With the first brush of his lips against Enid’s, he was already drunk. In his haste to have another sip of her, he lost the coordination of his hands. With one hand still cupped behind the back of her neck, he used his other to cup her chin. As he pulled her to him, the angle was off, and their noses bumped.
Enid’s forehead wrinkled. Geraint knew he should stop and give her a moment. Perhaps even step back and give her space.
But he was already drunk on her. Along with his loss of coordination, his good judgment was also gone. The only good idea he could come up with was to kiss the creases at her temple to smooth them.
Turned out it was the right decision. He felt Enid sigh against him. The heat of her breath touched the column of his neck as she relaxed into his hold.
Geraint trailed soft kisses from her brow down her long, regal nose. His lips lingered at the pert tip which he’d gracelessly assaulted. That earned him another gratified sigh.
Lifting his lips from the tip of her nose, Geraint hovered over her lips for a moment. His good judgment was not fully restored, not with the taste of her still on the tip of his tongue. He had just enough presence of mind to hesitate from kissing her again, less he wound up sloshed and wasted on the floor like a tosspot who was unable to handle his alcohol.
Geraint instead bent his face to her collarbone. That bone had a slight S-curve that made him think of a vine twining up a beanpole. He brushed his lips against the slight dip and was met with the same punch of sweetness as her lips.
The sugar of her rushed to his head, turning his vision blurry. He felt like he would lose his balance. But he did not. He held on to her, tightly pulling Enid’s lithe body into his. She came to him willingly. She came to him with a moan on her breath.
One hand went to her breast, cupping the full mound into his palm. His other hand found the small of her back and pressed her into his rock-hard erection. There was no maiden gasp of surprise. There was no wide-eyed alarm. She’d told him she’d done this before.
He didn’t want to think of that. Not now. Not ever. Not when she was all his from now until forever.
Still, somewhere inside of him, the honorable man that Geraint was surfaced his head to ask, "Are you certain this is what you want?"
In response, Enid blinked. Or at least he thought she blinked. Things on the outside of his head were still hazy. Whenever Geraint drank with his friends, he never got a buzz. Instead, the spirits relaxed him, making him a bit drowsy.
The honey-wine taste of his wife did not have that effect. Geraint felt wide awake, energized, and more aroused than he’d ever been in his long life.
“Are you uncertain what to do?” she asked.
Geraint blinked. In that blink of his eyes, he sobered so quickly that it left his head aching.
“Because I can show you…” Enid’s voice trailed off as her gaze dipped to his trousers. His very tight, very tented trousers.
“I know what to do,” Geraint said, leaning back. Not only did he know exactly what he wanted to do with her, his eager cock was ready to get started without him.
“There’s no shame in being inexperienced,” Enid continued as if she hadn’t heard him. Her hands were raised in front of his chest. It was the same posture she’d taken when she’d attacked him with vines so long ago. Though no thorns shot from her fingertips, her words cut him deep.
“I know what to do,” Geraint repeated, enunciating each word.
Enid looked up at him doubtfully. She gave him a clenched half smile as her eyes softened. She opened her mouth to speak again, but before she could utter another word, Geraint dropped to one knee.
He found the hem of her dress. With deft fingers, he lifted the garment up, exposing her ankles. There had been a time when a woman exposing this teasing part of her legs would have been the height of scandal and had men crossing their legs or turning their backs to hide erections.
Geraint slid the dress up higher. His hands cupped toned calves before dipping into the divot at the back of her knees. A glance up showed him that Enid watched him, gaze narrowed as though she was trying to view his actions without judgment. Or trying to figure out exactly what he was doing with her legs, which wasn’t the exact target.
Give him time, he wanted to say. Instead of speaking, Geraint raised the folds of her gown yet higher until his thumbs brushed the indentation where her long, shapely legs gave way to her supple ass cheeks.
She gasped then, a slight smile at the corner of her lips. The light in her eyes was encouraging, as though letting him know he was getting warmer.
Oh, he was just warming up, all right.
Cupping her ass cheeks in each of his hands, Geraint tugged Enid to him. This time, when his nose bumped into her, she gasped in an entirely different way.
If the taste of her lips against his had made him drunk, the scent of her core going directly up and into his nostrils made him instantly high. Geraint had never done a drug a day in his life. This day, he knew that no narcotic, no poison, no medicinal, and no herb would ever take him to the heights of euphoria he’d just found between Enid’s thighs.
She was bare there. Hairless and without any form of underwear. He supposed fairies wore no undergarments as part of their culture. Though when he drew closer to Enid’s core, he found her dripping wet with the sweetest nectar known to mankind.
He’d planned to use his finesse as he licked her. He’d planned to show her his skill as a lover as he took his time and made her beg. All of his plans went out the window at his first lick.
They both let out a strangled groan. Hers sounded like an animal who’d been captured and knew it was at the mercy of a great beast. His sounded like a great beast who would show no mercy.