Chapter 21 #2
Charlotte’s pulse stumbled. “Another matter?”
His eyes darkened with unmistakable heat. “The consummation.”
The word sent a wave of nervousness through her entire body.
Consummation?
Charlotte lowered her gaze instinctively, suddenly very aware of how close they stood and how alone they truly were.
Though Victor had kissed her many times and touched her with scandalous tenderness before, this felt entirely different now.
Tonight there were no pretenses, no misunderstandings, and no excuses to hide behind. He was her husband.
And she belonged in his arms now.
“Very well,” she said softly, though her voice betrayed her nerves.
Victor’s arrogant smirk appeared instantly. “You sound as though you are marching toward duty.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes despite the heat rising into her cheeks. “You are exceedingly smug for a man whose wife may yet throw something at him.”
“I should like to see you try.”
She hated how handsome he looked when teasing her.
The loosened collar of his shirt exposed the strong line of his throat. Charlotte found herself staring again before quickly forcing her gaze away. Unfortunately, Victor noticed immediately.
“You are doing it again,” he murmured.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me as though you wish to kiss me.”
Charlotte nearly combusted on the spot. “I am doing no such thing.”
His low chuckle curled through her like warm honey. “Liar.”
Before she could think of a retort, Victor stepped behind her. Charlotte felt his fingers slide carefully to the laces of her wedding gown. Her breath caught instantly as his touch moved slowly, deliberately, loosening each ribbon one by one.
“You are trembling,” he observed quietly.
“You make me nervous.”
“I know,” he whispered in her ear.
The dress loosened gradually around her body until Victor finally eased the heavy fabric from her shoulders. The gown slipped softly to the floor, leaving Charlotte standing in only her pale shift. Cool air brushed against her skin, and suddenly she felt terribly exposed beneath his gaze.
Victor looked at her with slow appreciation that made heat flood her entire body.
“My Duchess,” he murmured roughly, “you are beautiful.”
Charlotte could scarcely breathe.
Then Victor reached for his own clothing. Charlotte watched nervously as he removed his coat and waistcoat before slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt. Her eyes widened slightly as the fabric parted and revealed warm skin stretched over firm muscle. She had never seen a man bare-chested before.
Good heavens.
Her gaze travelled helplessly over his broad shoulders, strong arms, and the defined planes of his abdomen. He looked powerful and masculine and entirely too handsome for her peace of mind.
Victor caught her staring and smirked. “You may continue admiring me if you wish.”
Charlotte flushed scarlet. “You are unbearable.”
“And yet you keep looking.”
She immediately looked away, which only made him laugh softly again.
Victor crossed toward her and gently swept her up into his arms before she could protest. Charlotte gave a startled gasp as he carried her toward the bed with infuriating ease.
He placed her carefully atop the soft coverlet, his expression surprisingly tender despite the wickedness dancing in his eyes.
“Relax,” he murmured. “You are wound tighter than a violin string.”
“How can I possibly relax?”
“I shall assist you.”
Charlotte blinked in confusion. “Assist me how?”
“Like this,” he said as he settled kisses lightly on her shoulders.
His hands began moving slowly at her sides, and Charlotte nearly melted immediately.
“Oh.”
Victor smiled faintly. “Exactly.”
His touch remained gentle but firm as he worked carefully along her body, his thumbs rubbing over her rosy peaks, taut against the fabric of her shift.
Charlotte let out a soft sigh before she could stop herself. Heat spread beneath his fingertips wherever he touched her, making her feel strangely lightheaded.
“Too much?” he asked quietly.
“No,” she breathed. “It feels… nice.”
“Nice?” He sounded offended. “I am devastatingly skilled at this, Duchess.”
Despite herself, Charlotte laughed softly.
Victor’s hands moved lower, slowly massaging along the tops of her thighs with patient care.
Every touch sent warmth spiralling through her body.
Charlotte had grown so accustomed to seeing Victor as a charming rogue that moments like these still caught her unawares.
Beneath all the arrogance and teasing existed a man capable of quiet tenderness.
Victor’s fingers slid down to her center, pressing careful circles through the thin fabric of her shift.
Charlotte shivered beneath his touch. Her skin felt unbearably sensitive, every nerve awakened by the heat of his hands.
Charlotte smiled faintly before another soft sound escaped her. Fire spread through her veins beneath every slow stroke of his fingers.
“Do you like that?” he asked quietly.
Charlotte could barely think clearly enough to answer. “Yes.”
“Good. Say, I like that, Victor.”
Charlotte gasped. His command was firm, and she wanted nothing more than to obey.
“I like that, Victor,” she moaned.
He groaned in approval and continued to massage her folds.
Charlotte’s breathing became uneven as warmth pooled low within her stomach.
Victor looked entirely too pleased by her reaction.
“You are blushing again,” he observed.
“You keep touching me in a way that makes me heated,” she breathed out the words.
“I am your husband. I intend to continue until I am satisfied,” he said.
The reminder sent another rush of desire through her body.
Charlotte forced herself to meet his gaze, though it proved difficult when he looked at her with such dangerous intensity.
“You enjoy teasing me far too much.”
“You enjoy it too, Duchess,” moaned.
“Oh, oh Victor,” she wiggled under his touch. Her body trembled as she released. The sensation spread through every limb. Her bosom heaved up and down.
“Enough with this. I must have you,” Victor growled. With those words, he tore her shift down the middle with a dangerous hunger.
Charlotte gasped at his intensity, but she did not stop him. He hovered over her. His gaze drank in her bare body before him.
“You are very beautiful,” he moaned. “I must have you now.”
“Then take what is yours,” she said.
Before she could speak further, he stood up and removed the rest of his clothing. Charlotte’s breath caught sharply as she looked at him. His muscular thighs and a thick staff between them.
“I shall claim what is mine,” he said.
Then he climbed on top of her. Heat exploded beneath his touch, startling in its intensity. She felt the tip of his shaft enter her.
Victor immediately stilled. “Too far?”
“No,” she whispered quickly, surprising herself most of all.
His eyes darkened instantly, and he continued to slowly slide inside of her. Her eyes met his as they locked onto each other.
Charlotte’s heart pounded wildly now as he resumed the slow entering of her domain.
Every inch of him left her feeling pleasant beneath his touch. She felt alive in a way she never had before, thrillingly aware of every inch of her body.
Victor watched her carefully throughout it all. “Tell me what you like.”
“I do not know,” she admitted breathlessly. “I have never… this is all new to me.”
His expression softened unexpectedly. “Then I shall teach you… slowly.”
The tenderness in his voice nearly undid her.
Charlotte realized, suddenly that she no longer felt frightened. Nervous, yes. Breathless certainly. But not afraid. Desire had replaced fear entirely now, curling warmly through her body whenever Victor touched her.
Because he is my husband. Because I want this.
Victor slowly pivoted his hips, swaying back and forth. His mouth covered hers in a hungry kiss.
Charlotte moaned into his mouth. The feeling of him inside of her thrilled her to the core. The sensation overwhelming her into an abyss of ecstasy that threatened to drown all her senses.
“There,” he moaned. “That's it. I feel you. I claim you.”
Charlotte looked up at him with flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. “I am yours.”
His mouth curved into a wicked smile. “Say it again.”
“I am yours, Victor,” she moaned.
The words set him off as he began to move faster. Her breasts bounced from the intensity. His hand cupped one of them and lightly pinched her rosy peaks.
“Oh, yes, yes…” she moaned loudly, surprising herself.
Then he bent down and kissed her again, slow and deep and devastatingly patient. Charlotte melted beneath him instantly, her fingers clutching helplessly at his back as warmth and longing swept through her entirely.
The world outside the bedchamber seemed impossibly far away now.
All Charlotte could feel was Victor’s touch, Victor’s voice, and the dangerous fire he awakened inside her with every lingering kiss.
“You have driven me to madness,” he said.
Then he began to move fast again. The bed pounded against the wall as he took her, claimed her with a hunger.
Charlotte felt the pulsing deep within her rise again. “I… I shall release. I cannot stop.”
“I want you to,” he said.
She tensed up and clawed at his back. Her body shivered and unleashed.
Charlotte felt Victor tense up as his groans echoed off the walls. Then he removed himself from her and spilled his seed on the bed.
She stared at him.
Was that supposed to happen?