Rival Desires (Properly Spanked Legacy 1)

He pressed himself a little bit inside, stretching her, but she was slick and ready, and he entered into her for the second time since she’d known him.

Oh, the fit was very tight. She had a moment of panic, then remembered she must relax, that men and women were made to fit together so. Still, her shuddery gasp lasted the entire time he slid inside her.

“Are you all right?” he asked, lowering his head to hold her gaze.

“Yes. It only feels so strange,” she whispered. “So strange when you’re within me.”

“Strange and wonderful. You feel so good, so lovely, that I’m about to explode.”

“I feel that too. That I might explode.”

He didn’t answer her wondering observation. She thought, perhaps, he was working too hard to control himself, as his breath had changed since he entered her. His teeth were gritted as he began to move. She stroked his back to soothe him, feeling luscious and wanton, caressing his tensing muscles as he moved in and out of her.

“It feels very good,” she said a moment later. “Not so strange anymore.” She began to move in concert with him, wrapping her arms about his shoulders as his thrusting hips drove her thighs farther apart.

“You see, you know just what to do.” He encouraged her with a deep, demanding kiss, and she responded as he drove deeper, ever deeper inside her.

“You’re filling me up, stretching me so. Oh, Wescott…”

His name felt marvelous on her lips, just as he felt marvelous inside her. She rubbed her sensitive spot against him, arching, and he stroked her there with the pad of his thumb until she trembled. Her fingers tightened on his skin, and her legs tensed and squeezed against him, and then the pressure reached a peak that went on and on, pulsing inside her, making her hips jerk against his.

“My beautiful wife,” he said. “My beautiful crosspatch.” As she shook all over, he abandoned his iron control and thrust deep, groaning against her ear. “Mine,” he said, or perhaps he said “Dying.” Either one, she’d understand. She felt she’d died a little too, in a very nice way.

He collapsed beside her, taking care not to crush her as he pulled her against him, belly to belly. They were still connected, and her body pulsed around him now and again, making him gasp, and then smile.

“It was better to wait,” he said, running light fingertips along her jaw and beneath her chin, “if this was the result.”

“It was a fine result, wasn’t it?” In the same way she hadn’t known how to proceed at the beginning, she was at a loss for words now. She decided a question would be all right, since he held her in such rapt attention. “Since we are married, how often do we lie together like this?”

He smiled. “As often as we wish. It would please me to be inside you every night.” He pulled away, his member having decreased in size. “My cock will stand at attention again, never fear,” he said at the question in her expression. “You do have a way of arousing my carnal hungers. Speaking of hungers, let’s have dinner in our rooms tonight. I’d like to stay in bed with you a while longer. All night, if you wish.”

She found she did wish it, even if his parents might wonder at their absence. The duke and duchess had been married some time, and happily, hadn’t they? They would probably understand.

He tilted her face up for a kiss. “Are you hungry, Lady Wescott?” he asked when they parted.

“Famished,” she said.

Chapter Fifteen

Not So Afraid

They ate dinner together in her bed, something Wescott had never done with any other woman. He found his wife unlike any other woman, which probably meant he cared for her in more than an abstract way. He loved little things about her, like the way she drew her knees up when she snuggled against him, and the way she licked crumbs from her lips.

“We must ask Cook to make you some Welsh shortbread tomorrow,” she said. “Your sister told me it was your favorite thing to eat. She was also the one who told me about the armory.”

“Of course she was.” He sighed. “I didn’t enjoy finding you in there. I worried for your safety.”

“I’m sorry if I gave you a start.”

“It was more than a start. I had visions of you tripping and impaling yourself, and I wondered how I might explain it to your father.”

She laughed, twirling a roasted carrot. “I’m not as clumsy as that. I trained in theater arts as well as singing. I can even dance a bit.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He took another bite of the cook’s tender filet. “I was glad to finally hear you sing. Your voice is beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

He could see a bit of color bloom in her cheeks. “Did you really lose your voice after the fire?” he asked.