She nodded, too swiftly. Too readily.
He pushed and took just an inch. She gasped, but this time there was less pain in the sound. He let her adjust, holding steady and ignoring the screaming voice in his head that told him to pound all the way inside of her and bruise and claim and take like an animal.
When she lifted against him, he took the next inch, and this time she sighed, her fingers threading through his hair, massaging his scalp as she rippled around him. His eyes went wide. She was on the verge of orgasm again. He’d never known a woman so responsive. He took more. More and more, slowly, though he had to fight to remain so. Carefully, though he wanted to feel himself surrounded by her.
At last he was fully seated, and she opened her eyes and stared up at him.
“Are you well?” he whispered.
She smiled. “More.”
That was enough to nearly unman him. He stroked into her with one long thrust and she met him, her sheath snug around him as she let out a low cry of pleasure. He repeated the action, stroking and stroking, grinding their pelvises so he could stimulate her clitoris. At last she quaked around him, milking him with her orgasm as she pulled his mouth to hers and her cries were lost in their kiss.
He was clinging with dear life to control. And it was fading. As her orgasm subsided, he pumped harder, harder. Pleasure shot up the length of him, his balls tightened and just before he was lost, he pulled from her and his seed splashed against her skin before he collapsed over her in blind pleasure.
* * *
Hannah slid her hands along the stranger’s muscles, massaging the rippling mass of him and reliving every moment they’d shared. She liked his weight on her. The feel of his breath on her neck. She’d liked the thrust of his body inside of her, the way her release felt as she gripped his cock.
She liked all of it. Already she wanted more. That had nothing to do with surrendering her virginity to him for the mercenary reasons she’d had when she came to this place in an act of defiance and desperation.
He lifted his head, and she blushed as he smiled down at her with a knowing smirk. “That was incredible.”
She shifted beneath him, uncertain if he was teasing her or being serious. He was obviously experienced, she was equally obviously not. And while she agreed with the sentiment, she had a hard time believing that a man like this could actually feel moved by a virgin such as herself.
Former virgin. The deed, after all, was most decidedly done.
She wiggled a little and he rolled away to his side, where he began to trace circles onto her stomach with the tips of her fingers. She shivered at how effortlessly he could put her body on edge, make her want again. What did that say about her?
“Will you tell me your name?” he asked.
She reached up to be certain her mask hadn’t shifted during that utterly powerful exchange, then shook her head. “It is a bad idea, isn’t it? You know why I came here tonight. If you knew my identity it would only complicate matters.”
His brow furrowed like he was unhappy with that response. “Your father may still force you to marry,” he said softly. “Maidenhead or no. If I knew your name, if you knew mine, I could help you.”
“How?” she asked.
He seemed to ponder the question a moment, and she could see that he was struggling, probably with his own list of complications. Great God, for all she knew the man was married, himself. An idea that made her stomach flip. The concept that he belonged to someone else.
“You can’t help,” she whispered when he was quiet for too long. “At least not more than you already have. I will go to my father tomorrow and tell him that I’ve given away what he was trying to barter with. I’ll tell the man he’s chosen as my husband if needs be.”
“You will ruin yourself utterly rather than marry this ogre.”
She nodded. “If you knew him, you would understand.”
He sighed. “Very well. You know your life. You know your reasons. I would not dare to force you into doing or saying something you don’t want to. It seems your life has been filled with enough of that as it is.”
Her heart skipped at those words. God, in all her years, she did not think any man had ever offered her the space she desired or the autonomy she longed for. And this man, this stranger with no name, did it without effort. Without judgment. Without ulterior motive.
“Thank you,” she whispered, blinking at the tears that had suddenly rushed to her eyes.
“But will you stay with me a little longer?” he asked.
Suddenly he felt very close and very warm. Very real. For a moment she could almost believe that they could stay here forever. Forget the outside world and its problems, just say here, strangers and lovers until the world stopped turning.
Only that was a fantasy. She had already indulged in that enough.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “I must go home.”
