As night fell over the manor, a sense of anticipation hung in the air. Adelaide sat by her vanity, brushing her hair in slow, deliberate strokes. She felt a mix of anxiety and curiosity about what the night might bring. The earlier events of the day had left her feeling vulnerable, but Luca's gentle words had also sparked a glimmer of hope.
There was a soft knock at her door, and Adelaide's heart skipped a beat. "Enter," she called, her voice steadier than she felt.
Luca stepped inside, his presence filling the room. He looked at her, his gaze warm and reassuring.
"Adelaide," he began softly, "may I speak with you?"
She nodded, setting down her brush and rising to meet him. "Of course, Your grace."
"Call me Luca." He demanded.
He took her hand, his touch gentle.
Slowly, so slowly, he traced her carnal, rose pink lips with his thumb. Back and forth, around and around, until her lower lip grew even poutier, and her breathing came in short, quick pants.
"Luca…"
"Stand up, Adelaide. Now."
~^~
WHAT DID Luca want of her?
It felt like she'd been walking on an abandoned bridge from the moment the priest had pronounced her and Luca married, trying to step on solid ground and finding only air.
Their wedding day. The horrible dinner.
The shame of waking still a virgin, utterly unsure what to do.
And now touching her. His thumb had been so warm. Slightly rough. And the way he'd traced her lips, over and over, until they tingled…shockingly, she'd felt it in other places.
Her nipples had tightened, and that secret place between her legs had begun to ache.
"Adelaide . I said stand up." His words were even, no hint of anger, but there could be no doubting an order. And the way he loomed over her, so huge and hard and uncompromising, made her tremble. Slowly, she got to her feet, keeping her gaze on a spot over his left shoulder.
"As you wish, Luca." "I wish many things," he said in a low voice that seemed to rasp over her skin.
"Look at me."
Every sense she possessed screamed a warning as his big hands settled on her shoulders.
Her gown might not expose a square inch of skin, yet the heat of him soaked straight through the fabric to burn her.
Oh God.
It was happening, that sensation of her gown being far too small, the fine muslin and soft linen petticoat chafing her flesh. Reluctantly, knowing somehow for her own self-preservation it wouldn't be the sensible thing to do, Adelaide glanced up.
And her breath caught. His eyes, so dark they were almost black, seared right through her. His bronzed skin made him appear rougher, even primal.
"Do not touch my body," he rasped. "Only my hands. Or forearms.
Startled at the unusual instruction, Adelaide stared at him, uncertain. The words were plain, and yet…
"Very well," she whispered eventually. "Husband." Luca groaned, and in a lightning fast movement, he secured both her hands behind her back in one of his. Seconds later his other hand clamped around the back of her neck, and his mouth crashed onto hers.
Fire.
The word flashed in her mind as the softness of her lips were both bruised and worshipped by the hardness of his.
Greedy for more hot intimacy, Adelaide daringly shuffled forward until the bodice of her pink gown just brushed the lapels of his jacket.
Somehow like this, his height and broad shoulders weren't frightening but reassuring, and his firm grip on her wrists a welcome anchor as his mouth plundered, rested, plundered again and threatened to send her floating away. Surely it must be wrong.
Too carnal for a married couple. Yet when his tongue touched her lips, demanding entry, she helplessly obeyed. And what had been hot became scalding.Greedy for more hot intimacy, Adelaide daringly shuffled forward until the bodice of her pink gown just brushed the lapels of his jacket.
A tiny sound escaped, part sigh, part whimper, as his tongue darted into her mouth, flicking and teasing, encouraging her tongue to move in return.
Tentatively she touched it to his, and he growled as he flexed his jaw then kissed her harder, before dropping the hand about her neck to her hip, scandalously sliding it around to caress her bottom.
"Luca," she gasped, as her hips instinctively tilted, yet not quite sure what she offered.
"You're so beautiful. Taste so sweet. I need to be inside you…to fuck you…" he said rawly.
Adelaide froze in shock, both at the forbidden word, and at the very large and very hard thing now nudging her belly.
His man part?
That would be shoved inside her during marital relations?
No. Impossible.
He would tear her in two with something so big. Wrenching away, Adelaide stepped back until a gap of several feet separated them.
"This…" she whispered, trying to marshal her scatteredthoughts, trying to control the fear icing over what had just been so hot,
"this is not proper." Luca stared at her incredulously. "What?"
Luca folded his brawny arms. "Really?
Based on your experience?" Heat surged across her cheekbones. "Surely it is improper?"
Adelaide's embarrassment at the setdown turned into confusion.
Clumsy with anxiety, she climbed onto the bed and attempted to arrange herself as per her grandmother's instructions.
Did she lift her nightgown to her waist? Or would he? Blast it, she couldn't remember! Eventually she lifted it halfway, so her ankles and knees were revealed.
Surely she couldn't be faulted for that. Now, if only her hands would stop trembling, she could prepare herself for The Event.
Resting her head on the pillow, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Please do proceed."
Nothing happened. In fact, her husband didn't even move from where he sat perched on the other side of the bed.
Thoroughly unsettled, Adelaide opened her eyes and looked at him. What had she done wrong this time? Was she so unappealing Luca couldn't bring himself to bed her again? Then he smiled faintly. "I thought we might kiss to start. If you're agreeable. But do not…please do not touch me."
"Of course. Whatever you wish."
He made a rough sound, and his gaze darkened as it practically pinned her to the bed. Sweet heaven. Not a proper look, but a hungry one.
Her skin heated and dampened, and abruptly her nightgown felt like sackcloth rather than soft linen.
Then he moved across the bed toward her, slowly and yet with such intent, that she shivered.
Kneeling beside her, Harrington cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing her lips. Finally, he bent down and brushed his mouth against hers, back and forth, again and again, until her lips were oh-so-sensitive and parting for him, and tingles shot down the length of her body.
"That's it. Good," he gritted out, flexing his jaw before his lips firmed, pressing much harder, and his tongue darted into her mouth and tangled with hers.
It was so delicious, she didn't even realize his hand had moved until it cupped her left breast, his thumb unerringly finding her nipple and rubbing it through her nightgown.
A jolt raced through her, hardening the tender peak, and Adelaide jerked away in shock. "What are you doing?"
His disconcerting dark gaze fixed on her again. "Making you wet." Now he spoke in riddles.
She'd already bathed. Why would she want to be wet again? "I don't see how that will help."
"It will. When pleasured," he said roughly, the timbre of his voice rasping against every nerve ending she had, almost making her squirm against the sheets, "your body will create wetness. Between your legs. To ease my way." A chill shot through her at his words. Pleasure?
Only whores enjoy the act.
"N-no thank you," she choked out. "Could you simply do what needs to be done so we are properly wed?" Luca leaned back and rubbed his jaw again, turning his face away so she could only see the uninjured side.
"You want me to just…lift your nightgown and shove inside you?."
His words were low and calm, yet she sensed resignation and…hurt? But how could that be? Surely, bedding his wife in the correct manner was something to aspire to.
"I understand that is how it is for marital relations between a duke and duchess," she replied cautiously, wanting to share what she knew and yet not offend.
"Swiftly and efficiently done, and then you bid me good evening and leave."
"I see," he said, pulling his robe a little tighter.
~~~
Luca begged to differ. Nothing about this damned evening had gone the way he'd hoped.
More like the destruction of any last remaining shreds of pride as his lady wife inadvertently said and did everything she could to cool his lust.
And yet it hadn't cooled. His cock still throbbed beneath the thankfully thick quilted robe.
Which just proved how pathetically desperate he was to bed her, to have that intimate connection with another person. But Adelaide wasn't ready, not truly.
Even though her clitoris had begun to swell against his thumb, she hadn't climaxed.
He didn't even know the color of her nipples, hidden as they were under the godawful nightgown. And yet he did know they were sensitive.
Before she'd yanked away from him, the peak had hardened with the barest of touches. Who knew how firm and jutting he could make them with a little stroking and sucking? Luca swallowed a groan.
Then there was her cunt, which he'd also only felt rather than seen thanks to the wretched cloth barrier. What shade were the crisp curls that had tickled his fingers? How would the silken, petal-soft folds of her labia, the swollen bud of her clitoris taste when soaked with her arousal? When she finally did reach orgasm, would Adelaide be a woman who sighed and arched? Moaned and writhed? Who screamed the house down and shredded the sheets with her fingernails? At this rate, he would never know the answers to his own questions. Not when his wife could be as changeably hot and cold as a spring day. "Your Grace? I am…that is, ah…"
He forced a polite smile. Another thing he would never get used to, the cold impersonality of being referred to by a title. In public, he could understand. But hell, they were in bed. "Of course. Let's get on with it, then."
Adelaide nodded and shifted her gaze to a spot somewhere across the chamber. God damn it, how, in the face of such reluctance, could he still want her so much? Moving again on the bed, Luca eased himself between her spread thighs and folded her nightgown up out of the way.
The curls between her legs were golden, perhaps a few shades darker than her hair, framing a dusky pink cunt and the darker folds of her labia where he'd stroked her.
Hunger, raw and overwhelming, surged through him like a storm. Fortunately, his robe remained belted tightly, if she saw the rest of his horrific scars, or the size of his engorged erection, she would bar him from her chamber forever.
"Must I do something?" Adelaide asked suddenly. "To assist? Or should I just lie here? That is what I was told to do. But I don't know if that is whatyou wish. I don't know anything.
It is so…so disagreeable not knowing anything." Luca stilled at the unexpected frustration in her tone.
Curiosity at least offered a sliver of hope that in future she might be willing to learn. To experiment. But he didn't want to overwhelm her this first time, and if his bloody foot began to misbehave and cramp his leg, they would never have a wedding night.
Besides the fact that it had been so long since he'd bedded a woman, his cock was practically screaming to get inside her.
Slowly, so slowly, Luca began to penetrate her. He felt her wince of discomfort—she was so damned tight—but he caressed her thigh reassuringly, and continued to inch forward.
The sooner he got this part over and done with, the better. His breathing quickened, and perspiration gathered at his temples. Christ.
The sensation of her cunt gripping his throbbing cock like a scalding hot glove was incredible. But more than that, knowing he was her first, that she would belong to him in this one special way forever…he'd never felt so primitive in his life. And yet he wouldcause her pain. Far more than the discomfort she currently felt, as he stretched her with the girth of his cock.
"Sorry,"
he gritted out. Then he thrust hard. Adelaide arched like a bow, briefly pressing a hand to her mouth to muffle a sobbing cry.
Momentum had him instantly buried to the hilt, and while he wanted to pause and allow her to adjust, he couldn't stop himself moving, greedy for the warmth and exquisite friction of advance and retreat. Yet he wanted to make this good for her.
Changing his angle, he ensured his groin rubbed against her mound on the down stroke, teasing her clitoris again and again.
A soft mewling sound escaped Adelaide's mouth, her inner walls rippling around him, before she bit her lip and looked away, as though wishing herself a thousand miles from him.
With a groan of dismayed ecstasy, Luca climaxed hard, his seed gushing inside her in several wrenching, blissful spurts. He allowed himself one moment of weakness; dropping his forehead onto the pillow next to her, and tentatively pressing his unmarked cheek against the silken softness of hers while he fought to catch his breath.
A soft hand came to rest on his forearm, and wild hope roared through him. Instead, she nudged his arm away. "Luca , I do beg your pardon, but would you mind, ah, withdrawing? I'm a little uncomfortable.
And I'm sure you'll want to retire to your own chamber. The last thing we want is servant gossip." Her words were like being doused in a bucket of icy water. Probably another duke and duchess rule.
"Of course," Luca said blandly, as though it didn't matter a whit, balancing on his elbow again and carefully withdrawing from her.
A little blood smeared her inner thighs along with trickling seed, and he hesitated. "Do you want me…to fetch a washcloth? Sit with you a while?"
Adelaide's cheeks went scarlet. "No. No thank you. Jenna, my maid, will attend me.
If you would just, ah, retire…" "You are well, though?"
"Quite well. Goodnight, Luca."
And with that polite dismissal, he left her bed.