He kissed me back, and then, suddenly, he flipped me over and shifted beneath me.
My eyes widened in surprise. My knees settled to his sides with him still inside me. He was under me. I sat on him. He tried to push my hair back as his lips found my neck.
I inhaled sharply when he lifted himself to sit.
I adjusted myself in his lap, and when he placed his hands on my hips and gently guided me down onto him, a shiver ran through me.
I could feel his hardness pressing up against where my waist chain rested.
Unable to take him fully like this, I leaned back slightly to ease the stretch, bracing my hands on his knees as his legs spread long beneath me.
He brushed his lips against mine, then lifted my legs one by one, placing them over his shoulders.
My eyes closed on instinct, and the shift made me fall back against the bed.
He paused, letting me settle, intertwining his fingers with mine. Slowly, gently, he pushed his hips forward. I moved back with the motion, still struggling to fully enjoy the thrust.
With the next push, I forced myself into him.
A soft moan slipped from my lips.
My breasts swayed with the movement, almost terrifying in their intensity.
The slowness was intoxicating and so arousing. I had never imagined lovemaking could feel like this. I didn’t want the night to end. I wanted more… more of his patience, more of his love.
He kept moving slowly, and I responded just as slowly. My moans faded, replaced by a deep, consuming awareness of every sensation.
The intensity was impossible to explain.
I released one of his hands and stretched my arm above my head, gripping his feet for support as I arched my back, allowing him to thrust more vigorously.
With every glide, my jewellery chimed, creating a rhythm of its own.
“You are exquisite, love,” he murmured, tightening his hold on my waist as he drew me closer.
When my legs began to numb, I cried out softly and lowered them. He kissed my toes and smiled up at me.
I sat up, returning the smile as I adjusted myself on his lap.
Cupping his cheek, I kissed his lips. His eyes closed, surrendering to the moment. He looked beautiful. Perhaps marriage softened his features more, or maybe it was the closeness.
My hips moved instinctively, rolling against him. He inhaled deeply, and when the rhythm overtook me, my fingers slid into his nape. As I kissed his neck, he tilted his head to the side, exposing more of himself.
My palm traced the curve of his neck, gliding down to his chest, and I gently pushed him back.
My desire surged.
He opened his eyes and watched me riding him. A faint, hazed smile played on his lips.
My body found its own rhythm now, searching until I found a place deep inside me that made my toes curl, and my head fall back.
Shame melted away completely; only need remained, only pleasure to be high on.
His fingers brushed my midriff, then cupped my breasts, kneading them lovingly.
I felt my most sensitive place rubbing against him, feeding the fire between us, drawing him deeper into it with me.
Every fear I had carried felt as though it was breaking away.
