He began to rock gently, each push and pull making her grind her jaw. She hoped he’d finish soon. She’d fake a smile, thank him for satisfying her curiosity, and live the remainder of her days quite content to never lie with a man again.
He slid his arm under her leg, hooking her knee over his elbow, and the twinge in her core… changed.
“Oh!” That hadn’t felt bad.
He pulled half way out of her channel, then slid back deep.
She blinked. That had actually felt rather nice. She was still impossibly full, but that ache now held a tinge of pleasure. He thrust again, harder, and she arched her hips into him. More than a tinge. “Is this what it is supposed to feel like?”
He threaded his fingers into her hair, clenching his hand. The pressure on her scalp sent shivers right through her body. “I don’t know what you’re feeling, but on my end, it feels bloody fantastic.”
He took her harder, their bodies slapping together. She welcomed the pinch now, the slight hint of remembered pain. Because the pressure, the friction, it was all leading somewhere. Somewhere wonderful. Her body knew it, even if her mind didn’t.
“It feels… quite nice,” she said a bit breathlessly. She ran her palms down his back, feeling every flex of muscle before he gripped her wrists and pushed her hands back over her head.
He pinned them to the bed with one hand and tugged her hair with the other, angling her head back, exposing her neck. “It’s going to feel even better.” He roughly scraped his teeth down her throat then sucked hard at the juncture where neck met shoulder.
She’d never been in a situation so out of her control before. Charles had her pinned, impaled on his length as he rutted, and she could do naught but hold on and take whatever he gave.
It was the most freeing moment of her life.
Even as he held her down, thrusting between her thighs, taking what he needed, she felt safe between his arms. Cared for. Was this how Lydia had felt? Could the man who had taken her life have also taken her to these heights of pleasure and joy? It hardly seemed possible.
Charles ground his hips into hers, the rough hair at the base of his length abrading that sensitive nub he’d tortured so thoroughly earlier.
Her cunny clenched around his member, the sensations centered in her core spiraling higher, outward. “Charles,” she whispered. It was too much. Too good. She wanted the feeling to end. Needed it to last forever.
“Get there,” he growled. The bed frame rattled against the wall. His eyes looked black in the dim light, devilish.
She trapped his hips between her knees. It made sense. Only something diabolical could make her feel this good. It wasn’t natural, this yearning, aching, tangle of need and hunger that consumed her. It wasn’t…. “Oh, God.” She writhed beneath him, trying to buck him off, trying to bring him deeper.
“Get there. Now.” He bit her neck, his teeth holding her immobile just as the spring that coiled about her burst open. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through her, curling her fingers and toes, dragging a sound from her throat she’d never before heard.
“Fuck. Damn.” With a groan, Charles pulled from her clutching sheath, gave his member two short strokes, and spilled his seed across her belly.
Cassie stared at the ceiling and tried to catch her breath. Her mind slowly cleared. So that was sexual intercourse. It was wonderful. It was madness.
A longing for her sister sliced through her, making the backs of her eyes burn. Sometimes it hit her like that. For the most part the loss had scabbed over, but there were moments where it felt like a part of her soul was being severed anew.
This was one of those moments in life where she wanted Lydia to confide in.
Charles rolled to her side, his body still emanating heat.
She dipped her finger in the seed on her abdomen. He had thought to take care of her at the end, not chance a pregnancy. It was too bad Lydia’s suitor hadn’t been so considerate. Would she still be alive if she hadn’t been with child?
“Are you all right?” Charles’s voice was gruff, his muscles stiff.
“Yes.” She shifted her hand, letting the backs of her knuckles brush his thigh. Moments ago, she’d never felt closer to another person. Her mouth twisted. In physical distance, she never had been. Now, she felt their separation. There were too many secrets between them for there to exist any true intimacy.
He covered her hand with his own.
Her lungs squeezed. If there was anyone she’d open up to about her sister, she’d want it to be him. Should she tell him? Would he look at her differently knowing she planned to take a life? She pinched the top of her nose. Of course he would.
Charles leaned over the bed and came up with his cravat. He wiped at the sticky substance on her belly. “I’m sorry. I should have—”
She pushed down her maudlin thoughts. She had asked Charles for this intrigue, and it had been more than she ever could have imagined. Turning on one side, she propped her head in her hand. “Should have what?”
His gaze flicked down her body. “That’s the problem with you.” He cupped her breast, rubbing his thumb across her nipple. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do where you’re concerned. Tupping you like one might a doxy most likely wasn’t it.”
