release. After her first shocked response to his laughter, she began to laugh too, and in convulsions she fell over his chest, her glorious hair fanning out across his chest, tickling him.
When he had himself under a semblance of control, he tried to answer her question. ‘I am flattered that you think me large, but I assure you, I am only somewhat more than average. Your body will accommodate me easily, when you are ready. More thoughts?’
‘Can I touch it?’
‘Most assuredly.’ He tried to lie patiently as she made her slow and tentative approach. When her fingers finally grazed the full length of him, he groaned.
‘Why does it jump like that?’ Her fingers stroked him again, this time with more confidence.
‘I do not know. It is just part of the reproductive urge pulsing through me.’ He didn’t think she was ready for the scientific explanation anytime soon. Neither was he. Every sense was on high alert, waiting for her next move. He could barely remember his own name.
When the pleasure she was giving him became almost too much, he gently removed her hand, and laid her back on the bed. Very slowly, he began his own exploration of her body with his mouth. Everywhere he kissed and tasted her, she squirmed, and her breathing becoming a little faster and more laboured. Her little moans grew louder.
When he stroked her inner thighs with his fingers, she automatically drew her legs together.
‘Let me. Nothing is wrong or sinful, remember.’
Reluctantly, she relaxed her thighs, and let him spread her legs. Her triangular thatch of tight curls was dark golden, and he cupped it with the palm of one hand. She bucked against him, surprised and excited by the touch. When he slid a finger deep into her welcoming heat, she became very still, her breathing harsh, her eyes half closed.
It had been an extraordinarily long time since he had pleasured a woman. But the skills he’d master as a youth came back to him automatically. He knew exactly what to do to take her higher, and he did it with pride and confidence. His English Rose was burning bright now, her excitement and pleasure reaching fever pitch.
Using the honey of her body, he stroked her hardened nub with his thumb and felt her muscles contract around his finger. Feverishly, she tried to push his hand away, and yet draw it closer, all at the same time. Her movements were jerky and flustered, as if she didn’t know what to do about the sensations coursing through her body. Then his persistence paid off as she cried out, and she shot up off the bed as she peaked for the first time.
Laughing with delight, he waited for her to relax, and then slipped a second finger deep into her wet heat. Moving his fingers to mimic the dance, he pushed her over the edge again. When she lay quiescent once more, he removed his hand, and replaced it with his own aching arousal. Stretching her was torturous pleasure, and when she grimaced with pain he pushed past the virginal barrier as quickly as he could, so the discomfort was brief.
Then, when he had joined their bodies completely, he looked down into her face, holding onto his control by a thread. Her fawn eyes stared up at him in amazement, and then she smiled the most impish of smiles. Wordlessly, he dropped his head to claim her smiling lips once more, and was rewarded by the intrusion of her little tongue into his mouth.
It was too much. He drew back and then thrust deep, drew back and thrust deep again, feeling the slick friction building. Then it was only sensation, as he raced toward his own release. And when it came, he felt as if the top of his head was blown off, and he spun out into the Universe.
Liv lay beneath the heavy weight of her husband, feeling strangely dissociated from the world around her. For some timeless period, she had been pure sensation. Thoughts were forgotten, boundaries forgotten, conventions unknown. There had been nothing but Rene’s pounding strength battering her soft shores until even that distinction faded away, and she was the pounding strength, too. She was everything. And nothing. And it was so overwhelming that, for a while at least, she blacked out.
Her sisters had lied to her. The marriage bed was not painful, nor was it passingly pleasant. Pleasant was such an insipid word for what they had just shared. It had