I roll on top of her, pinning her to the bed, but carefully.
“Are you ready?”
Usually, I don’t take her so quickly, but it feels a very long time since I felt her tighten around my cock and it is killing me.
“Yes.”
I push up her thin night rail and find her heat with my fingers. She is warm and very wet and I need no more encouragement.
I push into her and groan at the exquisite feel of her on my engorged, bothered cock. In my worry over her condition, I managed to forget how right it is to be with her like this.
I still inside of her, still worrying about hurting her and the small life in her womb.
“Does it hurt?”
“Alfred,” she says, bringing her hand to the back of my neck. “I assure you I have no thoughts of pain at present. Please move.”
Gently I withdraw. Pleasure sears up my shaft. Her smooth wetness teases me.
“That’s good,” I laugh.
“Yes, it’s good,” she says, smiling up at me. “Nowmore.”
I obey. I take care though, trying not to go too deep.
She clenches around me tighter and tighter with each thrust. It appears that we are both sensitive given the delaysince our last coupling, because sooner than usual we are both on the brink.
I angle myself so that I can thrust and also reach down between her legs, finding her clit with my fingers. She gasps and then she comes, her innermost muscles pulsing against my cock.
I jerk up and withdraw, coating the curls between her legs and her thighs in my seed. I have more pent-up seed than I should after only twenty-four hours—but she has always had this effect on me. She overwhelms me.
After the pleasure is done with me, I stride from the bed, clean myself, and then do the same for Annabelle.
“No need to withdraw now,” she teases as I clean her. “The damage has been done.”
“You know it is the opposite. I like seeing my seed all over you. It makes me feel like you are mine. But I wouldn’t have before—when I wanted to get you with child.”
“So possessive,” she murmurs.
“Aren’t you? Of me?”
I am beside her again.
Her fingers touch my forehead, and I close my eyes at the lovely sensation.
“Yes, I am. I was jealous of Miss Kemble today. Which I know is ridiculous.”
I laugh and shake my head.
“She is very nice. And very pretty. But I don’t even see other women—not like that anyway—when I am with you, Annabelle. When I first saw you, I thought you were made to tempt me. I had no idea how beautiful you would be. Or how you would look and act in a way that would tempt me so terribly.”
“Act?” she questions. “My looks I suppose I can understand. Although I have never fancied myself a great beauty.But my behavior to you was abhorrent. I was cold and sneering and superior.”
I shrug. “Maybe. But I liked how severe you were with me. You gave me no choice—and secretly I wanted someone to dominate me. To come and tell me that my agony couldn’t continue. I enjoyed feeling powerless. Like that first Sunday we had together. When you didn’t serve me wine.”
She covers her face with her hands and laughs. “I can’t believe I did that. It was so rude! So condescending.”
“It was. But it made me even harder for you. Which was an impressive feat given my state.”
