Page 72 of Yearning

She touched his chest. “I don’t need it at all. My pleasure is all concentrated here.” And she showed him, touching herself, brazen, as she stroked the sensitive part at the top of her sex. “Inside me, it’s not as intense.”

He nodded, furrowing his brow.

“But if it would feel good for you, I would like it inside me.” She could not believe she had said that aloud. She was embarrassed, but she did not care. She needed him to understand. “It would be nice to be connected, and I think it would… it is very thick, and I think that is good.”

“Is it?” He was still worried.

“You can please me easily without it,” she said. “But I wish to please you. I wish to be close to you. I wish…” She decided to stop talking and to push his small clothes out of the way.

He let out another noise, a tattered sound.

Now, she had him in both of her hands, teasing him and giving him gentle squeezes. She was curious. “Does it… can I make you reach a climax?

“Yes,” he panted.

“Does… can it… something comes out of it?”

He laughed, kissing her temple. “Sometimes, not always. Sometimes, it’s sort of a ripple. It feels very nice, even so. It isn’t as easy to reach as it was before, but I can. And if you would let me…” He groaned again, kissing her cheekbone. His voice came out scoured. “I would like to be inside you, Lizzy. Very much.”

She kissed him. “Then let us put it inside me,” she said, grinning mischievously.

He shuddered against her. And then, he moved, rolling them over, pinning her to the bed, his one hand parting her thigh and then going to find himself and fit himself against her.

She gasped, liking his decisiveness.

He lined himself up in exactly the right spot, and he was very thick, and there was a bit of resistance, and she gasped again and then–

They both cried out in unison as he breached her.

It burned.

She clutched his shoulders as he started to rock against her. “Wait,” she wheezed. “Wait, please, I need… you’re very thick, Fitz. I need a moment to get used to you.”

His nostrils flared. “You would not put this on for my benefit, would you? You are not pretending–”

“Lord, what do you take me for? Why would I pretend that it hurt–”

“It hurts?” He pulled free, throwing himself of her and panted up at the ceiling. He was deflating.

She sat up. What had she done? She grasped him again, firmly, teasing him stiff again. “I want it back now. Please.”

He shook his head at the ceiling, not looking at her.

So, she threw a leg astride him and settled herself there and guided him to her opening and gently, slowly, rocked herself down onto him.

He tipped his head back, swallowing, and she could see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “If you do not need it at all for your pleasure–”

“Hush,” she interrupted. Because… this… oh. He seemed to be so thick that he was stroking her inside, all over, everywhere, and it was stimulating all sorts of places that she had not entirely realized were so sensitive, and she shut her eyes and began to buck against him, letting out little tiny noises that sounded as if she was concentrating, because she was.

She was going to find her own pinnacle this way. She had never been able to do it from a man’s member, and she had not thought it even possible, but it was. She knew not why. Maybe because of how very, very aroused she was. Maybe because of the thickness or the position. She had only done this once with the baron, being atop him, and she had felt too self-conscious to ever wish to do it again. Maybe, though, maybe it was only because it was him. Maybe she had been waiting, all this time, for him.

His hand came up to touch her thigh. Her hip. Her breasts, through her shift, which had fallen down. His voice was a rasp. “You look like some kind of goddess with your head thrown back like that. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and you feel so good gripping me like this.”

“I am going to come,” she informed him, out of breath. “Please do not move. Do nothing at all. Do not ruin this. I am quite close.”

He let out a disbelieving noise, and his hand fell to her hip where he squeezed her.

She was being stretched in the sweetest of ways. There was some kind of glorious tug on the most sensitive part of her, and it was pulsing at her, and she had the thread of it, and she was going right up the staircase towards the top, and she pumped her hips on him, making noises that should have embarrassed her, squeezing her eyes tight, and then she felt herself begin to crest. It was a splash of bright pleasure that suddenly deepened, going deep purple, seeping all through her and she clenched like mad on him as he squeezed and squeezed her thigh.