Chapter Fifty-Three

Ravensmere Estate, Weeks Later

After a light dinner, Raven gazed at his wife with ardent desire. “Although, I’m not tired enough to sleep, I most likely will need a diversion. Shall we retire to our chambers?” His grin conveyed wicked intentions.

“You seek a diversion, my duke? Are you up to it?”

He strode to his wife, brought her to him, and rested his chin on her head. “I’m a hungry, strong man in need of my wife’s pleasures. We have the rest of the night reserved for each other with no interruptions allowed.” The scent of her hair teased his nostrils. “I love holding you in my arms like this.”

“You will not tax yourself?” her voice asked, yet her smile said otherwise.

“No more than any other exercise.”

“Like riding a horse astride, my husband?”

“Exactly what I had in mind.” Oh, he had many things in mind this night—this special night. “In fact, Doctor Clemons said it would aid my total recovery.”

She tilted her head. “I believe you are embroidering the truth.”

“No, you wound me.” He rang for Randall, who promptly tapped at his door.

“You rang, Your Grace?”

“The duchess and I are retiring to our suite. We’re not to be disturbed unless the house is on fire, or the Regent has died. I don’t believe any of those events will happen this night.”

“Good night, Your Graces.” Randall nodded.

They climbed the steps, his arm around her waist. He led her to his chamber, opened the door to allow her to pass, and then followed and locked the door.

“Raven, I’m so happy to be alone with you like this. I haven’t rung for Diandra. Can you help me out of this gown?”

“I do believe I remember how to do this. Such memories never leave me.”

She turned her back to him, and his fingers deftly unlaced the gown. It fell to the floor and she stepped out of it. She wore no corset or undergarments except for her chemisette.

“No undergarments, my love? Were you expecting me to…”

“I prayed you would be so inclined. I dislike corsets, truly. Being in a family way gives me a good excuse to avoid them.” Those wide eyes of hers beamed at him with desire. If he could, he would give her the moon as a crown, for his joy was boundless.

He went to her, and had her pirouette so he could admire all of her curves. “Let me look at you. The last time I was able to view you with just your stockings and slippers, we had a misunderstanding.”

Raven stepped back, placed his hand to his chin to study the vision before him.

“I don’t want to think of that awful night in the boathouse,” she said. “I’d rather think of the first night.”

He whispered in her ear while his lips caressed the erogenous spot below her earlobe. His tongue darted in the satin seam of her lips, and stroked her long neck as her breath hitched. He pleasured her mouth with a probing tongue, driving her closer to the edge of desire. Her purring became music to his ears. How he’d waited for this moment, yet he withdrew his lips from her.

He yanked his shirt over his head and his chest was exposed accentuating a small white bandage. His lips plundered again like a pirate of the seven seas with more intensity and unbelievable need. At her eager response, he led her to his bed, rested her upon it, and removed her chemise slowly, with ardor; his fingers explored the length of her.

The touch of her hand on his shoulder excited, teased, and soon tormented. The strands of her red hair were like silk as he ran his fingers through them, and the picture it presented, her shortened curls rested over the soft down pillow, further encouraging his firm arousal. In that there was pride.

In her naked splendor, his mouth traced its way down and across to her neck tasting the saltiness of her smooth skin and shoulders. He caressed her navel with his tongue and licked her just above her apex. At the moment when she might think he would ravage her there in her sacred spot, he moved upward again and assessed her arched body—

And its rhythm.

Wonderful rhythm.

Pulsating rhythm.

Some men discounted it, but to him, this act was everything seductive. His lips touched the sensitive area at the cleft of her throat, and his breath scorched as he slid down, across her breasts, and suckled until her nipples became taut. She was flushed the soft color of a pink flower, and looked more beautiful than ever. He withdrew his lips from her breasts. Her moan protested his absence. So he returned to worship them, one at a time, suckling them to a peak. He swore he felt the heat radiating from between her legs, and he wanted nothing more than to have her taste a piece of heaven.

Raven placed his cheek to hers in a caress. His hands touched her neck with gentleness at first, cupping her face and then centering his mouth down to her stomach where his lips probed in circles just above her feminine core.

He took measure of her, sensing he primed her to a deepened desire as she now writhed beneath him. The full sight of her gyrations conjured dreams of the fantasy lover she always spoke about. Could he play the role? Oh, yes, he could. Better yet, he wanted to prove it to them both.

Her hands tugged at his breeches to release their fall, and soon his aching manhood was released. The erotic sight as she bit on her lower lip with anticipation rocked him. Then she touched his shaft and slid her fingers up and down its solid firmness. His response almost undid him. To prolong the act, he showed her what a true lover could do to make her body thrum, to assail her senses, to desire, to taste and touch him and be touched in all the important erotic places. He teased and taunted, all the while he responded to her purrs of pleasure as she moaned when her body reacted to his touch in inconceivable passion.

The nakedness of her inner thighs beckoned him, and he guided his hands up to her core and then down again. He followed this upward with wet kisses that paused at her apex, always teasing, brushed his tongue over her bud, and then down again. At her touch the heat of her body radiated down her entire length, igniting them both.

Raven wanted her need to match his. Their shared intimacy became an incredible craving, a longing, and desperation for completion. Their joint lust was insatiable. Then his mouth claimed her channel urging her forward in the act of passion until her soft sounds begged him to give her release. Flesh against flesh, the hot tide of passion raged through both of them.

With eagerness Samantha accepted his engorged cock thrusting hard, fast and powerful. She arched beneath him. She wriggled. She moaned. All hot, pliant, glossy, slick and wet liquid heat stunned. At first she whispered his name. In the throes of their heightened desire and ready to climax, she screamed his name. “Raven, Oh, don’t stop. More. I need more.”

Samantha’s fervor overwhelmed until she could stand no more. They tangled arms, hips, legs, lips, and hands in slick motions that traversed their bodies, and each touch seared and enflamed, binding them together as one. Simply divine. They were one molten body, encased in each other, in hunger, in want, and in great need of attainment.

She tightened her inner muscle around him in a glorious welcome. Their love sport was unlike any experienced before. There was more than lust in their joint union. The gentleness gave way to a frenzied longing for release. She begged him for more yet again, and then she crested in fulfillment. When he sensed her orgasm, he pumped in powerful thrusts until he exploded within her flooding her with his seed. She surrendered to his masterful seduction. Time ceased to exist, or was not a consideration at all. They’d both waited too long for this satisfaction.

When he moved off her, drenched, exhausted and shaken by the propensity of their lust-filled ardor, she saw the shimmer of his wet cock, slick with her glistening essence, pulled him down to her again, and pressed her breasts to his chest.

Breathless, it started all over again, a delirium with a sizable portion of oblivion matched with insanity.

“I do believe I am excited at the naked sight of you with just your stockings and slippers. I will keep that in mind for the future.”

After they rested, she alongside him in his arms, the candles flickered and she nuzzled his neck. “Your chest does not hurt? I’ve tried to be careful.”

“I’m fine. Do I take it you want more, my hungry wanton?” Raven kissed the top of her crown and savored the scent of her hair, that, in and of itself, always tantalized. Who could explain the euphoria of the moment in each other’s arms?

“Yes,” she said in a soft moan. “I want to ride you.”

Amused, he asked, “You’re serious?”

She riddled him with kisses, while he moved her on top of him with ease.

“What do I do?”

“First, you will have to arouse me again. Can you manage that?” He laughed in such a seductive tone. “Knees down on the bed, legs behind you. When I am firm, arch backward and move back and forth on my cock. Place your hands on the calves of your legs, then lean forward to me so that your breasts are just near enough my lips to allow me to suckle.”

His hard shaft was now between them and with ease he raised her body just enough to impale her fully as she rocked.

“Raven, this feels decadent,” eyelids barely open, passion rising in her like the hottest fire.

She lowered her breast enough to let his teeth graze her taut nipple.

“Now for the other one, for I can show no favoritism.”

“Raven, I can’t wait anymore.”

“Just let your body sing to you. You’ll know what to do.” He arched his body and she started a mutual rhythm, each thrust stronger than the one before. His hands tightened around her bottom. “Close your eyes. Pretend you’re riding a horse. Let the moment take and guide you,” his raspy voice growled. She rode him faster and faster until quick movements hastened the turbulence of passion swirling around her in the raw act of possession.

She threw her head back. His breathing labored, and his body bucked in glorious ecstasy.

Raven turned them both over, with Samantha still impaled by him. He kissed her lips, nose, and cheeks until…until…he could stand no more. “Come with me, my love. Come. Come. Share paradise with me.”

In response to her decadent scream, he roared in reply. The universe washed over them; the world would never be the same again. He ground into her and coaxed another orgasm.

“Oh my God,” she sighed in pleasant exhaustion.

“No, Samantha, I’m not a God. I’m just a besotted husband who has dreamed of this every night for almost four weeks. Get used to it, love. It will only get better with practice.”

After long moments, Raven rose up and cleansed himself. Then he retrieved a clean cloth and did the same to her. He covered them with the soft down comforter. “Rest in my arms. I didn’t hurt you, did I? The babe is well?”

“Yes, husband. The babe and I are more than well.”