Chapter 38 #2
Laurence’s words of praise were husky and muffled as he stroked her and tasted her at the same time. He coaxed every moan from her body by whispering those praises after every shudder and every gasp, until her nerves were trembling and her back was arching in ecstasy yet again.
When her third orgasm crashed through her, she let out a sob. Not one of pain or heartache, but one of a pleasure so overwhelming she could not comprehend what was happening to her body.
“Did I hurt you, angel?” he asked, smoothing the tear on her cheek as he rose and slid his body over hers.
Lost for words, Ellen only shook her head. His haze-filled eyes searched hers for an answer as his manhood pulsed at the entrance of her slick sheath, taunting her.
“Then why do you cry out?” he asked, kissing away another escaped tear.
Ellen drew in a shaky breath.
“I do not know,” she confessed, sliding her leg up to his hip. “I only know that you feel so wonderful that I never want you to stop.”
She blushed at her wanton words, remembering some long-ago lesson that women were not supposed to act so willfully.
“If you do not wish me to stop,” he said, pressing soft kisses over her cheeks and her lips, “then I will not stop. I will do whatever you wish. I am your servant to command.”
Ellen moaned softly at his words, and she drew her arms around his neck to kiss him deeply.
A deep moan rumbled from Laurence’s throat as she skimmed her tongue boldly over his lips, then slid between them, finding his tongue with her own.
Their kiss was intoxicating and slow as Laurence’s hips began to slowly pulse atop hers, sending deep spasms of pleasure through her every time the length of his cock slid against her slick mons.
“I want you to make love to me,” she breathed, her fingers moving down to his muscled shoulders. “I want you to finally make me yours.”
Sparks flew in Laurence’s eyes as she said her bold words, and he gathered his arms under her to cradle her closer.
“Hold on to me,” he commanded huskily as he lined his tip up to her entrance, “and I will take away the pain.”
Before she could ask what he meant, Laurence surged his hips forward, and pain lanced through her core like a lightning bolt. Her name tumbled from Laurence’s lips as he closed his eyes and bowed his head, touching his forehead to hers.
Ellen let out a startled cry as she felt herself stretched by his size, and dug her nails into his shoulder blades. Then his words came.
“My sweet angel,” Laurence huskily murmured as he drew his lips up to her forehead. “My perfect wife. You are my heaven.”
Pain still ebbed in Ellen’s core as he slowly drew himself out, but his words were taking away the sting a little at a time.
“Feel how wet you are for me,” he rasped, inching in another thrust until he was once again buried to the hilt. “Feel how perfectly you were made for me?”
Tears gathered in Ellen’s eyes as she took in a sharp breath and nodded. Even through the pain, she felt the truth of his words.
“Another deep breath, my love,” he coaxed, his thrusts moving a tad faster as the ache in her belly began to fade.
She obeyed, already feeling her taut body beginning to relax and accept him.
“Yes, angel,” Laurence praised, rolling his hips as droplets of sweat erupted down his spine.
His muscles began to shake, his breaths began to move slower and deeper, and it was then Ellen realized something. He was holding back. He was putting her pleasure before his own.
The very thought shooed away the last of her pain, and as Laurence slid back inside her on the next thrust, a moan escaped her lips as the movement was not followed by pain, but by a deep, unique pleasure.
Ellen’s hands slid sensually down the corded muscles of Laurence’s arms as her legs slackened, and she let out a sigh of pleasure as she felt another wave of ecstasy roll through her.
“That is it, my love,” Laurence coaxed, his thrusts moving deeper, longer.
“Laurence,” she moaned, feeling a deep tension start to grow in her lower belly.
Her mind was too blank, too focused on the growing ecstasy for her to conjure words to answer his praise, but Laurence did not seem to mind at all. Instead, he continued to focus only on her pleasure as they made love.
Then, when she felt that new ball of tension in her belly beginning to glimmer and tremble, she began to plead.
“What, sweetheart?” he asked, though he began to move his hips faster, as if he already knew what she needed. “Tell me, tell me what you need.”
“Faster,” was all she could pant as she felt the delicious tension beginning to slide into her veins and shoot down through her fingertips.
Laurence let out a quiet snarl as he obliged, his handsome face a mask of tortured ecstasy.
With no pain left to conquer, Ellen lifted her hips, now meeting his thrusts with her own, and her name poured out in a tumbled moan from his lips.
“God, you are perfect,” he panted, his entire body beginning to tremble beneath her hands.
“I’m…I’m…” Ellen’s mind went blank as she searched for the proper word, and as a star of pleasure exploded through her, her words shifted into an ecstasy-fueled cry.
Laurence’s answering roar of pleasure was loud and deep as he slammed back into her and froze there, their bodies locked for the space of several long, panting breaths.
“I love you.”
Dazed and spent from their lovemaking, Ellen had to put effort into opening her eyes and casting a dreamy smile. She turned in Laurence’s arms where he’d kept her tight to his chest, and studied the sated, sleepy look on her husband’s softly smiling face.
“I love you,” she whispered back, drawing her hand up to his cheek. He turned his head to kiss the heel of her palm, then nuzzled into her touch. She smiled.
“We should get Madalene a gift.”
Laurence’s sleepy smile widened as a chuckle rumbled from her throat, then he bowed his head to meet her lips in a deep kiss.
“I suppose we should,” he agreed once he pulled back. “After she spends a week in London. Away from us. With no nagging. Or interrupting.”
Ellen giggled, nodding.
“A week full of this sounds heavenly,” she sighed, nestling further into his arms.
He raised a single brow as his lips drew into a smirk.
“A week?” he asked, his gaze locked lovingly on hers. “Oh, no, darling. A lifetime.”