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“Beautiful,” he said.
Spinning them both around, he walked her backwards. Her legs bumped against the bed, and she toppled onto her back. His eager hands unlaced her dress, pulling apart her seams until he discovered her bodice. The manner in which he extracted her breasts nearly ripped apart her bodice. Once he had her breasts exposed, their pert nipples pointing up to the canopy of the four-poster, he lowered his lips onto one and sucked the entirety of her bud into his mouth, nipping it with his teeth. She gasped and writhed.
“Too much?” he asked, lifting his head and staring directly into eyes.
“No,” she said freely. “More, God, more, Elias.”
He flipped her over and dismantled the remaining knots of lacing that protected her body. Only her shift, stockings, and drawers were left; the gown and bodice lay scattered around them, her gloves abandoned somewhere on the floor.
He discarded his jacket, beads of sweat already visible on his brow. The coldness of the room was negligible. It seemed both of them craved a different heat. He unbuttoned the flap of his breeches and allowed his member to spring up.
Still admiring him over her shoulder, she gaped in a ridiculous manner as he fisted it and held it out for her to see. It was huge, or so it appeared. She had not thought how big the appendage could swell; she had been misled. Bent over, she waited for him to spear her.
Elias grasped her drawers and lowered them past the crease of her thighs. She kicked, and the garment flopped down to her knees. She closed her eyes tight shut. This was the moment, the forcing open of her private entrance and the intense feeling of occupation that would follow when he claimed her vulnerable form for himself. It might hurt; she did not really care. Her surrender was worth every second of discomfort if it helped him escape his past. She believed it would take her far away from hers, too.
“You’re so wet. A wet cunt,” he said.
He still had not touched her. Why ever not? What was he waiting for? She knew he would grunt, exert himself back and forth and then spill inside her. But he was taking more time than she had expected.
His two thumbs slid down her spine, over her rump, and into her furrow. The sensation was not rough; it tickled. She giggled unashamedly. What fun this preamble was to the event. He continued to stroke her folds with his fingers, and she wriggled her bottom.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Keep that opening nice and visible for me. Part your legs a little more.”
Jenny splayed her legs in her eagerness to obey him, and the fabric of her drawers ripped along the seams. He chuckled. He hitched her hips up, angling her bottom to the ceiling. She felt the kiss of his thickening bulb between her folds and winced; the thrill of a little pain seemed only to stiffen her nipples, and a wave of pulses raced to the apex of her sex.
Elias entered her and moaned. The slow creep of his shaft inching its way along her wet channel was exhilarating. Maintaining his firm grasp of her buttocks, he drove deeper, and she cried out. The pinch was exquisite and far more endurable than the first time she had felt it.
“Jenny,” he said softly. “Such a gift you have given me.”
She was so pleased, so overwhelmed with joy that she nearly cried. By now her tender passage was full as his shaft stretched her, its head knocking at the farthest point. Down below her navel, she felt him rise inside her. It was painful, and she could not deny that it was a substantial rod, but she was not afraid of him or it. With her fists grasping the bedcover, she stuffed some of it into her mouth and smothered her shrieks. He pounded, thrusting in and out of her, over and over, and not for seconds, but long minutes of incredible, vigorous activity. Then he abruptly halted.
“My cock is bursting to fill you,” he groaned.
Oh, just the words he used made her excited. He hovered by her entrance, an
d she spat out the fabric. “Put it in,” she implored. “Please.”
“If I fuck you to completion, I will try to withdraw,” he said, panting heavily.
“No, don’t. Please, let me feel your heat.” She remembered so clearly how that bloom felt but never had she wanted it more than this night.
“Then I should see your face when you come.” He lifted her bodily off the bed and turned her over.
She watched him strip off his clothes. She had never seen a man completely naked. He had thighs that must have been shaped by hours in the saddle—bulging and banded with muscles. His torso was narrow about the waist and wide around his dainty nipples. Upon seeing his shoulders, she nearly swooned with appreciation at their construction, especially the lines of sinews that formed along his neck and back. The shimmer of sweat served only to highlight his masculinity.
As for her remaining clothes, the shift and drawers were ravished and unwearable, and her stockings wrinkled around her ankles. She swiftly pulled them off and removed the last vestiges of her drawers. She had never been naked either.
He gestured for her to move farther up the bed and crawled up between her legs, planting his hands on either side of her head.
“There,” he said sweetly. “This time, a little slower.”
He peppered her face and neck with kisses, trailed his fingers around her breasts and cupped each arse cheek. Butterflies stormed in her belly as once again he entered her. This time he drove with one stroke from head to hilt, allowing her only a moment to accommodate his cock.
She clung onto his shoulders and arched her back in time to his leisurely thrusts. Then he did something shocking—he used his hand to savour her intimate organ by placing his thumb between his rising body and her wet mound and rubbing the part that ached the most for him.
“Oh, heavens,” she exclaimed.
The spot he had found seemed to be the very epicentre of all of her excitement. While he thrust, harder and harder, he circled the little nub with his fingers.
