Page 21 of Married Off by the Duke
“What about our wedding night?”
For the first time, she seriously considered saying yes at the end of their two weeks. If that was the only way he’d finish this, instead of taking her over the precipice again and again, in every conceivable way but the expected one, so be it. She’d marry him and deal with the consequences later.
But Emma wasn’t ready to capitulate quite yet.
“What about it?” she countered. “We’d still have one. It would still be our first time together as a married couple.”
If they married.
“You won’t regret it not being special?”
“It would still be special,” she insisted. “Besides, what if we aren’t compatible that way? Wouldn’t you rather know before we make things permanent?”
“Not…compatible?” he said with evident confusion.
“You are very large. I am not.”
As she said this, Emma hooked one leg around the backs of his thighs. It wouldn’t take very much. A slight shift of his hips, alignment, a single thrust, and her aching curiosity would be satisfied. Perhaps painfully.
Max’s shoulders shook with his chuckle.
“You know how to break a man’s resistance.”
She grinned. “I’m not sensing much resistance, Max.”
He kissed her. She tasted herself on his lips. It wasn’t bad at all. In fact, the intimacy of that kiss sent a thrill through her. The unfamiliar stroke of his head against her sex heightened her anticipation. A strange pressure, a pinch of pain, and then a fullness the likes of which she’d never experienced before. Emma gasped and clutched him. Max grunted.
“I love the way you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Cling to me. Whatever you can grab onto.” He brushed a kiss against her temple, cradling her in his arms. “Are you alright?”
She’d never felt so treasured.
“Mmm. Fine. This is nice, but surely this isn’t all there is to the process?”
His helpless chuckle rumbled through his chest. Emma instantly regretted teasing him, for he slipped out. A protest rose to her lips, but before she could give it voice, he thrust again, and it became a mindless gasp of yes.
This was so much better than she’d imagined. Max repeated the process, still slow, still gentle, even as he picked up speed. Emma’s thighs twinged. Between riding a polo pony and now him, muscles she’d never been aware of before were complaining loudly of soreness.
No matter. She wouldn’t stop this for the world.
“Emma,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Emma, you don’t know how badly I’ve wanted you.”
She did, though. She’d wanted him the same way, though her pride wouldn’t let her admit it, even to herself. Emma gripped his hips between her thighs, tensing in anticipation of the oncoming climax. She could feel it building with each stroke. The wet, rhythmic slapping sound of his body on hers echoed in her ears.
When it hit, she grabbed his buttocks as if to drive him as deep inside her as he could go. Max’s rhythm broke as she shattered around him. He ground out her name through clenched teeth, followed by a litany of filthy words.
“Emma. Emma. Fuck, Emma. Fuck, you’re so good, so tight, so perfect. It feels so good to be inside you. You like coming on my cock, don’t you, my sweet girl.”
Boneless and trembling, Emma inhaled the scent of his skin, memorizing the moment. Yes, she would marry for this.
But would it be like this ever again? Or was it only because it was her first time that it had been so intense?
Max rolled onto his back, threw one arm over his eyes, and tucked her close to his body. Emma pushed up onto her elbow. “Aren’t you going to leave?”
“Do you want me to?”
