Halvard leaned closer for a kiss, smiling against her lips. And when those fingers finally breached her, one of them sliding inside her with almost no resistance, slipping past her slick walls, Elsie moaned, the sound reverberating through the room.
“That’s it,” Halvard said softly, the sound of his voice soothing, grounding.
He worked his finger into her, pressing against her sensitive walls, reaching deep for a spot that had stars bursting behind her eyelids. The more her pressed there, the more that familiar pressure built inside her, so quickly that Elsie was stunned by its force. Warmth coursed through her, and Halvard pleasured her with such skill that it was as if they were made for each other, already knowing each other’s needs, each other’s desires.
When a second finger joined his efforts, Elsie clamped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from making noise, but Halvard was quick to shake his head.
“I wish tae hear ye,” he said. “Dinnae fash. It’s only us here.”
And Elsie, prompted by his words, allowed herself to be as loud as she wanted, moaning his name again and again as she got closer to her peak.
And then, when Halvard quickened his pace, the flat of his palm pressing against her mound, it only took a few more thrusts of his fingers for her to reach her orgasm, falling apart under his hands.
For a few moments, Halvard only lay there, next to her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as she came down from her zenith. But Elsie was entirely too aware of the fact that he was not yet satisfied—and neither was she; not completely.
When the last of the aftershocks passed, she turned to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer once more. Halvard rolled on top of Elsie with a sigh.
When he settled between her thighs, his forehead rested against hers, his breath hard and uneven.
“Tell me if it hurts, and I will stop.”
Her answer came without hesitation.
“It won’t,” she breathed. “I want you. Only you.”
He kissed her, slow and trembling, and then took himself in hand, giving his length a few pumps. Elsie watched as he guided himself to her entrance and then, with a gentle, slow push, pressed himself inside her.
Elsie gasped, eyes fluttering shut, her fingers gripping his shoulders. It was unfamiliar, a stretch of sensation both startling and intimate, but Halvard stilled instantly.
“I’m here,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I’ve got ye. Breathe fer me, Elsie.”
She did, slowly. His thumb brushed her cheek, grounding her, and after a moment the discomfort was not so overwhelming anymore—it was breathtaking, yes, but shifting into something warmer, into something she couldn’t help but crave.
She opened her eyes. Halvard was watching her with such devotion that it nearly undid her.
“I’m alright,” she whispered. “You can move.”
Halvard moved carefully, reverently, every motion controlled as if he were afraid she might break. And every time she gasped or sighed or clutched at him, he kissed her—her forehead, her cheek, her mouth—soft praises whispered between breaths.
Soon she was matching his rhythm, her hands gripping his back, her breath coming faster, her heart racing against his.
The drag of his length against her walls was driving her mad with need. Each thrust of Halvard’s hips presses their bodies closer together, stimulating that bundle of nerves at the top of her folds. Elsie trembled with every breath, warmth coursing through her body as Halvard thrusted inside her, his hands grabbing anywhere he could reach—her breasts, the dip of her waist, her hips—his eyes wide as he watched her body undulate under his own.
Elsie felt raw, exposed, but in the best way. Under Halvard’s gaze, she couldn’t help but feel beautiful, wanted—even loved. There was something so tender about him, even in the chase of his pleasure. There was something so careful in the way he handled her, as if she was something terribly precious, even as he grabbed her body for his pleasure.
Her breasts swung with every thrust of Halvard’s hips. Her core tightened around him, drawing a curse out of his lips, and Elsie wanted nothing more than to see him come undone—to have him come undone inside her, to feel him fill her to the brim.
“Elsie…” His voice cracked. “God, lass, ye’re perfect.”
She felt the world tilt, his words sweet and overwhelming.
“Halvard… please,” she whispered back, breathless.
Their foreheads pressed together, their bodies moving in unison, a perfect blend of sensation and emotion, heat and tenderness. Elsie felt warmth coil inside her, rising, building, tightening?—
And when she broke, when she gasped his name into the hollow of his throat, Halvard followed with a low, shaking groan, burying his face against her neck as he held her tight.
Silence settled around them afterward, warm and breathless and glowing. Halvard didn’t move, not for a long moment—only brushed soft kisses along her jaw, her cheek, her hairline, the gesture so tender that warmth filled Elsie. It was a different kind of warmth from the one of her need, from that agency to have him. This was something else entirely, something she was afraid to name, even to herself.
