Page 37 of The Consolation Prize

This last was too much. The pleasure building inside her suddenly burst, she managed to half choke out his name and then collapsed in his arms, legs akimbo. She wasn’t sure how much later it was that she came out of her daze to find Armand kissing her neck, at least two of his fingers buried deep inside her. It was only then, that she realized how ragged his own breathing was and how insistent the hard thrust of his arousal was underneath her.

“How do my fingers feel?” he asked gruffly, and Una was hard put to know how to answer such a question.

“Deep,” she answered truthfully.

His breathing hitched. “I really want to bury my cock, I mean myself inside you right now, Una. I swear I’ll be gentle this time, princess.”

She was oddly touched that he kept trying to moderate his speech even in such moments, though she really would have to speak to him about the “princess” thing. “Yes, she agreed. “I mean, of course.”

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she was swept up into his arms and carried over to the bed. He lay her down on the mattress width ways rather than lengthways, and while she lay there catching her breath, she heard him swiftly stripping off his braies. The next thing she knew, his naked body was above hers, though he kept his weight off her with his arms.

“You did that last time, too,” she said in a rush of confidences. “You were careful not to crush me, I mean.” At least until after he’d had his way, Una remembered, when he’d collapsed on top of her like a fallen oak.

“Well, that’s something,” he muttered. “Open your legs now, sweetheart.” She did so, admittedly with some trepidation. Still, it felt different this time. Armand’s fingers were between her legs again. “You’re so nice and wet, princess,” he whispered. “I can’t wait.”

“You—you said it was good last time,” she blurted.

His eyes met hers. “I did? When I was inside you?”

She nodded and his nostrils flared. “This time I’ll make it good for you too,” he vowed. Again, she nodded and then he was reaching between them to place his manhood at her entrance. His eyes sought hers again. “I’m ready,” she said bravely, and he started to push his way into her in an insistent, but not uncomfortable, slide. She could only suppose her wetness was facilitating his entrance this time.

When he was halfway in, Una braced herself for the brutal thrust that caused so much pain, but to her surprise when it did come, it was not met with a blast of discomfort. Feeling her stiffen, Armand stopped at once.

“It hurts?” he asked.

“No, not at all.” He looked relieved and then thrust again twice more, until his eyes closed, and he gritted his teeth.

“What’s wrong?” Una asked in alarm.

“Nothing,” he grunted. “It just feels really good.”

“Oh.” She gave a slight wriggle to check nothing pinched, but other than the peculiar sensation of fullness, she felt no ill effects.

Armand, however, gave a deep groan. “Una! For the Lord’s sake, I’m hanging on here by a thread.”

Una paused. “What does that mean?”

“It means—uhhhh Gods.” His hips gave what looked to be an involuntary thrust and he braced his hands by her shoulders. “I want to do this, and this, and this,” he groaned, punctuating each phrase with increasingly harder thrusts of his hips. “Until I come. I don’t know how much longer I can hold back. Should I pull out?”

“Pull out?” Una gazed up at him doubtfully. “Last time you just thrust until you collapsed on top of me.”

He blinked at that. “I bet I fucking did,” he said, looking pained. “Wait a minute, I’ll just—”

“No!” Una placed her hands on his shoulders. “All’s well.” She gave him a reassuring smile.

He hesitated. “You’re certain?”

“I am.”

He gave a relieved groan and labored over her, his movements crude and brisk. Una held him tightly, huffing her breath against his throat. She was not precisely disliking it, but it also felt extremely strange. Suddenly, she felt his thumb between her legs, landing on that self-same spot he had lavished with such attention earlier. Una’s closed eyes sprang open. “Oh!” she gasped with surprise.

He gave a satisfied rumble in his throat. “Bring your legs higher. Wrap them around me. Tight.”

Una lifted her legs and crossed them behind Armand’s back. His breathing hitched. “Damn it,” he swore, closing his eyes a second.

“Is that too tight?”

“No,” he grunted. “It’s good. Too good.” She felt him begin to pulse and jerk inside her and then he was slamming his hips against hers again with increasing urgency.