sensation.
She could not possibly live through another little explosion… yet she could feel one coming.
“That’s it, sweetness,” he said, encouraging her as his hand moved to cover her hip, his thumb pressing against the terrible, wonderful spot just above where he had impaled her. “Come for me, little violet. Come all over your husband’s cock.”
The rubbing press of his thumb had as much to do with the shocking swell of her pleasure as his words did.
She cried out, unable to stop herself, as he masterfully brought her to the peak and pushed her over it yet again.
The spasms of her body around his… cock made him feel even bigger inside her, and she would be willing to swear he hardened even further as he pumped himself back and forth within her several more times.
His groan, his shudders, as he buried himself inside her and let her muscles work over his length, were as heated as her own. Johanna lay limp, breathless beneath him, watching his jaw clench, then his expression go slack with relief and erotic rapture.
Letting out a shuddering groan, he lowered his head to hers, allowing the leg that had been propped up on his shoulder to slip down.
Even that movement made her shudder and gasp as his body shifted against hers.
Their foreheads pressed together, breath mingling, the feel of his hard body covering hers strangely comforting.
Lips brushed over hers, and Johanna closed her eyes, letting out a sigh into his gentle kiss.
His hands stroked her sides, sending more little tremors through her body, though he was not trying to arouse her again.
She could feel him inside her, shrinking, softening. Even that sensation made her whimper.
By the time he withdrew completely and returned to run a warm, damp cloth between her legs, she was almost asleep. Dimly, she was aware of him cleaning her. Stroking her. Crawling into bed with her and wrapping his body around hers, like she was snuggled into a warm cave.
Perfectly happy, still in awe that her terrible fate had been so perfectly reversed to good fortune, Johanna breathed out a sigh of relief.
The only cloud on the horizon was her mother’s health… especially if she continued to hold on to the delusions she’d confessed to Johanna. But she could not think about that now. Somehow, they would make it through. They always had, and now she was a duchess married to the luckiest man in the ton.
This was going to be the start of a wonderful new life.