Page 25 of Chivalry is Not Dead

“What is not?” he asks, confused as he climbs back on top of me.

“You! That! Have you seen your cock?” I’m panicked. I’ve had penetrative sex before but never with someone so… well-endowed.

He looks down between us where the head is currently resting on my stomach. “It will fit, Penelope. I will make it fit.”

I’ve definitely read about situations like this in books, but I have to admit, I never thought it was something that actually happened. “There’s lube in my top drawer,” I say in reply.

“Lube?”

“Lubricant,” I clarify. “Should help with this.” I gesture toward his general pelvic vicinity.

“Ah, yes,” he replies with a grin. He opens the drawer and withdraws the lube along with a few vibrators. Quirking his eyebrow, he says, “These look fun.”

“Very fun,” I confirm.

Carefully he places the vibrators back in the drawer. “For next time.”

Next time. Yes, we will need to squeeze in as many of these sessions as possible in the next several days. I take the lube from Sanders, applying a generous amount to his dick. As soon as my hand meets his shaft, he exhales sharply, abs contracting deliciously.

“Christ,” he hisses. “Guide me in, Penelope. I will go slow.”

I do as he says, sliding his tip across my center. He cants his hips, gently pushing into me before stopping and letting me take control. I rock slowly and then faster, allowing him to get deeper and deeper. Sanders exercises godslike restraint, not moving while I use his body. After a minute or so, I feel so full that he must be nearly into the hilt.

Glancing down, I see that is absolutely not correct. “Dear gods! Sanders, you’re only halfway in!”

He chuckles, hovering himself close enough to kiss me again. “Relax,” he whispers across my lips between kisses. He brings one hand down to massage my clit as he begins to slowly push in the rest of the way.

There is absolutely no way I won’t combust in the next thirty seconds. He feels fucking amazing—a slight tinge of pain as he stretches me but between the lube and how wet I am, he’s beginning to slide in a perfect rhythm.

“Sanders,” I moan.

“Penelope,” he echoes. “Let go, my love.”

That’s all it takes. He finally pushes into the hilt, and I explode around him. It is, without a doubt, the best orgasm of my life. Our thread nears its breaking point and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to focus on enjoying every single second of orgasmic bliss.

Moments later, Sanders grunts, finding his own release. I open my eyes because I want to see the pleasure on his face, the same ecstasy I feel, and—“Holy shit.”

We’re glowing.

A dull golden light emanates from our skin. A golden light I’ve only ever seen when I perform magic.

We come down from our high and the dull light slowly fades away. When I look to gauge Sanders’ reaction, he’s already staring at me with an awestruck expression.

“What was that?” he asks, still fully sheathed inside of me.

I shake my head. “I have no idea. It’s never happened to me before.”

“Penelope, I⁠—”

“No. Don’t,” I plead, knowing what he’s going to say because I feel it too—both from our bond and in a place deep inside of me that I refuse to access.

His eyes are disappointed but also understanding. We both know the tighter this thread becomes, the more it’s going to hurt when it inevitably has to snap. Sanders respects my wishes and doesn’t finish his sentence. He does, however, give me one last deep kiss before pulling out and flopping on the bed next to me.

We get cleaned up and spend the rest of the night snuggled together in companionable silence until we both fall into fitful sleep.

14

I grow more afraid the closer the solstice gets. She has shown me that the life I was living was no life at all.