Chapter 57 #2
She was not being quiet at all. She waited for him to call her out on her hypocrisy, but he did no such thing, merely applied himself earnestly to the task of driving her out of her right mind. “Oh, Gervaise!” she babbled. “Yes! Oh yes! Don’t stop!”
Nonsensical words fell from her lips that scarcely made sense. She would have thrashed her legs about if he had not got her in such a viselike grip. “S-stop!” she managed to gasp before she lost all ability to speak.
Gervaise lifted his mouth, breathing heavily against her mound. “Stop?” he asked, sounding dazed. “Why?”
“Because…” She gulped, trying to form a coherent sentence. “I want—I want to feel it there. Before, you used your thigh but this time—” She took a deep breath and plunged on. “I want to rub myself against your hard cock.”
Gervaise was very still for a moment. He muttered something against her mound, which sounded like “give me strength,” then hauled himself back up the bed, resettling over her. “Like this?” he rasped, angling his hips, and then moving them so that his shaft dragged over her wet cleft.
“Oh!” Caroline’s eyes closed and she arched up against him, making Gervaise grunt.
It felt even better than she had anticipated.
“Yes, yes, like that,” she encouraged him.
“Keep doing that.” Her ears burned when she heard just how wet she was down there, but it excited rather than shamed her.
Like all his efforts, she thought smugly, clamping her thighs about his hips.
Gervaise was groaning now as he labored above her, sliding his hardness over that sensitive nub that made her vision flicker. Over and over. “Fuck, Caroline,” he wheezed. “You’re so fucking wet. I’m going to come.”
“No!” she burst out in a panic, opening her eyes wide.
He froze. “Why the hell not?”
“Because we’re married now. You have to come inside me,” she insisted. He stared down at her, and suddenly Caroline felt herself come apart with a convulsive shudder and a moan, her every limb turning limp as she was bathed in bliss.
The next thing she knew, Gervaise was saying tersely, “Tell me when.”
“When what?” she asked beatifically. Poor Gervaise was not relaxed at all, she realized sympathetically. Even his jaw was tense. She lifted her hand to it in an absent caress.
“When I can come inside you.”
“Oh, anytime now,” she murmured, smiling up at him.
“Now?” he clarified. She gave a sleepy nod, and his fingers were spreading her cleft, lodging the head of his cock there. “Ready?” She nodded and he started to push inside her, his labored breath on her face.
There was a momentary discomfort, a pinching fullness which had him halting, but the sensation had already passed.
“No, don’t stop. Carry on,” she assured him and he did not need telling twice.
The slow slide continued until she guessed he must be fully lodged inside her.
Then he gave a buck of his hips, and she sucked in her breath in shock, realizing there had been a final inch or two. Now she had taken him fully.
“How’s that?” he asked unevenly.
She assessed the situation. “Yes, that is perfectly acceptable.”
He gave a tortured groan and sought out her lips with his own. “Caroline…” He eased back and looked down at her, as though he could not get enough of the sight of her, even though it caused him pain. “I can’t—I can’t hold back much longer,” he said in a choked voice.
“Then don’t,” she answered simply.
His hips snapped forward and he started moving at a brisk pace. “I won’t last long,” he gritted out. “Just bear with me.”
Caroline watched the various emotions flitting across his face.
They seemed to range from sweet torture to rapture and back again.
She must feel amazing to him, she thought with gratification.
She was a little surprised when he reached down behind her knee, bringing her leg up. “How is this?” he panted.
She opened her mouth to assure him it was fine, when suddenly the angle of his thrusts changed and she had to catch her breath. “Oh! Oh, Gervaise.”
“There?” he asked, redoubling his efforts.
Suddenly his movements all made terrible, awe-inspiring sense.
She felt him everywhere, deep inside her, her heart was full to bursting with him.
Her fingers scrabbled at his shoulders until he caught her hands in his, pinning them to the bed beside her head, threading his fingers through hers.
Suddenly, it was all too much, it overwhelmed her, their laboring bodies, their skin on skin, his burning gaze. Caroline cried out and Gervaise fell forward, burying his face in her neck. She heard his strangled, drawn-out groan. It was somehow loud yet muffled at the same time.
Once she had caught her breath and her thundering heartbeat had evened out, she reached up to pet his hair. “Oh, well done,” she murmured in assurance. “That was very well done.”
He pulled back his head to look at her, then gave a breathless laugh. “Just tell me that you love me,” he wheezed, collapsing onto his back beside her. “I’m begging you at this point.”
“Have I not said so already?” she asked in surprise.
“No. You have not, my stern preceptress.”
“But of course I do, Gervaise. I love you so very, very much.”
He heaved a satisfied sigh and insinuated his arm between her head and the pillow. “Finally,” he said.