Page 71 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
“Even in a room full of people?” he teased.
“If you wished it,” she said, smiling.
“Even in public? An art gallery, the theater? You would sit upon my lap and let me pleasure you? You would let me slide myself into you and take whatever I wished while you remained quiet and good?”
As he saidgood, Veronica felt the tip of his length against her heat. She held her breath.
“Yes,” she exhaled.
“What a scandalous Duchess you are, lifting your skirts for your husband in public,” he murmured.
They both knew it would not be done; still, the talk of it alone had Veronica growing more aroused until she was begging.
“Please, Henry,” she said, her voice breaking. “Enter me. Fill me. Please.”
“I am not gentle,” he reminded her.
“I have never asked for that,” she shot back. “I have only ever asked foryou.”
Her heart thrummed in her chest as she looked at him, his deep brown eyes searching her face for a hint of hesitance, but there was none.
She was ready for him—had been ready for him for some time now.
“Then you shall have me,” he promised, and he pushed himself into her.
It was slow at first, and Veronica’s hips jumped, as if trying to take more of him. It was as though he was splitting her apart and replacing the space with unbridled pleasure, and Veronica could only cry out with desire. He was so large, and he imposed himself over her. With her hands bound, she could not even wind her fingers through his hair to pull him closer. Her body writhed as he slid in fully, and she felt every inch of his length.
Her insides fluttered around him, and Henry swallowed. Veronica lifted her head enough to kiss his throat, suckling at the skin there in a bid to distract herself while she adjusted. Her breaths came out in harsh gaps as Henry stilled.
“More,” she moaned, lifting her hips to gain more friction. “Please… more.”
He grinned at her as he leaned down to kiss her as he moved his hips, sliding out of her and then right back in. When he sheathed himself back in her, it was with all the force she had been prepared for. His thrusts were rough, and she greedily took everything he gave, moans spilling freely from her mouth. Henry felt demanding, both inside her and around her body. His mouth went from her lips, to her neck, to her shoulders. He lavished kisses along the underside of her arm as their hips moved in tandem.
He slid his hands up her waist and cupped her breasts again, fondling them to the point of sensitivity.
And all the while, Veronica kept her eyes on her husband as pleasure rolled over and over her, drowning her deliciously. He sped up, his hips meeting her backside in hard pounds as he chased his desire within her. As if it was buried so deeply, he had to search for it thoroughly.
Veronica loved it, craved it, welcomed it, and thought she would never feel truly sated after this. She would always seek him. She would never be content with remaining empty after feeling how full he made her.
“H—Henry,” she gasped. “I am—I am nearing—Oh, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Her words caught and died on her tongue as her husband kept thrusting in her.
Sweat shimmered over his muscles, his powerful shoulders, and dampened the hair at the base of his neck.
His own moans spilled into her mouth as he pulled her face up to his to kiss her deeply.
“Come with me,” he told her.
It was an order as he sped up impossibly even faster.
“Henry,” she gasped. “Henry—This… It feels so good. Please don’t stop.”
He hit a place within her core that had her seeing stars, and Veronica positively screamed in pleasure, and Henry’s length twitched in response.
“Come,” he ordered. “Find your pleasure with me.”
He hurriedly untied her hands and slid his fingers through hers, keeping her in the same held position but the slide of his skin against hers made her feel closer to him. He thrust harder—several more times, and Veronica’s back arched in pleasure as she crested that edge.
“Henry!” she cried, soaring through desire.
