“Oh, yes, exactly like that.”
Sudden, impatient greed clawed at her. She wasn’t entirely certain he would fit, but she wantedthisinside her.Now.“Ripon—”
“Tristan.”
“Tristan,” she repeated. The name of a hero. It suited him. Tonight, she would be his Isolde. “I needyou.”
His gaze, cloudy with desire, met hers. “You’re certain?”
She bit her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded. She’d never been more certain of anything in her life.
His hands tightened on her hips and lifted, her arms draped over his shoulders for balance. His fingers covered hers around his manhood and guidedhimto the entrance of her sex. “This will hurt a bit,” he muttered in her ear. “We’ll move slow.”
She wasn’t certain slow was possible. She was simply so hungry for him. With breathless deliberation, she lowered onto him as he stretched her, filling her inch by inch. It did pinch, but alongside the pain raced pleasure.
“Am I too much?” he said against her neck.
Yes.“No.”
Somehow her body understood she needed all of him inside her. A need she hadn’t been aware of in all of her seven and twenty years. And when she thought she’d surely taken all of him in, there was yet more of him to be had. Her hips moved on him, shallow at first, testingly, the race of her heart in unison with his, their breath mingling inside the curtain of her hair, every movement of her hips eliciting a groan from him. How sweet was the pain of pleasure. A bead of sweat dripped from her chin onto his chest.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
Ready?
“Aren’t we…aren’t we already…?” She wasn’t sure how to finish.
“You have so much to learn, my sweet.”
My sweet.
The idea of beinghiswas as seductive as the man himself.
His hands tightened on her hips and took control of the movement of her body, the length of him stroking in and out of her in measured rhythm, pain tipping over into pleasure. And the pain that remained? Strangely, it craved more and more as a feeling began to build inside her. A need that was beginning to make demands of her—that she satisfy it. She had no idea how, but the man whose body moved against hers…
He did.
He gathered her closer, only a slick of sweat between them, and she felt permission to give over to abandon as she grabbed his hair and pressed her mouth to his, reduced to the very elements of who she was.
She broke from his mouth. “I never knew it was like this.”
His gaze, dark with promise, held hers. “It isn’t.”
Amelia didn’t take his meaning, but she couldn’t think in this moment. She could onlybeas he slouched further back onto the settee, thrusting his hips, impaling her further, drawing a gasp from her. “Too much?” he asked.
“I think…”—oh—“I think…”—oh—“I think it might not be enough.”
His mouth curved into a wicked smile. “Insatiable, my sweet.”
As one, the rhythm of their hips increased, their bodies moving in perfect counterpoint. Tension coiled tight inside her, pulling at her, demanding focus.
“Amelia,” he said, “surrender.”
“I…I…I don’t know…how.” Surrender wasn’t in her nature.
“Your body knows.”
As she moved on him, the promise of something…something…more…scratched at her… Her body tensed… Her quim held… Of a sudden, release burst upon her in a wash of bright orange… Her sex pulsing around his thick manhood, pleasure spiking through her veins in a platinum streak, afloat in the abandon of a wild space that existed outside the realm of that which could be touched.
