Whatever strength once held up her legs seemed to dissolve, and she felt herself leaning heavily on him. But he did not falter, his body as strong as a block of stone.
It was then his fingers trailed lower on her body, from the dip of her navel to tease over the thatch of fiery hair between her thighs. He swept his delicious touch between her thighs, and that familiar pleasure from the Vauxhall fireworks jolted through her. The strength of her knees bled away, and she nearly sagged against him.
“You’re so wet, Hannah.” He secured her against his strong body. “God, I want you so desperately.”
“Take me,” she whispered. “Slake this fever you set in me.”
Lifting her into his arms once more, he carried her to the great bed where he lay her upon the plush blanket, impossibly soft beneath her skin. His gaze lingered on her, taking her in as his fingers worked down the buttons of his waistcoat before shrugging it off. Next came the cravat he unwound from his neck, tied in a Mail Coach Knot, she noticed with a smile. The same as it had been since she’d made the suggestion.
He drew up the hem of his shirt, revealing a rigid band of abdominal muscles that flexed as the fabric slowly unveiled the rest of his powerful torso. Hannah’s mouth went dry.
The only bare chest Hannah had ever seen in her life was that of the stablehand with Lady Alison, and he looked nowhere near as…chiseled as Lucien. He met her gawking stare with a shy smile.
She sat up and reached for him, bringing him toward her, eager to feel the firmness of his hard body against the softness of hers. The sprinkle of hairs at his strong chest rasped against her nipples as he pressed against her, capturing her lips once more.
Now. She wanted him now. Her body writhed beneath him as she parted her thighs to cradle the weight of his body. The silky, hot length of his cock rested over her entrance, and she ground against him in anticipation.
But he did not push into her as the pamphlet said he would. Instead, he kissed her one final time before crawling off her. He did not remove his breeches. Instead, he knelt at the end of the bed where her legs were still slightly parted. His fingers grazed her knees, her thighs, the tender area just before the cleft between her thighs.
A whimper of longing escaped her, eager for the play of his dexterous fingers over her most intimate area.
He leaned over her, his face nearing the cleft between her legs and, watching her, he ran his tongue along the seam of her sex. Pleasure shot through her, stunning her for a moment. Her body acted on instinct and she gripped the blanket as he licked at her once more.
If he were a true lover, he would lick her like a treat.
Heavens! That was what the pamphlet meant.
The sensation was incomparable to anything she had ever experienced, even the stroke of his fingers there. Her entire self prickled with overly heightened nerves, her nipples taut, her breath coming in gasps though she simply lay there, her legs trembling as they strained open against his ministrations.
Something nudged at her center while his tongue wrought the most thrilling delight. She glanced at him as he gently inserted his finger into her entrance, and she moaned, loud and shameless.
“I want you,” she said in a breathy plea. “Please.”
“Not yet,” he murmured as he continued to love her with his mouth and hand.
A tingling sensation wound through her, and a familiar tightness wound through her core. Lucien must have noticed the change in her as well, for his tongue flicked faster, his finger plunging as he tilted her over the edge of the decadent precipice.
Pleasure exploded through her, like the fireworks of Vauxhall Gardens all over again. She cried out, more of a scream if she were being honest, and she didn’t care. Only the pleasure mattered.
Her body trembled with the power of what had wracked through her, and yet that need for Lucien was even more insistent now. One she didn’t entirely understand despite her talk with her mother and with Lucy, but one she knew she could not deny.
Lucien stood once more, his gaze bright with desire beneath his shaggy blond hair. His hands went to his breeches and unbuttoned the fall. Brazenly, Hannah let her stare slide down his carved torso to his cock jutting from his body, hard as her mother had said they became.
Hannah swallowed.
He stepped tentatively toward her as if he was worried that he might frighten her, and shifted over her once more. But he still didn’t immediately attempt to shove inside her. No, he nuzzled against her, kissing first her neck and under her ear, and then capturing her lips until she was squirming beneath him with eager longing.
His hard heat pressed against her sex, and she cried out in anticipation.
Now, finally, he would fulfill what she had been longing for. Now, she would fully be his wife.
Lucien hovered over Hannah for what felt like an eternity. His prick was so swollen that it bordered on painful. Never had he realized he could be brought to the point of such need.
No matter how insistently his desire urged him to claim her hard and fast, he continued to glide his hands over her smooth skin to coax her body into an extreme state of arousal. He ought to have stopped earlier before her climax, so her longing was at its peak.
Except when he felt that telltale tensing of her muscles, he had known he couldn’t draw away. And he was glad he didn’t—the huskiness of her cries still echoed sweetly in his ears. He had brought her great pleasure, and he would never regret that.
Only now, he hoped he did not bring her great pain.
Hannah’s fingers roamed over him as they kissed and teased one another. Her touch traced over the lines of his body with an appreciation that made him proud of the efforts with his body. He had studied philosophy for a good part of his life, and a healthy body was always touted in tandem with a healthy mind. The rigorous routine of daily calisthenics had always been to keep his health in good standing, but now, seeing Hannah’s reaction to him, his efforts would continue in the goal of pleasing his wife as well.
The pitch of her panting told him she was primed once more. He propped himself on his right arm to keep from resting his body weight on her and angled his arousal against her entrance. Even the mere brush of the swollen head of his prick against her slick center was exquisite torment.
He flexed his hips forward, slowly, nudging inside her one careful thrust at a time. The pain and pleasure warred on Hannah’s lovely face. He tried to stop, but she shook her head and arched up against him, ever the one to charge ahead.
His fingers shifted between them to find the little bud of her sex, rolling his fingertip around it. She gasped, and the tension squeezing his cock in an almost painful grip relaxed somewhat.
The next time he gently pushed into her, her lashes fluttered with pleasure. Yes, this was precisely what he had wanted.
She arched up to meet him on his next thrust, and he moved slightly faster. Her breathing shifted, becoming faster, shallower with her delight.
He continued to let his finger work over the sensitive nub while he drove harder into her. Hannah grabbed his shoulders, clinging on, and he knew she was close to her release.
The tightening of his ballocks told him she was not the only one.
It was all he could do to ensure she reached her climax first. But he refused to allow himself to be pleased if she had not been.
He entered her with quick, deep strokes, and she moaned in pleasure against his ear until at last, her body went tight, and her sex squeezed at him, drawing him to orgasm as they both cried out. The power of his release tore through him like something savage, and he yielded to its force, riding the waves that took him higher than ever before and then finally collapsing beside Hannah.