Page 53 of A Rescue by the Rakish Duke
Slowly, almost reverently, he began to move inside her. Each thrust seemed to touch a hidden nerve ending merely waiting to be explored by him. Only him.
Gwendoline’s breath came in short gasps, her hips rising to meet his as he set a steady rhythm. The sting she felt was fading, only to be replaced by pleasure. The heat building between them was unbearable, yet she never wanted it to end. She remembered begging for release.
What was she thinking?
“You feel incredible wrapped around me like a glove,” Damian groaned, his voice strained as he fought to maintain control. His hips continued to move. “I can’t get enough of you.”
His praise stoked her desire further. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as she hugged him tightly with her arms. They were one. Truly one.
They said marriage was about the coming together of a man and a woman, but the consummation confirmed it. This was what they were talking about. Why duels were fought. Why ballads were written.
The sensations were overwhelming. Gwendoline could see sparks in the corners of her vision. Each movement sent pleasure through her entire body.
Could she have felt the same with another man? No, it could only be Damian. He was inside her, pumping deeper and becoming part of her. Yet, it was still his gaze—his tenderness—that almost brought her to tears.
As his thrusts quickened, she knew they were racing toward something—a goal that she had not yet achieved – not like this, anyway. She clung to him, their sweat mingling while her cries of pleasure blended perfectly with his guttural groans.
With every thrust, he was pushing something in here. A button. A nerve. What did they say about these things? She didn’t care.
Then, it finally happened.
Even with her eyes wide open, she couldn’t see. She must have blacked out. But no, every nerve ending exploded. Her backarched off the rug. Her hard nipples pressed against his chest. Each little movement and sensation was a trigger—a domino in a series that had been toppled at one end.
And then, a wave of ecstasy crashed over her.
She shattered in his arms. Her body convulsed around him, her cries echoing in the stillness of the room.
Damian followed soon after, his thrusts becoming erratic as he reached his climax. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breaths ragged as he spilled his seed inside her.
They stayed like that for a while, their bodies entwined and clinging to each other, reveling in the violent aftershocks.
Was this making love?
Would it be like this all the time?
Even as their breaths evened out, Damian didn’t pull out. Instead, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his expression softer than she had ever seen it before.
“You’re mine,” he declared possessively. “Remember that, Gwen.”
He didn’t let her respond. Instead, he took her mouth in another passionate kiss. Tender and demanding.
Gwendoline realized that summed up his character. When his mouth descended to suck on a breast leisurely, she knew the night was not over. Not when she felt herself stir again. Ready for him.
She couldn’t understand how passion could be so quickly reignited, but she was not complaining. The night was far from over, and neither of them was ready to let go.
What does this mean for us?
The question hung over Gwendoline even as their bodies moved in sync once more, more urgent than the storm outside.
Chapter Fifteen
Sunlight filtered through the broken window slats, illuminating the lovers within.
Damian was the first to stir. He frowned at the unfamiliar weight on his biceps but soon realized it was Gwendoline. His face softened, and his body relaxed again. He felt well rested. Calm. Satiated.
Gwendoline was sleeping soundly, her hair fanned out on his arm. Her eyelashes grazed her cheeks, and her lips were slightly parted. Damian had never seen her so peaceful and so pliant. He couldn’t help but smile.
But as soon as he realized what he was doing, he took a deep breath and schooled his features.
