“Yes, but— Careful.”
“Yes, careful.” She guided him to nestle against her slit. She bit her lip when he began to thrust, not working into her, but against her. The jolts of pleasure each upward pass delivered made her desperate for more. “More.”
“You are in control. Take more.”
She almost asked him to press inside of her, but she stopped. Would that hurt and spoil the pleasure? She didn’t know. “My gown is in the way,” she whispered.
A tug, a grunt, and Girion stripped her bare, then turned her to face him. “You are too beautiful for me,” he declared, eyes drinking her in.
“You are too handsome for me,” she countered, licking her lips at the sight of what was now over her.
Broad muscles. Deep grooves in them, showing off each ridge. Even his thighs had edges and lines where muscles piled together, and a sprinkling of silver hair led her eyes to the thickest, longest piece of him, his erection.
His hands came back to rest on her breasts, and now the angle was different. He worked each globe and nipple as he leaned over her, grunting as she shimmied and scooted so that her open thighs were against his.
HE COULD SEE THE DARK, juicy pink of her slit, even in the dim light. His hands ached to open and explore. His cock begged to plunder.
He had stroked himself to the peak many times, but he didn’t know if it was the same for women, and part of him thought it might be wrong to ask. On the other hand, it was Jo, and he shared so many things with her that he would never have dreamed he could tell another. “Do you... Do you know how to please yourself?”
A nod.
“Will you show me?”
Jo stilled for a second, and then her hand rested on her belly. Then her mound of curls. At last, it landed on the plump lips of her sex, and Girion continued his dutiful massage of her breasts as she began to rub herself in circles.
“Tell me when you are close,” he whispered.
“I am. Would you... Should we help each other?” she asked, half sitting up.
“Nothing would make me happier.” He changed positions, laying them on their sides and pressing close. He kissed her and wrapped one hand around his cock while he let her lead him between her legs.
It was hard not to come on the spot, from her touch around him, and from the new sensation of touching her where she was so wet and hot. Her slit seemed to part as he rubbed, and he found his fingers flirting with her opening.
“Unnnh. Unnnh, I’m ready, I’m ready!” Jocasta’s sudden cry made him tense, and he could feel the hot seed boiling up in him.
But how to push her over the edge and give her the proper pleasure she deserved? He rubbed harder at the thick bead at the top of her folds, daring to slide one finger inside.
Jocasta keened, and her thighs shook. He felt the magic of her muscles clenching and flexing on his hand, and he greedily wanted to feel that on his cock.
Not that he needed it. Jocasta reached out and gripped him hard, her fist sluicing up and down his length coated with his own wetness. In seconds, his seed erupted and coated her hand, with drips puddling on her belly and thighs.
“My love,” he whispered, falling forward, grabbing her to him, and holding her to his chest.
Jocasta laughed weakly against him. “My love.”
Chapter Twelve
“Are you well?”
Jocasta poked one eye open.
She was in a bed that was not her own, and there was a large, warm body curled around hers, a husky voice that whispered in her ear.
“I am.”
“Sore?”
She took inventory of her parts. Breasts? Tender and tingly.
