“Nae,” he said.
“I don’t want to die without having you.”
His hand, as if it had a mind of its own, was now moving from the cheek of her buttock to her hip bone and then following the curve of her waist upward, upward, seeking and not stopping until the hand was filled with the firm flesh of her breast. Surely, a naked breast constituted new territory as well.
“Yer not going to die, Arabella,” he murmured.
“Yes, I am, and so are you.”
Now his thumb also seemed to be acting independently of his conscious thought and it swept over the front of her breast, brushing her nipple. She inhaled sharply, even as the nipple drew to a hard point under his thumb.
“I’m going to undress you, Alasdair.”
She pushed his shirt up and he sat up partially so she could raise it over his head. And then her face was in his chest and she was kissing him there and her bare breasts were rubbing the skin of his abdomen. Small, skillful fingers at his waist and lower and she tugged on his trousers and he lifted his pelvis off the bed and she slid them all the way off him, down his legs. He could feel his member spring away from his body as soon as it was released from his trousers, hard, throbbing, aching for release already.
He felt himself unable to move. Frozen.
And then she lay down on her back next to him, very near, but not touching him.
“You know,” she said very softly, “people have been coupling for a very long time.”
“Aye.”
“Since Adam and Eve.”
“Aye.”
“It should be entirely natural what happens next.”
“Aye.”
“I want you to be my Adam.”
She must have lifted and spread her legs when she finished speaking because something brushed his cock, and he thought it was the side of her thigh.
Then, in the darkness, he did what he had imagined so many times.
He turned and got on top of her, finding her face with his hands so that he could plunder her mouth with his tongue and lips. His knees landed on the mattress between her already-spread thighs, and he was pushing her into the bed with the weight of his upper body, even as his erect cock blindly stabbed between her legs. And then he felt her short legs around his waist and one of her hands clutching his flank and the other hand on his shaft and she was pulling him toward what must surely be her introitus. He could feel wetness and heat on the head of his cock.
“Yes,” she whispered.
And he plunged in without a thought of anything but his pure, aching need to bury himself inside her.
He had conquered a whole kingdom with a single thrust.
He knew it was a miracle that he did not spend himself immediately. Her walls grabbed at his member, enclosing him in her dewy warmth. He thrust once, twice, three, four times. And then on his fifth thrust, he knew he was about to lose control and pulled out of her entirely and felt himself pulse with the most agonizing pleasure, spilling into the bedsheet.
And then her small arms were around him, pulling his body close to hers, and she was kissing his chest, which was the part of his body that her mouth could reach.
He was panting and covered in sweat, even though he had been awake for no more than two minutes.
And his darling was covering his chest with kisses and he bent his head and kissed her face and tasted salt. She was crying.
“Did I hurt ye, Arabella?”
“No,” she said.
“I’m sor—”
