Just when she thought she was going to get what she wanted—his complete surrender—he pulled her away from him and turned them in one swift move.
“That was most unfair of you,” she protested. “I ordered you not to move.”
He settled between her legs, his cock, slick from her mouth, brushing over her hungry flesh. “I want to spend inside your cunny tonight, my love. A moment more, and I would have lost that particular battle.”
“I will have to punish you for your disobedience later,” she told him breathlessly as his fingers dipped between them to drive her back into a writhing frenzy.
“If your punishment involves what I think it does, I shall happily accept.” He gripped his cock, positioning himself at her entrance.
Impatience and need were in concert now, making her pump her hips toward him. He surprised her then by hooking her legs over his shoulders. The position opened her to him in a new way, and for a moment she feared this angle and his large manhood would not possibly work.
But then, he thrust, filling her in one fluid motion. And he was deeper than he had ever been before, it seemed, reaching a part of her that was more sensitive than she could have dreamed. They sighed as one as he held himself there, buried to the hilt within her.
They were one.
And this time, unlike the last, she would not have to leave him in the morning. This time, she could fall asleep in his arms and not dread the sunrise. With a newfound urgency, she spurred him on by rocking against him.
He withdrew from her almost completely before sinking inside again.
She was stretched. Gloriously full.
No sensation could ever rival this one.
She was soaring on a cloud of rapture as he quickened his pace, moving in and out of her with faster strokes. She never wanted it to end.
Benedict was doing everything in his power to prolong making love to his wife.
But being inside Isabella’s tight heat at last, after so many weeks of waiting and anticipating, was pure heaven. Of course, that she had taken him in her pretty mouth beforehand certainly did not help matters.
Good God, his new duchess was an insatiable siren.
He loved it. He loved her.
After nearly losing her, and coming far too bloody close to death, he appreciated her in a way he never could have before. He felt every sensation as if it were the first time. With each stroke, he slid into her, and she gripped him like a homecoming. She was smooth, so smooth. And wet, so wet.
She was on his lips, the scent of her surrounding him, her pale legs over his shoulders. He caressed her thighs as he drove into her again and again, increasing his pace, thrusting harder. He could not resist watching their bodies joining. His cock was glistening with her juices as he rammed in and out of her cunny. She was pink and flushed, her slick folds parted to accept him. The sight had his ballocks drawing tight.
“I love you,” he told her, sinking deep again.
He concentrated, fighting off his impending orgasm, determined to make her spend again first. Benedict withdrew from her entirely, lowering her legs. She lay there, her breathing ragged, confusion drawing her sweet brow into a knot. He drank in the sight of her, splayed and flushed, her breasts drawn into tight little buds that begged for his mouth.
“Benedict? What are you doing?”
“Patience, Your Grace,” he teased, circling her pearl with two fingers until she was writhing, her excitement bathing him in liquid heat. “I am making love to my wife.”
“I know that, but why did you—oh!”
Whatever his inquisitive duchess had been about to say ended on an exclamation as he fitted his cock to her and pumped his hips. They were joined again, his fingers still working her pearl. He dipped his head to suckle her nipple until she made a kittenish sound of need, and then he kissed her lips instead.
“Yes,” he said against her mouth. “Oh.”
Damnation, she was tight, constricting on him. Stealing his breath. Making him even madder for her than he already was. He found a rhythm that had them both breathless. She moved with him, meeting him thrust for thrust, taking him as deeply as she could.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” he told her before kissing her slowly once more.
She did.
Her cunny clenched, spasms quivering through her as she reached her pinnacle. Heat licked down his spine. His ballocks tightened again. There was no way to rein himself in now. He was too far gone.
On a primal shout, he thrust hard, spilling into his wife at last.
He remained where he was for a moment, reveling in this closeness, their bodies and hearts as one. She felt so good, he never wanted to withdraw. He kissed her lingeringly, showing her with his lips and tongue how precious she was to him as words failed.
She framed his face and kissed him back, rocking beneath him in hungry, shallow thrusts that had his cock hardening again. He focused on the sensation of her beneath him, the softness of her breasts, the hard pebbles of her nipples brushing against his chest. She tightened on him, drawing him deeper, and the need to take her again was undeniable.
She was a marvel. A goddess. And if she wanted more, he would give her that. Hell, he would give her anything she wanted. Everything she wanted.
He pumped into her slowly at first, grinding her body into the mattress as he worked to bring them both to the heights of bliss once more. She became frenzied as he flicked his thumb over her engorged pearl, stroking her as he kissed her and thrust deep.
This time would not last as long as the first,
