The Third Duke's the Charm (12 page)

Instead he kissed her again.

As he’d said before, he’d rather demonstrate than explain.

Chapter Twelve

The aftern
oon had a dreamlike feel to it, with the glide of the river in the background, the smell of crushed grass under the blanket, the drift of silver clouds above . . . Lucien tugging free the ribbon on her chemise and parting the cloth. The brush of air over her bared breasts made her quiver, but not because it was cold, but more because of the way he touched her.

Expertly . . .
he should be able to do that after all
, a small inner voice reminded her, as he no doubt had experience whereas she had none. However, that was about to change and it felt quite natural somehow, as if it were as simple an equation as mutual desire. As if she weren’t half undressed in the middle of the afternoon, with a man who wasn’t yet her husband, allowing him the most scandalous liberties . . .

It was startling to realize she didn’t
wish
for him to stop.

With care, his fingers gentle, he cupped her exposed breast and lowered his head to take an aching nipple into his mouth. The swirl of his tongue caused a telltale shudder of enjoyment to ripple through her body and a flush to touch her skin.

It was possible she was a wanton; Vivian decided that then and there.

The silk of his hair was warm as she touched it, the heat from his tall body palpable. He’d taken off his cravat earlier and only wore a fine linen shirt now unbuttoned at the neck to expose an intriguing glimpse of his strong throat and a hint of bare chest, breeches, and boots, their mutual state of undress shocking, but then again, she knew enough that she understood clothing needed to be shed for what they were about to do.

“Delicious,” he murmured against her breast. “But I knew you would be.”

If she had been capable of coherent thought, she might have responded. However, what to say escaped her, and the sensation of his mouth against her tingling flesh was overwhelming. All she managed was a slight incoherent sound that was suspiciously like a moan.

He smiled. She could feel the curve of his mouth against her sensitized skin.

There was glorious freedom in being lured into impropriety, she decided, after twenty-two virtuous years. Especially, since he was pledged to marry her already, what did she have to lose except her virginity? and he was bound to take that soon enough.

A lean hand slid along her thigh, pushing the lacy edge of her chemise upward. “I’m going to touch you everywhere.”

“Is that a warning?” She almost reached down reflexively to catch his wrist and stop him, but willed herself to just relax. Though it was a bit astonishing to realize it, since she didn’t know him half as well as she knew Charles, trust was not the issue. She was nervous, but not afraid.

“A promise.” His touch was light. “You’ll like it.”

She had no doubt she would. The fluid expertise of his caress was reassuring, as was how his lazy smiled belied the intensity in his gaze. The expertise she took for granted as part of his public persona. He was naturally someone who succeeded if he put his mind to a task.

The intensity she took personally.

“How come I am sure you are right?” The question ended on a gasp as he edged her hem up around her waist.

She’d never imagined being so . . . so
exposed
before a man, even her husband. Not when the afternoon was just waning, not on a grassy hill in the countryside, not . . . ever.

And then he fulfilled his promise and touched her
there
. In the most intimate place possible. Just a stroke of his fingers, but enough to make her blush furiously and try to pull down her chemise.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered in reassurance, propped next to her on one elbow, his face just inches away, distracting her with another persuasive kiss. He whispered against her mouth, his lips firm and warm. “Let me in and I’ll give you . . . paradise.”

“Rather an ambitious promise, my lord,” she whispered back, but truly as he cupped her between her legs, the tenderness and strength of his hand were an interesting contrast.

He laughed, but it held a distinct husky edge. “We can discuss it afterward and you can let me know if I am true to my word.”

Though it was difficult to do, she parted her thighs a little and shut her eyes as he touched her even more intimately, a shiver of pleasure mingling with her apprehension and embarrassment. The rhythm of his fingers seemed to settle on a certain spot that caused a flutter deep in the pit of her stomach and she shifted her hips after a moment, tamping down the urge to make another unladylike sound.

He fondled and teased, all the while kissing her throat, her breasts, shifting with the growing restlessness of her body, changing the caresses as something unknown blossomed and grew, her focus shifting to the heat between her legs.

“Exactly,” he said as if he could read her mind, which was rapidly losing any capacity for rational thought. “This isn’t the time for propriety.”

She realized then she’d spread her legs open to give him better access to continue whatever delectable thing he was doing to her body, but she was beyond caring.

“Oh.” It was an inadequate word, but the best she could do as the first shuddering tremor hit her. The sensation was incredible, exquisite, delicious beyond belief and she involuntarily arched, his rotating fingers pressing still in light circles until she felt it again, and caught her breath in a singular gasp as it happened a second, spine-tingling time.

The world spun, she lay panting and a little dazed, almost unaware he was removing his boots. Lucien said softly, “I assume, with your inquisitive mind you want to know the rest of it? Why men and women like to do this together so much? As I said earlier, I’ll be more than happy—trust me on that—to show you now that you are ready.”

Was she ready? If he meant that bursting physical joy, she was still trying to comprehend it.

Moreover, he had discarded his shirt now and the sight of his bare chest was enough to render her incapable of speech, but when he stood and swiftly stripped out of his breeches, she realized the full depth of this seduction, for his arousal was a startling revelation. She wasn’t entirely ignorant, having seen sketches of male nudes, but his erect sex was large, rigid against his flat stomach—formidably so. Luckily, at her age she had a few friends who were married women and there had been some enlightening comments, but she hadn’t quite realized . . .

He lowered himself between her thighs, his tall body covering hers. “This is new to me, too,” he told her, his eyes heavy-lidded, “so bear with me . . .”

Her hands went up to catch his shoulders as she felt the pressure at her feminine entrance as he adjusted himself, rubbing the tip of his erection lightly against her. “I hate to mention gossip at this particular time, my lord, but it is hardly new to you.”

“I’m not perfect, but I’d like to think I’m not a fool. I’m the heir to a dukedom and there is no swifter path to the altar than taking a woman’s virtue. I’ve never touched a virgin.”

He was certainly touching one now, Vivian thought. The brush of his hard chest against the erect tips of her breasts was an interesting sensation and the stretching as he began to slowly push into her body not all that comfortable. It must have shown in her face because he feathered a kiss across her cheek. “Am I hurting you?”

“Not precisely,” she managed to say.

“My apologies, but I’m about to.”

An involuntary cry escaped her lips when true to his word he surged forward and there was a stinging pain. It took a moment to realize that he was now fully inside her, his hips against her inner thighs.

She was now, undeniably, fully, and irrevocably ruined.

Normally this was a game he played with facile ease, but at the moment, his usual expertise was in abeyance. Vivian’s slender body lay beneath his, her hands clasping his upper arms, her delicate face still tinted a becoming pink from her recent orgasm. Lucien brushed a tendril of shining dark hair from her cheek, arousal making every muscle in his body tense, her exquisite heat and tightness around his throbbing cock fueling the primal urge to move.

Not until she was ready.

There was an art to sexual control, and if there was ever a time in his life he needed to exercise it, it was now. Lightly he traced the curve of a silky brow with a fingertip. “Tell me when it’s better.”

“It wasn’t too bad.” There was a hint of welcome relief in her voice. “I knew there would be some pain.”

You are mine now
. He didn’t say it out loud, but the thought flitted across his mind. “It’s over. It won’t hurt again. Quite the opposite.”

The slight adjustment of her hips spoke volumes. The erotic effect of even that small movement made him take in a sharp breath. Instinct was, after all, a powerful force no matter how sophisticated the human race might perceive itself to be. Testing her willingness, he slid backward a slight distance and glided forward again.

Very lightly, her fingernails dug in.

Pleasure bombarded his nerve endings at the slick, hot feel of her inner muscles tensing just that small fraction around his penetration. “May I?”

Her lashes fluttered upward. “Yes.”

Being granted permission was like being given a gift that he wanted to reciprocate. Lucien started to move in subtle thrusts at first, gently, carefully against her, inside her, until her first gasp sent a clear signal she wanted more, her responsiveness absolutely his pleasure. Under him, she began to learn the rhythm, undulating into his forward movements, one hand going to the base of his spine in a signal he didn’t misunderstand as she finally moaned out loud without inhibition.

It wasn’t as if he needed to be asked twice.

Erotic enjoyment didn’t even begin to describe the experience of making love for the first time in his life. Before now, before this moment, there had always been an element of restraint in his sexual encounters, of not fully sharing, the goal a casual, mutual pleasure tempered by the knowledge it was just a passing physical need. This was different, more real, the complete measure of the act of intimacy. Just not having to worry about conception was unique and knowing he was making love to his future wife added a dimension of freedom and emotion that enhanced the pleasure.

With a leisure that belied his powerful need, he waited for the betraying signs of her arousal to peak, watching her eyes close and the flush on her cheeks deepen. The pressure of her hands increased, her palms sliding restlessly across his back with each inward thrust, the sound of their breathing mingling with the soft chirping of the birds and the sigh of the breeze.

The brush of her taut nipples across his chest as he lowered his head to kiss her, fighting off the urge to ejaculate but close to losing the battle, nearly undid him.

“Vivian,” he urged, sliding his hand between them to stroke her. “Reach for it, let it happen . . .”

The ripple of her climax tightened around him a few moments later, her low cry mingling with his groan as he followed, the shuddering explosion tumultuous and wild, his release so rapturous he lost himself for crucial moments, his head falling forward as the very breath left his lungs and he flooded her with his seed.

His first coherent thought was that this was just the beginning. She would belong in his arms, his bed, his life forever. Her beauty and passion was his alone and he was ready for it, undaunted by the idea of being her lover, her husband, and someday a father.

“Ooh,” she murmured, her glorious eyes slowly opening, their color as brilliant as the soft meadow grass around them.

“I agree,” he said, dropping a kiss on her bare shoulder, tasting the hint of saltiness from her damp skin.

He adjusted his position so he wasn’t sprawled on top of her body, bracing his weight, noting with a twinge of wry humor that his arms were slightly shaking.

Vivian started laughing. It was delightful, not just because the sound was musical, but because he hadn’t withdrawn from her delectable—and it certainly was—body yet and the sensation was tantalizing.

“May I inquire as to what is so humorous?” He traced the straight line of her nose with a fingertip.

“It’s just . . .” she caught her breath, and another laugh bubbled forth. “I had a completely mistaken notion of what it would be like to . . . well, do what we just did. How can I be a grown woman, an on-the-shelf spinster at that, and not have the slightest inkling of one of the most basic parts of human life?”

“You are not a spinster.” He grinned then, indulgent in the aftermath of such delicious pleasure. “You are a gorgeous, passionate woman, and I for one am delighted you didn’t marry anyone else those first four seasons.”

Suddenly her eyes were luminous. “So am I.”

“So, what is your impression of your newfound knowledge?” he teasingly asked, his voice a murmur, one finger idly twirling a lock of her lustrous hair. “Will you be willing to experiment with lovemaking again? I am assuming the answer is yes.”

“I have a feeling you could persuade me.” Her hand ran over his shoulder in a light caress. “You effectively made your point about why men and women wish to do this together.”

“I’m glad I acquitted myself well.”

“I feel confident you knew you would.” Her voice held a dry note, because even almost completely naked, disheveled, and in the drift of post-coital bliss, she could be analytical.

“I knew I would try to make it as pleasurable as possible. Luckily, you are as adventurous as you are intelligent.”

“Luckily, you are one of the few men I know who admires intelligence in a woman.”

“We are in accord then.” He brushed his mouth against hers. “Tell me, do you think our children will have your remarkable eyes? My chin? They’ll be dark haired at a guess, since we both are. I assume you do realize now that is possible.”

Maybe she hadn’t thought of that yet, for she stared at him for a heartbeat and then her cheeks took on a rosy color. “Is it?”

He wasn’t all that surprised she didn’t exactly know how conception worked. As far as he could tell, proper young ladies, no matter how well-read, were not offered that information, which was why he’d mentioned it. He said frankly, “In that moment of pleasure for you, when it happens for me, I release my seed. If your womb is fertile at the time, a babe arrives nine months later.”