She came up on her elbows. “But maybe, Jack, maybe ye could do both? The kissing and the other? Thedàireadh?At the same time?”
He leaned down and kissed her several times—short kisses with just his lips—and rubbed his cock in her cleft. She collapsed back onto the mattress as tremors ran through her body.
“You know it hurts for most women the first time, Helen?”
“Aye.”
“And sometimes there’s blood?” His cock was going over her place which needed touch and pressure and yes, sometimes roughness.
“Ah-aye.”
“And you’ll tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I widnae tell ye that.” She used his word so he would know she meant it. “Please. Fuck. Me.”
She ran her hands over his chest and kept her eyes on his face as he looked down toward where his cock was stroking over her cleft. She felt the tip of him at her entrance.
“Aye, Jack, please.”
He breached her. His eyes came up to hers. She nodded. He pushed in deeper. She felt pain and fullness. But the pain was nothing. She was a MacNaughton and this pain was nothing.
His face came closer to hers and he kissed her, his tongue probing her mouth, just as his cock went even deeper into her. And then he could not be any deeper and he was withdrawing and there was some pain with that, too, but not as much, and he was stroking into her again and kissing her again.
Her hands were on his shoulder blades, his smooth skin there. She lifted her hips to him, wanting more of him inside her. She still felt pain but she could not get enough of him inside her.
“Fuck me, Jack.”Take me,I surrender.
He groaned and began stroking into her more quickly.
“Aye,” she said. Her hands went to his buttocks, pulling him into her.
“Yes,” he said.
“Jack, Jack.”
“Helen.” His lips brushed hers. “Helen.”
She brought her legs up, spreading herself wider, her heels digging in beneath her hands on his buttocks. So he could not stop. He could not leave.
There was no pain now, only want. Only a deep, driving, primal need to take him in. To have him fill that emptiness she had not known was there until she met him.
She could hear her wetness as he moved in and out. The slap of his skin against hers. His grunts. Her own pressured breathing.
He went onto his elbows. His abdomen against hers, his chest rubbing against her breasts, even as he stroked in and out and kissed her.
She groaned into his mouth.
He leaned to one side, putting all his weight on one arm and moved his other hand between them, his fingers sliding over her maidenhair and into her wet folds. He found the right place and rubbed her there, above where he was pumping his cock.
“Feel, Helen,” he commanded her. “Feel me.”
“I . . . I . . . Jack. Jack!”
It came on so quickly. She could not hold it back. The waves of ecstasy rolled over her body and she felt herself clenching around him. Her upper body curled with the contractions of the muscles of her groin, and her head came up, hitting his forehead with hers.
He moved his hand away from her cleft.
“Good, Helen.”
