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“Relax and concentrate on kissing me,” he whispered, then claimed her mouth once more.
If his prescriptive kiss was any indication, Timothy was an excellent physician. Soon, the tension in her neck and shoulders eased, replaced by another tension, one low in her belly and between her legs. No longer fearful of the intrusion, she yearned for it and spread her legs wider.
He entered her slowly, carefully, taking the time for her to adjust to him. Patient. Strange, but she thought it fitting and recalled the Latin root of the wordpatient—suffering, enduring. Was that why physicians called those whom they treated patients?
But was Timothy suffering for his patience?
When she opened her eyes, breaking free momentarily from her lust induced haze, she noticed the pulse of Timothy’s jaw and witnessed the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunch with restrained power.
He held back, controlling his desires.
And it was causing him pain to endure.
Participate.
And she would.
She grabbed his firm buttocks and pulled him toward her as hard as she could. “Oh!” she cried, both from surprise and a little burst of pain.
His eyes widened. Much as hers were, she supposed. “Are you all right?” The strain in his voice was palpable. And she loved him all the more for it.
She could form no words, only nod.
“Hold still for a moment and any pain should ease momentarily.”
Try as she might to follow his instruction, she could not. The pressure building within her was too great to resist. Skin against skin, his body so fully linked with hers became more glorious than anything she could have imagined. Tentatively, she moved her hips, uncertain if what she did was correct.
Listen to your body.
Her body liked it.
She grew bolder, moving more aggressively against him. Her nails scraped against his back, her teeth nipped at his neck, her lips searched out his, encouraging him to continue. Before she knew it, he joined her, and they moved together in a rhythm as primitive and natural since the dawn of time.
It felt right.
It felt wonderful.
Exquisite pressure built within in her once again, ready to explode.
And she wept from the joy of it.
CHAPTER 27—RECKONINGS
Fear slithered in Timothy’s stomach at the tear slipping down Priscilla’s cheek, and he slowed his thrusting. He licked the teardrop away with his tongue, then placed tiny kisses over her face. “Are you in pain?”
She shook her head. “No. Don’t stop.”
Buried to the hilt, it would have killed him to stop, but he would have if she’d asked.
Thank God she didn’t.
He wouldn’t last much longer. Heaven knew how he’d managed this far. With one hand braced against the mattress, he used his other to tease the stiff peak of her nipple, while he nibbled at her neck and lips.
Her muscles tightened around him, and he watched her face. He needed to sear the moment in his brain when she found her release. He would relive it many times over.
Not a moment too soon, she threw her head back and screamed, “Timothy!”
As she continued to pulse around him, all he could think about was her. Her screams of passion, the silky softness of her skin, the lemony scent that clung to her hair, the incredible blue of her eyes, the sweetness of her lips that surpassed honey.
