Chapter 16
Every party Agatha attended was an experiment in pleasure. If she had thought that Mozart could make her body move, the Duke of Westfort could make her tremble and undulate in a way she’d not known possible.
In libraries, in hidden reading rooms, billiards rooms, salons, music rooms, and copses of trees in gardens, her body had come to know bliss.
It was as if the world was conspiring to get them together and in each other’s arms. For somehow, servants were always shooing people away in hallways once they entered those rooms. No one ever came close to finding them, and the perfect spots were always waiting.
Yes, it truly felt as if it was all magically meant to be.
They always knew when to sneak away at the height of parties, when much champagne and punch had been imbibed, and no one would notice them missing.
This night was no different except that she felt hungrier for him than she’d ever felt. One would have thought that the more she experienced with him, the more satiated she would feel. But it was the opposite.
Each time, she left wanting him anew.
He’d invaded her dreams, and each night, while lying in her bed caressed by cool linen sheets, she envisioned him atop her, caressing her. In her.
Agatha bit her lower lip, eager for him to join her in the small room she’d found towards the back of Westfort’s townhome. Now that they were to wed, she felt a wild sort of freedom. There was no need to hold any part of herself back. And she couldn’t wait to give all of herself to him.
And she felt certain that tonight was the night. For she could not bear another day without being one with him. Perhaps they should have run off to Gretna Green to wed first, but why? So many ladies of the ton tasted the fruit of love before the vows were said. A promise was as good as a wedding.
The party was a tremendous success. People were dancing, eating, drinking, and making merry to their heart’s content.
Their eyes had met and something in his dark gaze had told that this night was going to be special. More. For he whispered where she should go, and when she’d found it, she’d thrilled to see a day bed in which a lady could drape herself to be admired by visitors.
Oh, how she wished to drape herself upon it, to be admired by him.
Hands, his hands, slid about her middle and tugged her back.
She let out a gasp, not of fright, but of anticipation. For she loved his strength. His power. She longed to be overwhelmed by him, devoured by him, made to feel a pleasure so intense she could scarce take it.
He’d awoken her to a part of herself she’d not even known existed. And it belonged to him.
Just as she wished to.
Slowly, tantalizingly, Adam pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the curve of her neck.
She shivered with pleasure, for he knew just what to do to turn her body into melted fire.
That feeling coiled through her.
She slid her hand up and wound it into his hair until he relented, and as she leaned back into him, her bum pressed into his hard body, her back to his sculpted front, she offered her mouth up to be kissed.
The offering seemed to please him and, with a growl, he took her mouth, kissing her wildly, without holding back.
Before long, neither of them could endure it. She turned in his arms, holding him tight, drinking in the feel of him.
Adam cupped her face, kissing her again and again until all thought left her.
So, when he picked her up, cradling her to his chest, and brought her to the daybed, she felt as if she was in a dream. A dream of candle-glow and bliss.
He lowered her onto it and waited.
For a moment, she did not know what for. And then she knew he was waiting for a sign. A sign to join her. Permission.
“Are you afraid?” she asked.
He nodded.
It was hard to imagine a man so big, so intense, so powerful being afraid.
“Of what?” she whispered.
He licked his sensual lips, lips which had brought her to pleasure again and again. Emotion shadowed his gaze as he murmured, “I have dreamt of this moment for weeks. And I am afraid that it will all disappear. That it’s not real.”
Her heart pounded against her rib cage, and she was suddenly filled with certainty.
Holding his gaze, she slowly took her skirts in her hands.
As she lay back upon the soft cushions, she propped her foot upon the daybed, her knee bending.
And as she inched those silk skirts and her chemise above her stockings, baring her thighs, she urged, “Come and see how real I am.”
A growl tore from his throat and he crossed to her. He covered her body, just as she’d imagined in her dreams.
Frantically, they began to pull at each other’s clothes.
The time for slowness was done. They both knew what they wanted here, in the magic of the half-light.
He freed her breasts from the bodice of her gown and took each pink-tipped nipple in his mouth in turn.
Soft moans slipped from his throat, as if he had never known such satisfaction.
She was shocked that such a thing could cause her to lose herself so entirely. She arched against him, the place between her thighs hot with need.
Wild for him, she stroked her fingers over the front of his breeches.
He helped her undo the buttons, and when his sex sprang free, she hesitated for a moment, because she had seen it before in their other exchanges, and she knew what it was for. Her pleasure. Deep inside her body. And she knew it was the only thing that was at last going to make her feel fully his.
She stroked the head, gasping at the soft bead of dew there.
He closed his eyes and gasped, his body shaking.
“Adam,” she whispered. “Show me what to do.”
He opened his eyes and then carefully laid down beside her and urged, “Part your thighs.”
She did as instructed, and he kissed her.
Not her mouth, but her sex. She let out a frustrated cry, for she longed to feel his hard length.
But he did not stop. No, he stroked her with his tongue and sucked ever so slightly as he drove her near the madness of desire.
And just when she was certain she couldn’t take anymore, he lifted himself and positioned himself between her thighs.
Their gazes met as he stroked the head of his sex along her slick folds, found her entrance, and rocked home.
The feeling stunned her. She felt stretched. Odd. More.
“You have the most unique expression on your face,” he said, straining, clearly determined not to cause her pain.
“Well, it is quite strange,” she confessed as she marveled at the sensation.
He laughed a half-pained sound and then he stroked the secret spot in her folds and thrust home.
As a ripple of anticipation swept through her, but she felt no pain at the sudden fullness. Quite the contrary, he felt just right.
And she wanted her anticipation to become release. Their release. So, she wound her arms about his neck and gave herself over.
Adam stroked her body inwardly, thrusting and rocking in an ever-growing momentum. They worked together in a fever pitch of need. She felt frantic. She needed whatever was at the end of this.
And then, suddenly, her mouth opened, and she let out a silent cry as intense wave after wave of a bliss so profound she feared she’d left the world traveled through her.
Adam joined her, calling out her name.
When their breaths calmed, they laid in each other’s arms. She knew she was his, that she’d always wanted to be his.
Somehow, she had to rise to the challenge of his world to be the duchess he needed.
Because she could never give this…him…up.