“Yes?”
“What’s the matter? I saw that look. Did I say something wrong?”
“I don’t want to go slowly,” she blurted. She swatted at Ben playfully when his chest puffed out and pure male pride beamed across his face. She knew he did it in jest. She lunged forward, knocking him backwards. He caught her and rolled them, so she reclined on her back. “Seven years was slow enough.”
“And if I wish to savor every moment of this?”
“Then do. But don’t let me grow old in the meantime.”
“You are a cheeky little one.” Ben slipped off his underpants before reaching beneath her and squeezing her backside. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts into his chest as she moaned. His other hand squeezed one as he brought his tongue to her nipple. He circled and flicked, eliciting one moan after another. While he focused on increasing her arousal, it distracted him until he felt her hand wrap around his length. Her hand was snug without being painful since his cock was achingly full. He peered into her eyes, and he saw her uncertainty. In a near whisper, he said, “Stroke up and down.”
As her hand moved with caution at first, he returned his attention to her breasts. When he groaned and thrust into her hand, she grew more daring, experimenting with speed and pressure. Ben fought the need for release, refusing to allow their first time to end abruptly and prematurely. The hand that cupped her bottom swept over her hip and dove between her thighs. She’d parted them to allow him to rest between herlegs. His fingers danced along her petals and dipped into her entrance. This groan was manly pride, feeling how much his bride desired him.
“I’m still hungry.” Ben crawled backward until he could rest his shoulders between her coffee-hued legs. He’d noticed her skin was slightly lighter under her clothing, but it was still the most magnificent shade of brown he’d ever seen. It reminded him of the aromatic beverage. He already knew he would enjoy the taste of his wife far more than the potent brew. His tongue laved her from stem to stern. A surprised squeal filled his ears as she squirmed, still not used not the sensation. But he was persistent, and it wasn’t long before she clenched his hair, pressing his face to her mons.
His teeth grazed over her nub as his tongue slipped inside. There was no sensation to which she could compare. It was unlike anything else. She settled until Ben sucked on her pearl, she nearly came off the ground. Her thighs squeezed around his head until he had to pry her legs away, pressing at the inside of her knees. He continued his ministrations until she felt the familiar tightening. This time, as bliss enveloped her, she did nothing to keep silent. She noticed each moan and sigh urged Ben to pleasure her more, so she held nothing back as she climaxed.
Ben watched every moment of her release, relishing her taste and the view as her cheeks flushed. Her breasts rose and fell as she panted, tempting him back to them. He eased himself back over her, resting most of his weight on his left forearm beside her head. His right arm merely kept his balance. He kissed her neck and jaw as her legs bracketed him. He reached between them and aligned his sword with her sheath.
“Now, Ben, please.”
“I fear hurting you, Jemma. I’m sorry.”
“I know, but I want this, too.”
Ben nodded. He pressed his mouth to hers, and she could taste herself as he thrust into her. Her moan was not one of pleasure as her body went rigid. The pain radiated, making her fingers and toes curl. Ben did everything he could to remain still, but his cock thought her clenching core was an invitation since she was so tight. He wanted to surge into her over and over but settled for inching his way into her as she relaxed.
“Are you all right, my love?” Ben brushed hair back from her temples as her pain subsided.
“I am now. No warning quite prepares you for that, but it’s over. Now it just feels—strange.” She ginned.
“I shall endeavor to never let it feel strange again and to ensure you wish to do this again.”
“Oh, I’ll want to do it again. I think a cottage of our own shall be a necessity, or everyone in your parents’ household will know I wish to do this morning, noon, and night.”
Ben rocked his hips, circling as he pressed into her fully. She lifted hers to meet each surge. She grasped his backside, pressing him to her, wanting to feel every inch of him within her. They moved together over and over as their desire grew nearly frantic. He pistoned his hips as she pushed her feet into the ground to meet each thrust with her own. As she felt her body approach her release, her nails scored his back.
“Marking me, Wife?” Ben growled.
“I suppose—yes. You’re mine.”
“I am. And you are mine, Jemma. Always. I will never have another, and I will never let you go.”
“Good, because I shall only hold on.”
Their kiss was frenetic as they rushed toward the edge and tumbled over it together. Ben could resist no longer as her quim clenched around him, holding him in place and milking him of his seed. He felt each burst as he called out her name.
“Jem!”
“Ben!” His name ended on a moan that filled the air.
They clung to one another, panting, as Ben rested on his exhausted arm. She pulled him closer, wanting to be chest to chest again. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled so she nestled against his chest. He drew theodhniover her, keeping the cool air from chilling her. Far more time had passed than they realized, the sun having shifted toward the western horizon. They lay together, their fingers drawing lazy patterns over each other’s skin as they stared outside as the setting sun made the snow twinkle, many of the tree limbs still laden with it.
“How do you feel, sweetling?”
“Happy.” Jemma stretched her neck and kissed him.
“Was this a good Christmas?”
