She was…
He was…
Bloody hell, those lips. His hips jerked, driving his cock into her mouth. And she took him, making a soft whimper of her own pleasure. He was surrounded by wet heat. Her hum vibrated down his aching shaft, making his ballocks tighten.
He was going to spill.
If he did not stop her, he would not be able to hold back. And there was only one place he wanted to plant his seed this night. It was deep inside his wife.
Gently, he disengaged from her, before positioning them so that she was on her back and he atop her once more.
“I was just beginning,” she protested.
He groaned, pressing his forehead to hers. “That is what I was afraid of, my darling. I cannot bear another moment of such torture. I need to be inside you.”
“I want to try it again,” she murmured. “I love your cock, Gill. It is so beautiful. It does seem frightfully large, however. How will it…fit, do you suppose? Inside me, that is?”
He suppressed another moan, because the mere thought of his cock inside her was enough to make him dangerously close to the edge. And because only Christabella would say such a thing. What else could he expect from the bold lady who had dared to tickle him, who had lured him from his shell?
Nothing less, and he knew it.
He kissed her, reaching between their bodies to find her cunny once more. She was dripping, so wet. That was important, and he knew it. With his forefinger, he found her pearl once more, stimulating her there until her hips were moving and her breath emerged in shallow gasps.
Until he could not wait.
He withdrew from her and used her dew, slicking it over his shaft.
He paused, tearing his mouth from hers. “Are you ready, my love?”
“Always,” she said.
He guided his cock to her entrance. One pump of his hips, and he was seated inside her. Not all the way. Just enough. The sensation was exquisite. Unlike anything he could have fathomed. Tight heat engulfed him. He almost came right then.
But he held himself still, for he knew the loss of a woman’s maidenhead could prove painful. He kissed her cheek, her nose. “How do you feel, Belle?”
“Incredible,” she whispered back. “Why did you stop?”
“Is there pain?” he asked, mindful of her.
“A sting,” she said, “nothing more. The greatest ache inside me only has one solution.”
Bloody hell.
He moved again. Remembering the importance of her pearl, he worked it once more with his fingers, which had remained between their bodies. She was swollen, ready. She bowed from the bed, and he drove deeper. Then deeper. Until he was seated all the way, inside her as far as he could go.
Their mouths met.
They kissed, and it was fervent and carnal, those kisses. He could not keep still. His body had a mind of its own, his desire all-encompassing. Gill lost control. He withdrew from her almost entirely and then thrust home once more. The friction and tightness were making him mindless.
He and Christabella found a rhythm, moving together. It seemed as natural and right as anything. As natural and right as the two of them, as their love. Nothing had ever been so pure, so true. Their bodies and their hearts were one.
He increased his pressure on the bud of her sex, and she tightened on him, her sheath gripping him with so much force, he lost himself. Her spend rippled through her as he buried himself to the hilt. And it was too much. He tensed and spilled deep inside her. They came together, their cries mingling in the night.
The force of his release rolled through him, and he remained where he was, still inside her, spent. And sated. Oh, so damned sated.
Gill held his weight on his forearms, conscious enough not to want to smother her entirely beneath his much larger body. He kissed her once more, his gaze locking with hers.
“I love you, my darling Belle,” he said.
