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When he lifted her chemise to her hips, she wondered briefly what he was going to do now. His lips found her core so fast that her body flung back down to the rug before she had a good look at what he was doing. With vigour, he pleasured her with his tongue. It was a different sensation to his fingers, one that had her panting on the rug within seconds.
One hand gripped the rug as the other went to his hair, indulging in holding him to her. She had not known such pleasurable activities were possible, and it seemed Elliot was determined to introduce her to them. When she was a quivering mess, with her legs lifted high, he moved off her and reached for his trousers.
“Please, Elliot,” she begged, wanting to know what it would be like to make love to him. He nodded, showing he understood before undoing his trousers and pushing them down his hips.
Ophelia’s eyes widened, staring in the candlelight as Elliot exposed himself to her. His length was bigger than she had anticipated. She had never known quite what to expect from what she had been told about what happened between a married couple, but she was now filled with an excited anxiousness, one that made her hands quiver as she leaned back down on the rug.
“Trust me?” Elliot whispered to her.
“I trust you.” Ophelia was glad when Elliot moved his lips to hers. The kiss was slow, tender, their lips just moving against one another’s when she felt him at her entrance. He lifted her legs around his hips, preparing her for the moment, then he kissed her harder as he entered her.
The pain was sudden. Ophelia made a muffled sound into their kiss, but to her surprise, Elliot didn’t continue to move. He held himself perfectly still, moving his kisses to her cheeks and across her temple.
“It will pass. I promise, it will pass,” he assured her, then returned his lips to hers. When Ophelia began to feel that pain passing, her hands came up to Elliot’s back. He was so tall above her, so strong that she felt she could anchor herself to him. Gripping his shoulder blades, she urged him on.
“Elliot, please,” she murmured. It was the only signal he needed.
Elliot began to move above her, pleasuring her with his entire body. The first throes of pleasure startled Ophelia. It was a deeper feeling than before and somehow more intense. With their bodies rocking together with each movement of Elliot’s hips, she felt herself begin to climb the heights of pleasure she had just experienced because of his touches.
Elliot supported himself on one hand beside her, and he didn’t hesitate in his rhythm. It only grew faster, prompting Ophelia to lift her legs higher, wanting to know Elliot so much more.
Abruptly, his moaning began to change. It grew deeper, somehow more guttural, then he shifted their position. Rather than leaning over her, he leaned back, so he was settled on his knees, then he held her thighs apart. It made their position more intimate, and she could feel everything as he moved.
Those heights of pleasure began to spiral out of control and as Ophelia was plunged into the euphoria another time, she gripped harder to the rug beneath her, feeling her back arch off it. It only took a second for Elliot to moan louder himself. She felt him end, spilling inside of her, in the warmth that spread between them. Opening her eyes, she watched as he flushed red, a dampening of sweat to the very fringes of his hair, with his lips parted.
They both fell still, staring at one another as they caught their breaths.
“Is it…” She breathed heavily. “Supposed to feel like that?”
“That good?” he asked with a smile. “Oh yes.”
She giggled and lifted a hand to cover her lips, looking at the state the two of them were in, still connected, with her body quivering from the pleasure.
Elliot released her legs. Not removing his body from hers, he leaned down over her and kissed her just once on the lips before brushing back the hair from her face and caressing her cheek. It was a tender touch, one that had Ophelia reaching up and wrapping her arms around his waist, not wanting to let him go just yet.
“I am glad the house is quite large,” Ophelia confessed. “Poor Mrs Mouser, if she had heard us.” Elliot’s laugh vibrated through their connection, making her wriggle in a kind of delight.
“Thank God the house is large, indeed.” He kissed her forehead softly. “So, now you see that not everything has to be done in a bedchamber?”
“So I do, and those other things…” She didn’t know how to talk of them. She certainly didn’t know what words to use.
“I hope you enjoyed them,” he said playfully.
“Was my reaction not obvious enough?”
“Subtle, I’d say,” he teased, then removed his body from hers.
“Ooh.” Ophelia was surprised by the tenderness her body felt as she sat up. She was about to reach for her chemise to cover up when she felt something else being put on her shoulders. It was Elliot’s tailcoat.
“You’re cold,” he said, and took her hands, drawing her to her feet. Ophelia wavered on her feet, feeling dizzy after all they had done. Elliot brought a hand up around her waist, not letting her fall.
“You caught me,” she observed.
“I did, didn’t I? I don’t intend to let you fall, Ophelia.” He reached for their other clothes and threw them across his shoulder. “Well, there is one good thing about having a house without much staff in it.” He reached for the door. “What do you say we find our way to your bedchamber?”
“But… we might be seen!” Ophelia balked at the idea, yet Elliot’s hand in her own was drawing her forward, and she didn’t want to let go of him.
“Not if we’re quick. Ready?” He opened the door, and they made a dash for it.
