Page 81 of Hot & Heavy

He nodded, even as he sheathed himself.

She shook her head. " 'Tis not necessary with me. I am barren."

"Are you sure?"

"Woefully sure."

He unpeeled the sheath from his manpart and arranged himself over her. Pushing her knees up and out, he entered her with a grunt of satisfaction.

She could not breathe. She could not move. Speech was impossible. Had anything in the world ever felt this good? He filled her, then moved, and filled her some more. Her bedsport with Karl had never been anything like this.

His straightened arms were braced on the mattress on either side of her head, but he lifted one arm. His hand reached between their bodies where they were joined. He flicked his middle finger back and forth, playing a part of her that felt engorged and extremely sensitive.

Her lower body bucked against him, of its own volition. The muscles of her inner female channel clutched and unclutched his still unmoving, fully imbedded manpart, which unbelievably thickened even more.

The only indications that he was as aroused as she were the perspiration on his forehead and his heavy breathing. He took both of her hands and raised them over her head, where she grabbed onto the rungs of the headboard. "Hold on, honey," he said, and began long, long strokes in and out of her body, so slow she wanted to scream.

Holding on tight, she arched her back upward, so intense was the sweet agony. He leaned his head down and licked one nipple. Ecstasy was hitting her everywhere—where his lips suckled, where his lower body hit her special spot when he slammed into her, where her inner folds convulsed over and over and over.

She spread her legs wider, wanting more, giving that special spot greater access to the rhythmic off, on, off, on graze of his body against hers right there.

"Are you ready?" he choked out.

"For what?"

He let out a hoot of laughter, and showed her. His strokes became shorter and harder, slamming into her.

Apparently, she had been ready, because her mouth was letting out those embarrassing, whoofing grunts,

"Uh, uh, uh, uh…!"

Ian was no better. One continual moan was coming through his gritted teeth.

And then… and then her body splintered apart, starting where they were joined and spiraling out to all her extremities. Ian thrust into her one last time, arched his neck back, and spilled his seed inside her welcoming body.

For the first time in many, many years, Madrene mourned the fact that she was barren. Because this wonderful, wonderful lovemaking she'd just experienced with Ian ought to have some fruitful result. Alas, that was not to be. But she was happy nonetheless.

The man was sprawled over her heavily, panting for breath. She lowered her arms and caressed his back. "It was never like this for me afore," she told him, not sure if he was asleep or awake.

He raised his head and said, "It was never like this for me, either. I swear to God, Maddie, that is the truth."

Withdrawing his wilted manpart from inside her with a grimace of pain, or pleasure—she could not guess which—he turned so he was lying on his side. He kissed her lightly on the lips. "Thank you," he said.

"No, don't say anything. Any minute now, you will probably revert to your regular shrewish nagging.

Before that happens, I want to thank you for the most incredible sex of my life."

"Well, I have only Karl to compare you with, but you were far superior to him."

"Thank you. I think."

"Is it always like this for you?"

"Not even close." He pulled her closer so that his arm was over her shoulder and her face lying on his chest.

She tried to ignore the feeling of her breast nestled in his chest hairs. "Do you think it was a one-time thing?"

"I hope not."