Chapter Twelve
He propped himself up on his elbow so he could look down on her. “First thing I got to ask is, do you have your heart set on being proper?”
“No. I’ve pretty much given that up around you.”
“Good.” Despite the readiness of her reply, he could see she was nervous. Her eyes were huge in her face, and faint lines of tension shadowed her brow. The little lace ruffle at her throat fluttered with her pulse. He reached up and stilled it with one finger before slipping buttons from their holes. No doubt Elizabeth’s nervousness was going to get worse before it got better. The woman did not understand the meaning of the word relax.
“Come here, wife,” he ordered.
“That’s the first time you’ve called me that,” she whispered, wiggling to a more comfortable position under him.
“It is?”
“Yes.”
“That a problem?” Might as well address these worries as they came, he decided as he admired the play of sunlight and shadow over her upper chest. With the tip of his index finger, he traced the line of her right collarbone as it arced away from the hollow of her throat.
She tipped her head back. Goosebumps sprang up along the path of his finger. “Not if I can call you husband.”
He trailed his finger back along the path just taken. When he reached the hollow of her throat, he pressed. Her pulse beat a rapid tattoo beneath his touch. He smiled. “You won’t find any complaint here.”
She said “husband” again. There was a wealth of possession in the tone. He found he liked it. Almost as much as he liked her next words.
“You belong to me.”
“That’s what we promised before God. To cleave unto each other…”
“Forsaking all others,” she completed.
The breeze blew a strand of hair over her chest. It fell forward across her shoulder and caught in the open front of her shirt. He traced its path as it curled down over her breastbone and into the cleavage just visible over the lace edge of her undergarment. “Why am I not surprised you latched onto that part?”
“Wishful thinking?” she offered.
Her breath caught as he pulled her camisole away from her skin and stared at the unfettered fullness of her breasts. He didn’t know whether that catch was from embarrassment or excitement. He didn’t really care. The white curves with their rose colored tips shivered enticingly with her roughened breathing. As he watched, the nipples crinkled and pulled into a slight pout. He wanted to feel them harden against his tongue.
“More than likely,” he agreed. He released the camisole and looked up. “You settled?”
“I believe so.”
“You have any objections if I kiss you?”
“None I can think of.”
None that she was admitting to, he corrected silently as the tension started in her neck and spread down her body. He sighed, knowing there was no cure for her nervousness but experience. He leaned over. Her eyes closed. He touched his lips to hers. Her brow creased.
The lips under his were rigid. He moved his lips to the corner of her mouth. She kissed the opposite corner of his. He touched the corner of her mouth with his tongue. Her tongue shot out and tapped the corner of his mouth. He pulled back a breath to get a gander at her expression. The crease between her brows indicated high thinking. He sighed.
“Darlin’?”
Her eyes popped open. “What?”
He shook his head. “No need for panic. I just had another question.”
“What?”
He chewed on the best way to address the subject, then decided nothing but the blunt truth was going to get the job done. “You wouldn’t be thinking of memorizing everything I do, would you?”
“Uhm, well, maybe.”
“Don’t get me wrong.” He undid two more buttons on her camisole and spread the material so it was open from chest to waist. “That’d be a great approach if I were teaching you to rope a calf.”
She leapt right into the space left by his delicacy. “That’s exactly how I learned!”
Lord help him, she looked ready to do battle in the middle of his seduction. He worked the little bow free at the waist of her camisole. “And I bet you’re a top-notch roper.”
“Good enough I don’t toss a lariat twice,” she boasted while casting a nervous glance at the amount of skin he was exposing.
He kissed the end of her nose. Mutiny dissolved to indignation. “Stay with me here because this is important.”
From the dead-on way she met his gaze, it was clear he had her attention.
“Romancing a woman, well, that’s a touchy subject for a man.”
“It is?”
He ran his finger down the length of her nose, his heart stumbling over a slight catch when her eyes crossed trying to follow his movement. “Uh-huh.”
He smoothed her right eyebrow and then moved to the left. “A man has a lot on his mind the first time he lays down with a woman.”
“Are you saying you’re feeling apprehensive?”
He could have sighed with relief that she was making it so easy for him. “Sure enough, I’m getting all het up thinking about how you’re studying every move I make.”
“But how am I supposed to learn?”
“Let me try to explain it this way. Will you agree that a good teacher is confident in what they’re teaching?”
Her “yes” was cautious.
“Well, truth is, I’m not confident enough about what you like to teach you what I like.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Oh, no, he thought. They weren’t getting into an argument now! “It does, and before you argue with me, let me remind you that I’m the one with the experience.”
“You just said that you didn’t have any.”
He grit his teeth. “With you,” he clarified. “I don’t have experience with you and, as every woman is different, I’m a bit unsure here.”
“Too unsure to teach?” The fingers on his forearm clenched as she exclaimed, “Then what are we going to do?”
It was as close to a wail as he’d ever heard her utter.
“I was kind of hoping, this time out, you could just lie there and let me know what feels good.”
“To me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But I’m supposed to be making it good for you!”
He cupped her cheek in his hand. “Remember in the barn, you moaned when I kissed your neck?”
Her blush started at her breastbone and spread outward to her face and, intriguingly, her nipples. “Yes.”
He couldn’t resist tracing a reverse path, following the curve of her cheek down the length of her throat, over the planes of her chest and then up the rise of her breast until the tip of his finger rested against the tip of her nipple. “I felt ten feet tall then.”
“And that would make it good for you?” She stared at where his finger met her flesh.
“This one you’re flat out going to have to trust me on.” Using his nail, he gently scraped the plump nipple, rewarding her flinch and gasp with a repeat caress. “Nothing makes a man feel better than when a woman feels good at his touch.”
“But later?” Her lower lip sucked in between her teeth as he let his fingertip hover over her expectant flesh.
“Later, I’ll take great pleasure in teaching you to make me howl.” Her nipple rose fat and sassy from her breast, vibrating with the tension with which she held still.
He flicked it lightly in reward for its impudence. Her entire body jerked up in response.
“Providing…” he drawled as if she hadn’t just come off the blanket at his touch.
She looped her arms around his neck and arched her torso toward his hand. “Providing?”
“Providing, this time, you relax enough to let me make you howl.”
She frowned. “I don’t think ladies howl.”
He smiled, watching the pulse in her throat do some fast-stepping as he, slowly, deliberately took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He milked it rhythmically as he settled his chest over hers. “You will, darlin’. You will.”
He brushed her mouth with his. “Do you like that?” he asked.
She frowned, as serious as a preacher confronting the damned. “It’s all right.”
He stroked his tongue over her closed lips, keeping the touch featherlight. She jerked her head back.
“No?”
She hesitated, then admitted, “That felt funny.”
“Funny good?” While she thought about the answer, he increased the pressure and speed with which he teased her breast. He wanted her nipples aching and sensitive to his slightest touch.
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s find out then.” He did it again.
She jerked but, this time, pressed closer rather than away.
“Good?” he asked against her lips.
Her “yes” was a sigh.
He placed his mouth on hers, rubbing lightly against her contours. He’d never set out to seduce a woman more deliberately. He’d never had the need, but then, he’d never known what he was missing. Breaking through Elizabeth’s defenses was a delicious game of cat and mouse. Her honesty jolted his senses.
There was no coy trying-to-please. He’d asked her to be honest and she was brutally so. She found a no-nonsense surge of his tongue past the barrier of her lips ‘unsavory’ to use her word, but if he preceded it with a few tentative forays, her toes curled against his thigh and her chest rose against his. Clearly, she was a woman who wanted to be seduced.
He held back his need, striving for gentle, but her sensual honesty all but destroyed his good intentions. Never had he had a woman who enjoyed his touch so much. Never had he had a woman so open. That it was his wife who rose to the touch of his hand on her breast was an aphrodisiac in itself.
She was his and no other’s. Only his hands would touch her. Only his lips would coax hers into a mating dance. Only his thighs would settle between hers. Only his lips would wrest a broken cry from her throat when he nipped her neck. Only he would know he could reduce her to sobbing his name by teasing, then suckling her pert nipples. Only he would hear the moaning scream she issued when he nipped one with his teeth. Only he would be gifted with the sweet dampness between her thighs when he delicately explored her silken folds.
The scent of her arousal surrounded him. He slid his hand down her waist. Over her hip. Between her thighs. He found her swollen. Wet. Hungry. For him. She was his. Totally and completely his. By God’s word and her own choice. To a man who’d grown up with nothing, she was his own personal paradise. For however long he could hold her, he would, milking every drop of pleasure from their time together.
He shifted his position so he could reach her other breast. The scent of evergreen rose up to surround them as his elbow dug into the spongy ground. He pulled his hand reluctantly from between her thighs. Her juices clung to his fingers, mingling with the scent of nature. She had the ripest, most succulent nipples when aroused. They perched atop her breasts begging for his tongue, his teeth. His attention.
He didn’t make her wait. He spread her thick cream onto her nipple until it glistened a deep rose in the sunshine. With his thumb, he tested her slickness, her readiness. He replaced his finger with his mouth, gently at first, scraping his teeth over the turgid bud, pressing harder as her flavor exploded through his mouth and her hips rose to his touch.
He struggled to keep his approach gentle as he delved between her thighs, seeking the swollen bud of her clit. He coaxed it out of its protective cover with pulses of his fingers that exactly matched the rhythmic suckling of her breast. When it pushed, satin smooth and proud, against his fingers, when her hands dragged his head against her straining breasts, he pinched it hard and strong. Her strangled scream confirmed something else for him. While she liked the gentle approach at first, when aroused, she wanted him to push her to the limit. To take her. To make her his anyway he wanted. He pinched her clit again and wrested another pleasured scream from her.
“That’s it,” he whispered against her nipple. “Tell me how you like it.”
Her answer was a shaking of her head. He set his teeth to her engorged reddened nipple, letting her feel their edge. Her hips thrust in unconscious demand. Asa bit down gently, and she froze. Even her breathing stopped. Against his hand, her pussy clenched and wept. Her clit, if possible, swelled even fuller. He could feel her pulse against his finger. She was on the verge of an orgasm.
He ground his cock beneath him. The pain took the edge off his pending release.
“Not yet, darlin’, not yet.”
Elizabeth opened her eyes. And then promptly closed them. She struggled to get air into her lungs as her body coiled from the inside out, tighter and tighter. She wanted, needed him to continue what he was doing. To feel his teeth rake her flesh, to feel his fingers wrestling that surge of sensation from her clit, but he was just holding still, promising everything but doing nothing. She couldn’t stand it.
“Open your eyes,” he ordered.
She did, seeing nothing but a blinding flash of sunlight.
“Look.” His voice was a hoarse grating of sound as he tapped her breast. She did as ordered. Watching as his mouth encompassed her breast. Feeling the suction as he worked his way back to her tip. The jolt of lightning that blazed into pleasure when he nipped her, forced a cry from her throat. As he did with every other sound she made, he smiled. The pleasure on his face left no doubt that she was making him happy.
With the tip of his tongue, he soothed the point of her nipple. To her disappointment, she felt nothing. She wanted the fire she’d felt before. The propriety-stealing pleasure he’d taught her to like. She curled her fingers in his hair. As before, the cool strands soothed her overheated flesh.
“Do it right.”
She couldn’t believe it was her voice huskily ordering him.
His answering smile was feral. His face hard with desire. A sensible woman would have been afraid. She was discovering she wasn’t the least sensible because she tugged his hair and repeated her demand, horrified as soon as the words left her mouth. Asa didn’t share her reaction. Instead, he threw back his head and laughed.
His “Ah, darlin, you’re one in a million” was a balm to her conscience. She only had time for a deep breath before he made love to her, holding nothing back. And she adored it. He let her feel his teeth, nipping and scraping gently in an erotic dance of claiming that was as elemental as her response. The force of which started a quiver of fear.
“Asa?”
“Oh God, darlin’, don’t be pulling back now.” His cock nudged her thigh as he shifted position.
“I don’t know.” She wanted to tell him what she was feeling inside, but she couldn’t find the words. Not now when her body was clamoring for appeasement.
“I do, darlin’, and, right now, I’m a very happy man.”
“But no one told me…”
He kissed the side of her neck, nipping her flesh and sending shudders of pleasure down her spine. “How could they know you’re one-in-a-million?”
“You don’t mind?”
“Darlin’, you’ve got me so fair to bursting, I’m afraid of embarrassing myself.”
“Where?”
He took her hand and slid it down his body. “Here.”
He closed her fingers around his manhood. Beneath her palm, he throbbed with energy. So much energy, it was amazing. She propped herself up on her elbow and curled her fingers around him, surprised as always by his size. His strength. Her fingers didn’t meet. She measured him from shaft to tip. She doubted she could hold him with both her hands. Especially at the base. He was much wider there than he was at the top, though she doubted her fingers could meet around him even there. He flexed in her grip as she squeezed experimentally.
“Easy there.”
Above her, his weight shifted back and away, giving her more freedom. She kissed the flat male nipple that was suddenly within reach. His manhood jerked in her grasp as she did, surging with life. Enthusiasm.
She explored the hard-soft flesh under her command. He moaned and arched his hips. He slid through her fingers. She retreated to the tip, feeling him jerk and shudder as she did. He liked this, she decided, glancing at his face and seeing the deep lines carved there. She swirled her fingers around the top, gauging the different shape and texture. He caught her hand in his, his expression one of anguish.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“There are certain things about a man’s body,” he broke off, clearly torn before admitting, “I’m pretty excited.”
She pondered that for a moment. Then squeezed gently. He moaned and jerked her hand free. “You’re ready,” she deduced.
His chuckle was a raspy shadow of its normal deep-voiced self. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
She flopped to her back and spread her legs. “So am I.”
He rolled onto one elbow and shook his head, frustrating her. “Not yet, you’re not.”
If her “Why not?” was petulant, he had no one but himself to blame, she decided, blinking against the sunlight streaming through the pine boughs.
“Truth is, darlin’, I’m enjoying the getting ready part too much to give it up just yet.”
“You are?” She wished she could see his expression clearly, but backlit by the sun as he was, it was impossible.
“Yes. Now, why don’t you bring those pretty breasts back here and I’ll show you how much.”
She didn’t think about hesitating. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she arched her back in compliance.
“Lord, you’re something,” he murmured, before sliding his hand under her breast. Cupping it in his callused palm, he urged her flesh into his mouth. When he started to suckle, he settled in, not giving her any time to think. No respite in which to do anything more than ride the waves of pleasure he created. The tension inside her built to near exploding, until he slipped his hand between her thighs to probe gently.
The tip of his finger slid into her with indecent ease when she moved her hips. The feeling was as sublime. “Am I supposed to be like this?”
He paused. “Like what?”
“Sooo…wet,” for lack of a better word.
He stroked between her legs again. She fought the urge to move against his hand. “You mean here?”
“Yes.”
“Oh yeah,” he sighed and dropped his forehead to hers. His fingers penetrated deeper as he explained, “A woman’s body prepares itself for a man’s that way. If it didn’t, it would hurt you when I come inside.”
“It didn’t hurt last time.” She shifted her hips. His finger felt strange inside her, soothing yet irritating at the same time.
“Well, last time, a whole lot of things weren’t done right.” He stilled her hips with his forearm. He pushed harder. She felt the resistance and the release as his finger slid knuckle-deep into her pussy.
“Darlin, I want you to relax.”
“I am.”
Another finger prodded her pussy. “Here.”
She buried her face in his neck, bumping his nose along the way. “Oh God.”
She placed her hands on his chest.
“Just concentrate on my fingers and relax.”
He pushed against her again. After an initial resistance, her flesh softened and then relaxed. His second finger sank to the first knuckle before stopping.
She concentrated on the feelings that kept shooting through her. Not as hard as when he’d been kissing her breasts, but still nice.
He fucked her with the tips of his fingers for a minute, slowly increasing the pace, the friction. She found herself spreading her thighs and lifting her hips. His second finger slid to the second knuckle. She now had two fingers inside her pussy, pushing and pulling at her intimate flesh, sparking sensation in areas she didn’t even know had nerves.
He smiled. “That’s it,” he whispered against her neck. The palm of the arm he was bracing himself up with flattened across her stomach, just over her pubic bone. He pressed down. Immobilizing her hips. The pressure on her pussy increased. A steady demand for entrance.
“No, don’t tense up,” he whispered. “Just relax.”
She forced herself to unclench her fists. The pressure increased to near pain.
“Easy, darlin’, just a little more.” There was a sudden give and an incredible feeling of fullness.
He now had two fingers completely inside her. It wasn’t comfortable. She tried to shift away.
He pulled his fingers out before forging them back in. “Damn, darlin’, you’re tight.” When they were seated to the hilt, he pressed harder, almost convulsively probing for more.
“Am I supposed to be?”
He kissed her quickly as if to shut her up. “You’re perfect, darlin’. Just perfect.”
He pulled his fingers all the way out before forging back in again. The feeling was strange, not quite painful, but on the edge. The third time he didn’t pause before reinserting them. He just fucked her hard and steady, and relentlessly. Her pussy burned with the friction. A tingling breathless shiver of sensation started at her toes and snaked over her body, making her hair stand on end.
“Asa?”
“Just relax,” he ordered again.
She didn’t have any choice. He had her pinioned. He paused on the next withdrawal, then he was back, and there was more than before.
“Asa! That hurts.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry. He sounded driven. Desperate. He pushed again. Harder. She gasped at the bite of pain and pleasure that rolled over her as he managed to wedge three fingers into her pussy.
“Damn. You haven’t taken…” He bit off whatever he was going to say. His voice was rough and gravelly as he asked, “Is it too much? Can you take more?”
There was no doubt he needed her to take more. She felt overstretched and too full, and her pussy burned where it struggled to accommodate him, but a more primitive part of her enjoyed it. Wanted more. Wanted to see exactly how much she could take.
The upward thrust of his fingers made her moan, as her sensitive tissue clasped and clung to his fingers.
“Easy now. I can fix it.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he was sliding down her body. His hands stayed where they were, but his mouth moved scandalously low. She grabbed his hair and tugged.
“Leave be, Elizabeth.”
“But?”
“Trust me, darlin’. You’ll like this.”
She already knew she liked this, but she wasn’t sure it was okay to be doing it in the open. That was before she felt the hot, moist pressure of his tongue on her over-stimulated clit. Fire streaked through her loins. She bit her lips and gasped.
His chuckle vibrated on her clit, reverberating through her body. Her hands no longer tugged. They pressed his mouth closer. He responded by lashing her with his tongue, and then gently capturing her aching, hungry bud with his teeth. When she was writhing, he pushed with his fingers. The pain was nothing compared with the pleasure.
“That’s it,” he encouraged through the lust boiling through her. “Open for me, darlin’.”
He stretched her wider, then slid his fingers free. She felt bereft. Empty. Aching.
His teeth and tongue were relentless on her clit as his fingers were merciless on her pussy. He kept her poised there, empty and aching, before he pressed his fingers against her again and began a steady fuck. She took all three fingers to the hilt, hard and deep over and over, her pussy struggling to accommodate the demands he made on it while her body struggled to control the maelstrom of sensation overwhelming her. There was no escaping the feelings that built. She gasped, begged, but he didn’t stop. He merely drove her higher until her body arched like a tightly strung bow. One more lash of his tongue, one more thrust of his fingers and she knew she’d shatter forever, never to be the same again.
He pulled back, depriving her of all sensation.
“Asa!” It was a sob. A plea for mercy. She wiggled against him.
“Hold on,” he ordered, pushing her hips down with his arm.
He was not going to leave her like this!
“No more teasing,” she demanded, struggling to renew contact with his body.
“I’ve got something better if you’d just stop fighting me,” he growled.
Something hard and warm brushed her starving pussy. Lightning streaked up her nerve endings. She twisted upwards. “Oh, yes!”
“Jesus!” He sounded like he was laughing and moaning at the same time. His hands on her hips held her still. His fingers grazed that sensitive spot as he spread her, and then there was a delightful pressure against her openly weeping pussy.
“Oh, yes,” she sighed again, closing her eyes against the sunlight, wanting to concentrate on the feeling of him against her. Hot. Hard. Huge and eager.
“Put your arms around me.” The order was a harsh imitation of sound.
She obeyed immediately. He reached between their bodies. His fingers took over where his tongue had left off, gliding over her clit, circling, teasing. It was too much. Her whole body exploded and then re-centered on that one central point of bliss. She sobbed, the pleasure was so beautiful, and over and over her body spasmed. Each throb had her whole concentration until the last one dropped off. So caught up in her bliss, she barely noticed the pain as Asa breached her pussy with the wide head of his cock.
She opened her eyes. “That was heavenly,” she whispered as the aftershocks vibrated through her.
“Glad to be of service.” The lightness of his tone was belied by the strain in his expression. Sweat beaded his brow. She felt the trembling in his arms. The throbbing of his body in hers.
“Asa?”
“Stay relaxed, Elizabeth.”
“I don’t know if I can,” but she knew she would. For him. For herself. Because she wanted his hard cock. No matter what.
“You can.” He told her, increasing the pressure. “You will.”
He crept in a bit more. The lining of her pussy pushed against him, gripping and dragging. Sensitizing.
“Why wasn’t it like this before,” she gasped as he bore down on her.
He closed his eyes and groaned as her flesh gave and he sank an inch deeper. “You’re still a virgin, darlin’.”
“But the other night…”
“I’m not one for force.”
She felt his muscles gather as he prepared to push. She caught her breath in preparation. Again the pain. Again the frustration.
“Put your arms back around my neck,” he instructed her.
She looked up at him. There was no doubt he was in agony. “Does it feel good to you?”
“That’s the hell of it, darlin’. Men like it any way it comes, whether the women are enjoying it or not.”
And he felt guilty about that. She saw it in his eyes and understood he was a giving man, but she didn’t want to be a taking woman. She wanted this thing between them to be the same as everything else. Open. Honest. She arched her breasts toward his mouth.
He bent and suckled her. By the second, his actions grew rougher, more primitive, dragging her along until he was alternately biting and sucking. She could feel the tension pounding beneath his skin, shaking his muscles, dampening his flesh with perspiration. An equally primitive reaction built in her. She felt him pulsing just inside her. It wasn’t enough. She didn’t want to be something precious and worshipped. She wanted to be his.
She took the decision out of his hands. She braced her feet under her hips and arched upward, impaling herself, biting her lip against a cry.
Like glass facing the blow of a hammer, her action shattered his control. As if he couldn’t stand anymore. He growled low in his throat, sank his fingers deep into her hips and pulled. She felt him tear deep. Before she could register any pain, he’d pulled out and was surging anew. On the third thrust, she thought he’d break her in two. On the fourth, she didn’t care.
She twisted, whether to get closer or away, she didn’t know. This was too wild. Too elemental. It excited and scared her at the same time.
“Mine,” he growled as he thrust deeply into her, his hips slamming against hers, his mouth working her breasts.
“Yes.” A growl rose in her own throat.
He lifted her feet until her ankles were hooked around his hips. “Mine,” he growled again, holding himself against her as she worked to get the last inches of his hard cock inside her. She couldn’t and the frustration almost had her crying.
He took the initiative out of her hands. He slid his arms under her thighs and flipped her legs over his shoulders. He walked his hands up her side. The air was filled with the scent of their lovemaking and the spruce when she lay completely open and vulnerable to his touch. She could do nothing but receive him as he drove his cock into her pussy, grinding his hips against her clit on the downstroke, forcing her to take the last two inches, ignoring her gasps when she thought she couldn’t, sharing her exultation when she, finally, finally did. Then he, as she lay impossibly stretched beneath him trapped between heaven and hell, he caught her gaze with his. She couldn’t look away as he said, “Mine.” As if to prove it, he pulled all the way out. And in one, mind-boggling lunge, re-seated himself to the hilt.
The air left her body, her nerves screamed, and everything in her pulled up tight. With quiet, deliberate, ruthless persistence, he did it again, but this time when he growled “mine”, she confirmed it, her body jerking in helpless spasms as reality shattered and she gave herself over to his possession as her orgasm took her. As if her climax triggered his, Asa’s control snapped. His cock jerked within her, caressing her walls anew as spurt after spurt of his hot seed filled her eager pussy. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she held him tightly while his body shuddered and emptied into hers.
For the first time in her life, she felt like she belonged.
* * * * *
“Who’d have thought Miss Prim Elizabeth Coyote was such a wildcat in bed?” Asa mused with deep contentment minutes or hours later.
She was draped across his body. Warm sunlight heating her skin. Completely boneless. Sated. “That’s Elizabeth MacIntyre,” she corrected into the curve of his neck. He smelled of man and sunshine. She took another deep breath just because.
“So it is.” His fingers played gently with one of her nipples. His toes stroked the bottom of her foot.
Against her thigh, she felt a stirring. She shifted her hips. “Hmmm.”
“Just ignore him,” Asa instructed. “He has no sense.”
She didn’t want to ignore him. She reached between them. “I like him,” she said. And he liked her if the way he swelled at her squeeze was any indication.
“You’re too sore.” It was a halfhearted protest. She loved him for making it.
She eased down until he was in position. “No, I’m not.”
She couldn’t imagine ever being too anything to turn away from her husband.
“I can wait.”
“I can’t.” No matter how she tugged, he wouldn’t roll over. She raised her eyebrow at him. “This isn’t going to work if you don’t do your part.”
He laughed, shook his head, and urged her into a sitting position where she straddled his hips. “You do it,” he ordered. “I’m too tired.”
He wasn’t too tired, she noticed, to stroke her breasts the way that caused the goose bumps to chase up her spine. He did it again, encompassing each breast in one of his big hands, sliding from the fullness of her chest up to the crest with a featherlight touch that had her nipples pulling taut. When he reached the very tip, he lightly, gently grazed her nipples. Just hard enough to get their attention. He did it again. And again. On the fourth pass, she dug her nails into his chest and bit her lip to keep back her cry of protest. She needed more. So much more. She shifted against his cock, experimented, then found just the right angle.
Her breath caught as he pressed against her. She was sore and he was bigger than she remembered.
He stroked the inside of her thighs. “Nice and easy, darlin’.”
His hands glided up until they spread across her hip bones. His thumbs met at the juncture of her thighs. As she eased down, so did his thumbs, until they connected at the swollen nub of her clitoris. She gasped, jerked and pressed. He stroked her clit again, and she felt the natural giving that allowed his cock to slide home. She didn’t take him all, she couldn’t. She was too sore, but it didn’t matter. They moved as one, flesh gliding together, intimate parts brushing in rhythm, asking silent questions, garnering quiet responses. It was a courting. A mating.
It was exquisite, sensual and oh, so gentle, this loving. She cried when the end came and the illusion drifted to reality. She wanted it to last forever. She wanted the emotions to be real.
Asa held her while she cried, offering her his shoulder and asking no questions. Somehow, that made the reality all the more wrenching.