Chapter Eight #2
When Victoria was sufficiently boneless, Rafe had her roll over once more.
The content, slightly dazed look in her eyes was more arousing than he would have believed.
Each stroke of his oil-slicked hands had worked to swipe away at her reservations—so much so that she seemed to care very little that her breasts were bare to him. It was perfect. She was perfect.
Slowly, he began touching her once again, beginning with her upper arms and shoulders before moving to her chest, massaging her petal-soft breasts in smaller and smaller circles, decreasing his pressure until his palms were just a whisper across the aching peaks.
Whether she realized it or not, Victoria arched toward him, seeking more, and he had to bite back a smile.
His fingers trailed down to the sensitive skin of her inner elbows, pressed between her fingers, painted glistening patterns down the graceful curve of her waist, dipped into the dainty hollow of her navel, her well-turned legs, and the ticklish arches of her feet.
Her giggle died when her eyes met the dark hunger in his.
It did not take a great deal of experience for her to recognize what was on his mind.
His restraint as close to snapping as it had ever been, Rafe leaned back to untuck and rip his shirt off over his head.
He allowed her wide eyes a moment to peruse the newly revealed flesh.
It might have been a touch of vanity, but he took deep pleasure in the darkening of her cheeks as her gaze raked him up and down…
freezing only when he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his breeches.
He spent a great deal of time riding whenever his schedule permitted, and he spent at least one day each week at Gentleman Jack’s with Swanleigh working on his boxing.
He knew his body, toned and leanly muscular as it was, was considered quite pleasing.
What really gave him pleasure, however, was witnessing how his wife enjoyed the way he looked.
It couldn’t possibly be more than he liked her body, but it was flattering, nonetheless.
His cock gave a powerful throb, further straining the tortured seams of the garment.
His body screamed for freedom, but he took his time unfastening and sliding his breeches down his legs and kicking them aside, giving Victoria her first unfettered look at a naked man.
She attempted modesty, but her curiosity won out, and he was glad it did.
If the erotic pleasure of having her eyes on him was any indication, then he would enjoy her physical touch a great deal.
Though he ached to cover her body with his—to climb atop her and slake his roiling lust while teaching her the joys of the flesh—he held himself in check.
He laid himself beside her on the thick mattress, inhaling deeply the mingling scents of the oil, Victoria’s flesh, and a whisper of aroused woman.
He was close enough that they shared the heat of their bodies, but he did not touch her except to gently, tenderly, press his lips to hers.
It took several soft passes of his lips on hers, but she eventually relaxed into him, melting once more into him.
Her hand pressed tentatively against the center of his chest, testing its firmness and heat, tangling in the patch of dark hair between his pectoral muscles.
With each pass of their dueling lips and tongues, she grew in boldness.
Her fingernails traced gentle paths through the dusting of dark hair across his chest and tripped over his sensitive nipples.
She explored the hard curves of his shoulders and the swells of his arms. He couldn’t help the soft groan deep in his throat when her hands began trailing lower, spurring on his desire with a vicious whip.
When she leaned into him and pressed the hard tips of her breasts against his chest, Rafe took that as his invitation to move forward.
His hands began another exploration of their own, tugging his wife close around her waist and finally feeling her delectable softness against the length of his body.
His hand slid between them, easily finding her weeping center, the molten core that begged for his touch.
Her inner thighs were already coated with her desire as he stroked her there, gliding his oil-slicked fingers up and through her folds.
Her breathy sigh of relief at the contact drove him further.
Instinct took over, and Rafe listened to her cues, paid attention to each little tremor of her body to discover the pressure and rhythm that she needed.
When her knee rose and she hooked her leg over his hip to grant him unfettered access to her sex, Rafe knew he’d won.
One and then two fingers slid deep inside her tight sheath as his thumb worked the stiff pearl at her apex.
It was a beautiful dance where her hips moved in tandem with his rubbing, thrusting fingers.
Feeling her flutter around him, he knew the time was right to curl his digits inside of her and stroke firmly, demanding her body give itself over to his efforts.
Victoria gasped and mewled, clawing at his shoulders, the nape of his neck, his chest. He hissed in pleasure and pressed his forehead against hers so they were nose-to-nose. The blending of pain and desire was so delicious that it was nearly unbearable.
“Yes. Just like that. Mark me. Claim me as I am claiming you,” he growled.
His cock rose long and hard between them, stiff and reaching for Victoria.
Still, he refused to allow himself relief until she experienced it first—a lady who lay with him was always guaranteed to reach her pinnacle at least once before he did.
Suddenly, Victoria’s entire body tensed.
Her head fell back on a silent scream, her thighs trembled, and her glistening cunny convulsed around his hand as she was rocked by wave after wave of all-consuming pleasure.
Her gasps and whimpers mingled with the obscene sounds of his persistent strokes of her wet flesh.
“God, yes,” Rafe panted, unable to tear his eyes from the plethora of emotions dancing across his wife’s face. “You are glorious.”
Then, it was as if a feral creature had been unleashed inside of his wife.
With a growl of her own, Victoria shoved hard against his shoulders.
Fearing he’d hurt her, Rafe fell back to the mattress.
Rather than clamber away, she pinned him beneath her and climbed to straddle his hips.
Her hair fell in a dark curtain around their faces as she bent to kiss him, her tongue delving deeply into his mouth and battling him for supremacy.
Her pebbled nipples grazed his own with every undulating rub of her body along his.
It was like she wanted to touch all of him at once and didn’t know where to begin.
Holy Hell…
Who was this woman he’d married?
She was wild and breathless with passion, infectious in her ardor. As far as Rafe was concerned, she could do bloody well whatever she pleased with him. He was content to be a specimen at her mercy so long as she continued to look at him like that…to straddle him like that.
Beneath Victoria, her husband lay back with his palms resting on her smooth thighs, caressing the play of her lean muscles as she explored and rocked against him.
Her body still tingled and glowed from whatever he’d done to her, but still, her body ached for more.
She hadn’t known such pleasure was possible—that her body could be so tense and so molten all at the same time.
Every last nerve she’d felt had dissolved in the pink haze of ecstasy exploding from her core. She wanted more; she needed more.
Acting on instinct, she lowered herself atop Blackwood so the underside of his shaft caressed the slick slit of her sex with each pass.
They hissed in unison. She realized there was little grace to her unfamiliar movements, but she liked to think she made up for it in enthusiasm.
At least he allowed her to discover the sensations that pleased her and find a rhythm that stoked her arousal, applying pressure to help guide her only when she struggled.
The sensations began to grow within her once more, rekindling the embers that remained from her earlier release.
It might have been minutes or hours, but his restraint finally snapped.
Blackwood rolled Victoria beneath him. Her heart hammered in her ears as he spread her thighs wide with his knees and his gaze drank in the pink flush extending from her damp hairline down to the ripe buds of her nipples.
He notched the broad head of his cock at her entrance and, before she had time to register what was coming and tense her body, he pressed forward in a single steady motion.
Her hands clamped down onto his shoulders, her nails leaving crescent bites in the flesh as she grappled for purchase.
Blackwood, however, did not stop. He could not—both for his sanity and her well-being.
Both of them were glistening with sweat and panting in short, ragged breaths by the time he was fully seated within her. She took him so well, spreading her legs wider still, asking for more with her dilated eyes and moist, kiss-plumped lips.
Well, he would give the lady what she desired.
Running his palms against her sensitive inner thighs, he pressed them wide. His eyes were riveted to the spot where they were joined, and the slow glide of his member as he claimed her all but drove him mad.
“Do you like it when I fuck you like this, Victoria?” he growled, his eyes leaping to her flushed face. “Do you like my cock inside of you?”
A low groan wilted into a whimper as he increased his pace, his balls gently slapping her rear with every one of his deep thrusts.
“I want your words, wife,” he demanded, insisting that she say the words.
The way she canted her hips for more, every sigh and gasp, the feline way she clawed at him to bring him closer were all affirmative answers for him, but he so desperately wanted to hear the words from her delectable lips. “Do you like my cock?”
“Yes!” she finally cried when he penetrated her deeply and held himself there. “Yes, I like it!”
“And you want more of it?” Rafe asked, giving her nose a teasing graze with his.
“Yes, damn you!” Victoria sobbed. “Please.”
“What is my name?” His voice was barely above a growl.
“Please, Rafe!” she cried out, writhing beneath him.
With that, Rafe’s restraint snapped, and he, too, allowed himself to be wild.
He pounded into her, reveling in the way her body accepted his and embraced his invasion.
She was so sweet, so wet, she felt like liquid silk.
In turn, Victoria welcomed everything he gave her.
It wasn’t long before she began to throb around him, her body beginning its tremors of pleasure once again.
Just three more thrusts and he had her screaming her release beneath him.
She yanked him over that edge along with her, his own orgasm nearly crippling him in its intensity as he spilled himself over and over again against the lips of her womb.
Boneless and sated, they collapsed in exhaustion. Rafe rolled to lie beside his wife, and the two of them stared at the ceiling, chests heaving, hearts pounding, as they reveled in the afterglow.
Victoria’s head swam as she slowly drifted back into her body.
She was somehow drained and incredibly awake at the same time.
How was that possible? How could joy like this exist in a world where anyone ever left their marital beds?
More importantly, how could she survive if this was a taste of what her future held?
Surely, a woman’s body could survive being broken in such a beautiful way only so many times before it gave out.
She listened to the heavy cadence of Blackwood’s breathing beside her.
The fire had died low, casting the room in deep shadows and cocooning them together.
He was so warm beside her; he smelled so good.
Heaviness gradually settled in, beginning with her fingers and toes, working up her limbs to weigh down every bit of her until she found it impossible to keep her eyes open.
It wasn’t long before Victoria’s breathing evened out and she curled against Rafe’s side, fast asleep.
She’d been drained by the emotions of the day and the physical relief of her orgasms. He hoped she would sleep soundly and rest, because she certainly deserved it.
Lord knew Rafe hadn’t expected their first night together to go like that.
She was explosive in the bedroom, and he couldn’t wait to see where that might lead them.
In the warm aftermath of their intercourse, it was impossible not to enjoy his good fortune at marrying a woman who wasn’t missish or painfully reserved.
They could have some fun together, to be sure.
When he was sure Victoria was sound asleep, Rafe slipped from her bed, committed the rosy perfection of her naked body to memory, and gently pulled the coverlet over her.
He gathered his discarded clothing before returning to his own bedchamber.
He’d never stayed a full night with a woman—never allowed himself to be vulnerable enough to sleep beside one.
His marriage was the beginning of a lifetime of compromises, but that was not a concession he was ready to make.