She closed her eyes as he stroked his hands up and down her back. When he moved them along the sides of her breasts, she felt it all the way to her center. She let him draw her into another long kiss before she forced herself to pull away.
Rising to her hands and knees above him, she said with mock severity, “I thought I was to do the touching.”
Obligingly, he dropped his hands. “Do what you will with me.”
She leaned down to run her tongue along his collarbone and gasped when the tips of her breasts rubbed against his chest. It felt so good she did it again. Slowly this time.
She forgot to reprimand him when large, warm hands covered her breasts. When he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, the sensation that gripped her was so strong she had to rest her forehead on his chest.
She moaned in complaint when he stopped to lift her higher on the bed. Forgiveness came quickly as she felt the wetness of his tongue circle her nipple. At the same time, he took the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Her hips swayed as she was drawn into a swirl of sensation. When he took her breast in his mouth and sucked, she squeezed her eyes shut against the jolt it sent through her. Nothing, nothing, nothing felt as good as this.
Just when she thought nothing could divert her from the feeling of his mouth on her breast, she felt his fingers sliding up the inside of her thigh. He dragged his fingers up and down, each time coming closer to her center. The rampant sensations racing through her now were more than she could bear.
Her body tensed with anticipation. Closer, closer. When his hand brushed the hair between her legs, a shiver went through her. All her concentration was on willing him to touch her again. When he barely brushed her a second time, she wanted to pound her fist against the bed in frustration.
Finally, finally, he pressed his fingers to the aching spot. It was as if he had known all along exactly where she needed to be touched and how. Her body began to move against his hand.
He took hold of her hips. Every part of her skin that touched him tingled as he pulled her along his body. He eased her down until the sensitive place he had been rubbing with his hand touched the tip of his shaft.
She stiffened.
“You have trusted me this far,” he said, his voice tight, strained. “Trust me for the rest.”
Putting his hands on either side of her face, he pulled her into a kiss. Their tongues danced together in a rhythm her body knew. The kiss was wet and hot and not enough. This time when the tip of his shaft touched her, she pressed against it. She wanted to be touched there, to feel him hard against her.
“Do not leave me, Kate,” he rasped in her ear. “Do not leave me.”
As he slid inside her, she inhaled at the unexpected rush of pleasure. They lay nearly motionless, breathing hard. Her body was tight, tense, aware of every inch of him inside her. He kissed her face and hair. She resisted when he pushed her up by her shoulders, regretting any distance between them.
“You are so beautiful.” The strength of the desire in his voice wiped away any awkwardness she felt at finding herself sitting astride him. And the pressure inside her felt so good.
He grasped her hips again. As he showed her how to move, the heat in his eyes almost burned her skin. Soon, her body found its own rhythm, and she was moving helplessly against him.
She leaned over him, needing to kiss him now. The tips of her breasts brushed against his chest as their mouths joined. She pressed her hips against him as he pushed up against her. Finally, she had to break away to breathe. She leaned back, losing herself wholly to the movement, aware of nothing but the powerful sensations emanating from where their bodies were joined.
“Slower, Kate,” he begged. “Slower, please.”
But she ignored his plea. The sensations pulsed through her, nearly blinding her. As they overtook her, she fell forward and grabbed on to his shoulders. From a distance, she heard screaming as spasms of pleasure shook her.
“God have mercy!” she said as she collapsed over him.
He folded his arms around her and held her tightly against his chest. When she gasped, “I cannot breathe,” he eased his hold and ran his fingers lightly over her back. Her skin was so sensitive that she shivered. Her body spasmed as she realized she could still feel the full length of him deep inside her.
As she listened to his rapid heartbeat against her ear, she tried to piece together what had just happened to her. A wave of embarrassment hit her.
“Was that me screaming?” she asked in a whisper.
With an inarticulate groan, he gripped her shoulders and pressed himself deeper inside her. His answer came in huffs as he thrust against her. “Aye. Aye. Aye.”
She pushed herself up to lean against him, arms extended, and moved with him. The ache inside her grew. His need, his urgency became hers. Faster and harder, he slammed against her. She felt it coming again and wanted to beg him not to stop. And then she felt him surge inside her and heard him cry her name. Triumphant, she went over the edge with him.
Catherine felt light-headed from lack of sleep as she lay awake, watching the sleeping form of her husband in the gray light of early dawn. She sighed in contentment. It had been a long and wondrous night.
William taught her the joy that is possible between a man and a woman, the miraculous giving and receiving of pleasure. But she also learned something he did not intend to teach her. Something, she was certain, he did not yet know himself.
“Do not leave me, do not leave me,” he whispered each time he was deep inside her.
She sensed the core loneliness in him. She understood his words meant more than that he wanted her fully with him in bed.
