For still caring.
For still yearning.
She would never learn.
“I need you to touch me,” he said, startling her further.
“Touch you?”
“You needn’t say it as if I were a poisonous snake,” he told her grimly.
“Youarea poisonous snake,” she countered before she could stop her aimless tongue.
“The same might be said of you, madam. Give me your hand.”
She wasn’t sure she ought to. But then, if she did as he asked, perhaps this would all be over and she could go to sleep and pretend that her husband had never come to her bed and set her ablaze with his touch and his kisses.
Sybil held up a hand. “Here you are. What you wish to do with it, I cannot begin to—oh!”
Her words left her as he took her hand in his and guided her fingers around his length. He was firm and hot. And his skin was soft. An answering pang unfurled deep within her. A pang of yearning, of elemental desire. A hunger that began to grow.
“Oh, indeed,” he said. “Now cease talking and let me bed you.”
It was far from a romantic declaration, but Riverdale kissed her again, and his kisses robbed her of the ability to think. Sybil’s lips responded to his, and her body reacted in kind, warming and aching and needing. With his help, she stroked up and down his shaft, feeling him grow harder and longer and thicker within her grasp. It was as if her touch brought him to life.
And in response, she grew wetter still.
He licked into her mouth and settled a hand between her legs, once again teasing her pearl, this time with greater intent. Her hand must have stilled on him because he left her long enough to guide her fingers back into motion before returning to her bud. This time, he seemed to find a place that was the answer to every question she hadn’t known existed. His fingers moved with expert precision, making her hips jerk as pleasure arced through her. She kissed him back, feeling ravenous, and stroked him as he had shown her, gratified when he moaned into her mouth and his body surged toward hers.
How glorious it was to realize her touch had that effect on him. That he enjoyed what she was doing. That it brought her rakish husband to the same place of mindless pleasure she was currently inhabiting.
He increased the pace on that bit of her that demanded his attention, and a heightening sense of pleasure swirled and built to a maddening crescendo. Her heart pounded, her body wound tightly, and there was something she needed. Something she didn’t fully comprehend until the moment it broke over her and sudden, acute pleasure flooded Sybil’s body, beginning at her core and radiating outward, all the way to her toes.
She was still reeling from the overwhelming effect when he gently disentangled from her, placing her hand on his shoulder. He notched himself to her entrance, a probing pressure that was entirely unfamiliar beginning there.
His head lifted as he broke the seal of their kiss again. “You will be loyal to me for the duration of our marriage, madam. I won’t countenance you in another’s bed.”
“Then I expect the same from you,” she said breathlessly before she could fully think about the repercussions of her request.
He said nothing, simply stared down at her until, at last, he nodded. “Until you give me my heir.”
“Until then,” she agreed, the fateful bargain formally struck.
He pushed inside her, the invasion so overwhelming that she stiffened beneath him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she prepared herself for whatever came next. There was pleasure edged by discomfort as his body surged into hers in measured thrusts. Slowly at first, shallow movements that brought him deeper until she was stretched and filled. Their hip bones met, the weight of his body upon her heavy and yet thrilling.
Her nipples brushed against his chest as he stilled, planted within her, their union finally, at last, consummated in deed as well as word. He began to move, pleasure mingling with a hint of pain unfurling within her. Her inner muscles clenched on him. Sybil didn’t know what to do, but her body seemed to understand as instinct took over. They moved together, her hips following his, the glide of his shaft within her sending Sybil back to the edge.
He took her mouth, kissing her as he claimed her with his body, and she held him tightly, her body convulsing as wave after wave of new, delirious pleasure hit, dashing away the pain. She made a choked animal sound into his kiss, unable to stifle it as her body came undone, driven by his fierce possession.
With a groan, he sank deep, the hot warmth of his seed rushing inside Sybil before he collapsed atop her, breathing as harshly as she was.
Their marriage had finally been consummated.
And for reasons she had no wish to consider, Sybil held him to her instead of pushing her husband away, reveling for a moment in the closeness between them, the transitory illusion that happiness was truly within her reach.
Until he rolled away, leaving her chilled and naked, lying on her back in the low gaslight.
Alone.
