He stood. His breeches joined his boots, and he was gloriously naked.
Celeste rose from the bed and struggled out of her dressing gown. He reached to help her, and then he pulled the nightdress over her head.
She sucked in her breath, shy at being stripped of all artifice in front of him. She was being too bold?—
“You are beautiful,” he whispered.
She might have laughed at such a statement, except he looked at her as if her body was a marvel, as if looking at herpleasedhim. And for the first time, she believed she did possess beauty. Her heart filled with joy and she fell into his arms.
It felt good to have her naked skin against his. Their kisses became more passionate, more demanding. He covered her with his body, and she cradled him between her legs.
His manhood pressed against her. Instinctively, she braced herself and then slowly drew in her breath as he entered her.
Thiswas what they claimed was the secret to life.Thiswas what the poets lauded and women whispered over.
Andthiswas a bit of a disappointment.
Her body stretched to accommodate him. The feeling was alien, not uncomfortable, but not, well, she hadn’t known what to expect.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded, holding her breath.
“You are lying,” he said with a chuckle. Inside her, she felt his manhood move with the motion of his laughter, and it startled her.
She released her breath. “I felt that.”
“You are going to feel more.” He slid an arm under her back, bringing her into his protective embrace. “This may hurt, Celeste. I’m sorry. But the pain should not last.”
“I trust you.”
He kissed her, a quick, hard kiss that distracted her as he suddenly thrust deep.
There was a sharp pain. She jerked as if to escape. He held her fast, not moving, as if he were attempting to absorb her discomfort with his own body. To her surprise, the pain quickly ebbed. She discovered she liked having him inside her.
“All good?” he rasped out.
She nodded, her breasts moving against his chest. He began rocking against her, his thrusts gentle at first but taking on more force as she began rising up to meet him.
Every time he touched the center of her, she felt tiny starbursts going off. She found herself striving for them, wanting more. Always more.
His heavy breathing matched her own. Her legs now hugged his hips, pulling him into her. Deeper.Deeper. And then?—
A sharp, bright pinnacle of emotion seized her. Wave after wave of sensation flowed through her.
He knew what was happening. His movements became more directed, harder, faster. Once, twice, and the third thrust sent him to his own satisfaction.
With a sense of wonder, Celeste realized this was what they meant when they said that two should become one. She was one with Oliver. She was his.
He whispered her name. It sounded like a benediction, and then he collapsed over to one side of her body so that she would not have to bear the brunt of his weight. She made a disconsolate sound as he slipped out of her, his seed spent. He reached for the counterpane and pulled it over them. They lay entwined, Celeste lost in wave after rippling wave of pleasure.
Oliver pressed his lips to her temple. His arm came around her beneath the coverlet. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
She kissed his forearm. “Yes, you should have.” Her voice had a purr to it.
“Celeste, I meant?—”
“I know what you meant,” she interrupted him. “It was amazing. The best experience of my life.”
