What the Duke Wants

Chapter Fifteen




The wedding was long. So long that Berty and Beatrix fell asleep on Lady Southridge, who wasn’t in much better shape if her constant head bobbing was any indication. In hindsight, Charles thought that perhaps it was the vicar’s only way at retribution for being woken up at the break of dawn.

Apparently, this vicar wasn’t an early riser.

Therefore, after not one, but two sermons on the virtue of patience and brotherly love —which he didn’t see the relevance for at a wedding, for heaven’s sake, brotherly love?— and an especially long vow process —including vows he had never heard of at any other wedding, ever —since when did a man promise his wife a pig?— Charles was finally convinced the end was in sight.

He should have known better.

After yet another sermon —this one on self-control, which was causing him to quickly lose whatever control he’d had— the vicar pronounced them man and wife —and Charles silently swore that the vicar would be finding a new parish to preside over.

It was only eleven in the morning when all was said and done, and Charles was not in any mood to wait till nightfall. So, after being quite patient through a luncheon prepared by the Greenford Water’s staff, he made their excuses and, to the amused grin of Lady Southridge, stole his wife away. Far away. Thankfully he had heard Lady Southridge mention a picnic to the girls.

He knew he loved that woman.

Or at least liked her. He could afford to be charitable since it was his wedding day.

And so, without any hesitation, he swept his beautiful wife into his arms, and strode purposefully down the hall.

“I can walk,” Carlotta murmured against his neck, as she buried her head there in a decidedly contented fashion.

“No, not fast enough.”

“Impatient?”

“You have no idea, and I actually think I have been quite patient! Any other woman would have been proposing to me at my first blink in their direction! You, I had to chase across half of England.”

“How trying for you.”

“Indeed. But lucky for you, I find you worth the effort.”

Carlotta laughed, a deeply seductive sound that made him increase his pace, and not a moment too soon, they entered his room. He set her down, kissed her quickly and then turned and locked the door. And for good measure, he put a chair in front too.

Nothing was going to interrupt him.

Nothing was going to interrupt this.

****

Slowly, with measured grace he circled her, his eyes roaming every inch, setting her on fire with his gaze alone. Wherever his gaze landed felt like a fiery touch, igniting a passion within her that she didn’t know existed.

And she suspected it was only the beginning.

Mercy.

His eyes, so light and mischievous usually, smoldered with blue fire. With one deliberate step after another, he slowly strode towards her, his gaze never leaving hers, freezing her in place as she waited, breathless for whatever happened next.

Because honestly, she hadn’t much of a clue as to what happened next. She knew it was intimate, she knew a few basic particulars, but beyond that? Nothing. Yet she didn’t feel fear or even embarrassment at her lack of knowledge, rather an anticipation for her very thorough education.


Because the duke, Charles, was nothing if not thorough.

She inhaled deeply, letting the moment overcome all other senses. Closing her eyes, she waited. A moment before his lips caressed hers ever so gently, she felt his warmth against her skin, heating her without even a touch. Tenderly, he traced the seam of her lips till she opened them, welcoming his caressing tongue as he began the dance, one she could only follow as he led.

Pressing for more, she leaned into him, demanding more of his kiss, but he didn’t give in to her demands, he backed away.

“No love, the anticipation, it is part of the glory, and possibly the most important part,” he whispered against her lips then nibbled them wickedly.

“Anticipation?”

“Yes…” he murmured then bowed to kiss the curve of her jaw.

Her eyes closed in passion and all she could hear was the sound of her heart, the sound of his breathing.

His very measured breathing against the gasps of her own.

“Why aren’t you as affected?” she lowered her chin to meet his gaze, insecurity slithering into her heart like black ink.

“Not affected?” His eyes widened and he took a step back. “Every inch of me is demanding I take you without even the slightest or smallest precursor to lovemaking. Your name is a litany in my mind, whispered by my heart every time it beats. The fact that I’m wanting to make this the most amazing…” He kissed her neck once more. “…blissful, reverent, and erotic experience you’ll ever have… until the next time… and the time after that till I’m too old to see straight.” He chuckled against her skin, inhaling deeply. “I want to remember every moment, every scent that I inhale off your fragrant and flushed skin. I’m far more affected than I might seem because if I even allow the slightest lapse in my self-control, this will be over before I even have a chance to begin.

“I’ve made my share of mistakes, Carlotta. This will not, be one of them. I’m not simply making love to you, I’m giving you everything I am.” He murmured against her skin, his hands caressing her shoulders and pausing at the ribbons of her dress, unlacing it. A moment later, it pooled at her feet in a heap of lavender silk. The warmth from his hands saturated her soul, melting her into a world where nothing apart from him existed. Kissing her neck his hands wound around her back, deftly undoing each button until none remained. Her skin was feverish, overly warm yet she trembled, never having been so exposed to another person.

And she was still in her underpinnings.

Softly, he tugged, unlaced, and removed every last barrier. His touch was methodical, possessive and like sparks causing her body to ignite in a delicious fever. Once finished, he reached down lacing his fingers within hers, gripping them tightly as he slowly let his gaze travel down, stepping back he took her in, completely bare.

The embarrassment that she anticipated in such an intimacy never surfaced. Rather she found that she felt bolder. Stronger. Like she had faced her greatest fear and realized it was never a fear to begin with. Taking a deep breath, she smiled and lifted their interlaced hands… and spun slowly, like a dance. His gasp caused her to smile, a knowing smile that only a woman as desired, as loved as she could ever experience. With their hands still raised, he released her hand and trailed his caress down her arms, flowing over her most sensitive areas and resting on her stomach. He pressed into her belly till she stepped back and she was flush against him. Her eyes drifted closed.

“I love you,” he whispered as he kissed her neck. “But I do believe I’m reaching my limits…”

“Oh?”

“Hmm,” he murmured against her skin as his hands roamed her hips, squeezing them and rubbing his jaw against the curve of her shoulder.

“Perhaps I can help.” Turning in his arms, she reached up, glanced up into his smoldering gaze and began to untie his cravat. The soft silk floated to the floor. Reaching up on her toes, she kissed his neck as she began to unbutton his white shirt after she removed his jacket. His pulse raced against her lips, his breathing far more unsteady than earlier.

Carlotta rejoiced in the knowledge that she was the one causing it.

Once his shirt was loosened she slid her hands over his warm chest, across the hardened planes until it fell to the floor along with his cravat and coat. With a wicked grin, one she didn’t know she possessed, she reached down to remove the last barriers between them. Biting her lip, she made quick work of the remaining clothing till she was free to do some exploring of her own.

Taking a step back, she followed his example earlier and walked in a slow circle, studying him, memorizing every hardened plane and every valley in the ‘V’ of his back. Never could she have imagined the magnificent appearance of a naked man. He was perfect, solid, strong and gazing at her as if there was no one else in the world. She stilled, not quite knowing what to do next.

She should have known that he’d take command.

He always did.

Without a word he swept her into his arms and laid her on the bed, covering her with his body as he kissed her deeply, his hands raking over her body in desperation

An emotion she was learning to appreciate.

He was so warm, setting her skin on fire every place his skin touched hers.

Which was everywhere.

It was delicious, it was overwhelming. It was perfect.

“I—Carlotta, I might… as in… the first time I might cause you some pain.”

“Pain?”

“Bloody hell… please tell me you know what I’m talking about,” he swore, his face a mask of determined passion.

“I trust you,” she whispered, closing her eyes and giving herself over to the feel of him.

“But—”

“I trust you, Charles. I love you, I’m quite mad with it, if you cannot already tell. There’s nothing I want more than for you to make me yours. In. Every. Way.”

“Carlotta.” He groaned and kissed her fiercely, as if a man starved.

Then he moved.

And everything Carlotta imagined about the intimacy of marriage was put to shame as she discovered what the physical act of love could do.

Her world rose.

It fell.

It shattered into a million pieces of light.

And never had she felt more whole. More loved.

It was the amazing feeling of being completed and realizing the missing piece she had always been missing was found in someone else. Not herself.

It was blissful, amazing and she had the whole experience to look forward to for the rest of her life.

Charles pulled her into the cocoon of his warmth as he lay beside her. His soft breath tickled her hair as she leaned against him and felt the rapid beating of his heart against her back, knowing hers was pounding just as hard.

“I love you,” she murmured against his arm as it curved around her, pulling her in tight.

“I love you.” He took in a breath, as if preparing to say something then thinking better of it.

“What were you going to say?” she asked, turning in his embrace to face him.

“I was going to say something then thought better of it.”

“Oh? Why?”

“Because I want nothing more than to live, to dwell in this perfect moment. Life happens, Carlotta, but when these perfect moments happen, you have to live in them, own them, commit them to memory so that you have them with you always.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“I have had the unfortunate necessity of learning from my mistakes.”


“Haven’t we all?”

“Perhaps, but I have quite a list of sins, my love.” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “What I was going to say was… never in all my life, my sordid, blasted and black past have I ever experienced what we completed this night, ever. Nor could I have ever imagined that love could feel like this. What I’m trying to say is that whatever my sins, that is one thing I can give you that I’ve given no one else. You have my heart. It’s never been given to another and in that, you are my first, my last and only.”

“Thank you,” she whispered and kissed his forehead, closing her eyes and doing just as he suggested; owning the moment, memorizing it. “I’ll guard it with my life. Guard mine too.”

“With my life.”

****

Good Lord, why weren’t there more children in the world?

So maybe it wasn’t the most romantic thought, it was still the first thought in Carlotta’s mind when she awoke, nestled in the shelter of her husband’s arms, with his very warm, very tempting skin on hers, and her memory all too vivid from their night of passion.

Yes, it was a strange thing that there were not thousands of babies born every day if that was how it came about.

Groggily he shifted so that the sheet covering her didn’t actually cover her any longer. For a split second, she thought about pulling it up.

For propriety sake.

And then realized she was being quite proper being undressed, naked, and languid.

Because she was married. Every warning flag of passion was now a white flag of surrender. It was intoxicating, it was freeing and it gave her imagination far too much to work with.

Sighing in satisfaction, she nestled deeper into his embrace, drinking in the scent, the sunlight spinning into their room, the soft cadence of his breathing.

And was home.

****

Charles awoke to the soft press of his wife’s body nestled into his chest. Before he even opened his eyes, he could smell the sweet scent of her skin, the fragrance of her hair… lemons? And the perfect curve of her hips fitting against his.

And gone was the tranquil moment.

Rather, all he wanted to do was explore her again, and again and then after perhaps a break for food and water… again. Every experience he had prior to last night was pathetic, cheap and a rather poor imitation of what love could truly feel like.

It was poetic; deeper than the physical, it was stronger than any words, it was… without description. But he felt it all the same. Deep in his heart, his soul.

It was madness.

It was absolutely perfect and he couldn’t wait for each new sunrise where he’d find himself beside his wife.

With a wicked grin, he allowed his gaze to greedily take in her exposed shoulder, creamy and soft, perfectly curved, a delightful preamble to the curves to be found just beyond.

He placed a kiss to the very sensitive place he discovered last night, right where her neck and shoulder met, and lingered there, teasing the flesh with his tongue.

“You’re awake.” She spoke softly, a grin evident in her tone.

“Indeed,” he murmured against her skin.

If she were planning on saying anything else, he’d never know. Because before she had a chance, he was spinning her around, finding the sweet delight of her mouth and restarting everything they explored the night before.