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He was raised on one elbow above her, his hand stroking her, his thumb making small half moons over her sensitive flesh while he sank deeper into her with each breath she drew.
“It’s never perfect the first time between new lovers,” he said. “There’s a certain amount of exploration involved. But we’ll learn the way of it. We’ll find our rhythm.”
He stretched her further, and groaned, deep and low in his throat.
She fell back against the pillows, her lips brushing one of the velvety rose petals he’d strewn across his bed for her.
She breathed deeper, consciously relaxing around him.
She bit into the pillow, stifling a cry.
He stopped moving. “Is it too much? I’ll stop, Alice, if you want me to.”
Smoothing her hands down his sweat-slick back, she shook her head. “Keep going.”
He thrust deeper, filling her to bursting. “You’re so beautiful, Alice. I want to stay inside you forever.”
Forever was a long time.
They didn’t have forever.
He moved more swiftly, strong thrusts that pushed her higher on the bed, and stretched her wider.
He dipped his head and closed his lips over her nipple.
His hand slipped out from between their bodies and he sank against her, suckling her breast while he pumped faster.
“Ah... Alice. So. Good.”
She was beginning to agree. Not entirely. But there was the noise of that rushing river, off in the distance, a trickle, a tributary, but somewhere it rushed, strong and loud, beckoning her to follow.
“You’re so quiet, Dimples. Now’s the time to talk. Tell me what you want. Does this feel good?” He moved inside her, angling upward, and touched a place that did feel rather promising.
“Yes.”
He smiled and kissed her cheek, moving inside her faster, angling up more, and her cheeks heated and her body felt flushed, like she had a fever.
It was so very raw and elemental. No wonder people wrote whole treatises on the subject; no wonder they wrapped it in poetry.
“That’s nice, right there,” she said shyly as the rushing noise in her ears grew louder.
“Alice. I need you to come now. I’m not going to last long.”
“I... don’t think I can. I mean... there are signs. But you’d best find your pleasure. I’m not sure how much more of this I can stand.”
It was good but it hurt. And she needed breathing space.
The slide of him inside her grew deeper and more unguarded, and she wrapped her arms around him because even though there was discomfort, there was also an intense closeness.
With a gasp, he withdrew from her completely, holding himself by the base. He lifted her shift out of the way and spilled his seed over her belly.
He collapsed upon her breast, breathing heavily, pressing her into the mattress.
A sudden welling of emotion startled her. Was she... going to cry?
It was the same thought she’d had during their wedding ceremony. The feeling that maybe their union, this pledge with their words, and now their bodies, was supposed to have some deeper meaning, some transformative significance.
Nick didn’t seem troubled by any such thoughts.
