She was unashamed.
“Godric,” she lifted herself to her elbows once again.
“Lay back, love,” he replied.
And when she did, he arranged her hair.
“Just,” he murmured as he carefully manipulated each strand, “thus.” He sighed, admiring his handiwork. “Comfortable?”
“So comfortable, I could fall asleep.”
“Could you, really?” He smiled, wolfish, and straddled her, one knee at each of her hips. He took his member into his palm. “I’ve a mind, then, to use my own hands.”
She grinned. “Beast.”
“La Bête et la Belle.”
“AmI beautiful?”
“Objectively, yes.” He lowered himself until his chest hair tickled her stiffened nipples. “And, to me, unparalleled.” He slipped a hand between her legs. “Irresistible.”
She closed her eyes, giving up to the sensation of his radiant heat and the hand, stroking her in the very place where she throbbed. She inhaled sharply as he dipped a finger in her cleft.
“You don’tfeeltired...you feel wet.”
What a strange sensation his hair was creating—the lightest of stimulation that cut a blade of need down through her core, making his hand...inadequate. The two vastly different frictions forced a soft whimper through her lips.
“Please,” she whispered, eyes closed, cheeks heated.
He answered with his body, sliding down between her parted legs. With a hard, thorough thrust, he was inside. She met him with angled hips, struggling to take him deeper within.
By measures he gave her his weight, driving into her so that each thrust touched her in the place of her want, a lack that soon reached a fevered need, drawing helpless, animal sounds from deep in her throat.
She opened her eyes.
Just above her, his face was raw with naked thirst and furious strain, his temples wet with labor. She jerked each time he slid inside her, completely taken, almost painfully full.
Then, with his most forceful push, he remained still. Crouched over her body he grunted and then buried his head in her hair. She held him close. Her release breaking in rivulets of euphoric bliss, cool and tingling.
Immediately, he withdrew, spending his seed against her belly with a sound that she felt in his body.
After a moment of shock and wonder, he collapsed at her side, threading his fingers through her limp hand.
She made no move to clean herself, but stared, unseeing, at the elaborate carvings on the inside of the top of the bed.
“Well,” she sighed, “now we’ve come together in bed just as you described the night in the library.”
“I wondered if you’d realize.”
“Not at first,” she replied. “But the notion vaguely dawned on me sometime between myhelpless whimpers.”
He placed the back of his free hand over his eyes. “I blush to remember.”
“You? Blush?” She gurgled with laughter. “Well? Did I meet your expectations?”
“My expectations were squawking fledglings, then you swooped down and claimed the entire nest.” He rolled onto his side and released her hand to trace a line down her face. “I was crass.”
“Yes. You meant, I think, to mortify me.”
