Page 39 of The Pirate and the Pagan
She slid from the bed until she knelt touching him. His shaft rose up between their bellies like a steel rod with a head of velvet. “Initiate me in the mysteries of sex,” she invited, and he knew in that moment that he loved this woman beyond discretion, beyond reason.
He slid his long, rampant maleness between her legs and his neck arched back as a groan of sensual pleasure escaped his lips. He slid back and forth across her lips and she gasped with hot pleasure. The slow strokes brought exquisite sensations as if she, too, were swelling; each caress made her more sensitive until she wanted to scream with excitement.
“Oh, Lord Jesus, I’ve dreamed for weeks of being deep inside you. Let me lift you onto the bed before I slide inside you,” he gasped.
She laughed. “That would be impossible, Ru, don’t tease me.”
He was swept with a wave of misgiving. She was so loving and trusting because she thought this was all he would do to her.
“Oh, I love it so much, Ru, do it again,” she begged, and arched against his hardness. She was so unbelievably eager, he knew he wanted her this way for the rest of their lives. This first time he wanted her pleasure to be so great she would remember it always. He knew he must not do anything which would bring her the slightest twinge of pain. She must not connect this intimate play with pain or even discomfort. He realized he had set himself an almost impossible task.
He lifted her to the bed, opened her legs wide, and knelt between them. His hands slid beneath her thighs and he lifted her closer until her bottom rested on his folded legs. Then with his fingertip he traced the tiny folds she offered so trustingly.
A cry of pleasure burst from her lips and she opened her knees wider to aid his ministrations. He took the head of his shaft in his hand, inserted the tip, and rotated it in a circular motion around the tiny pink bud of her womanhood. She moaned and writhed in abandon.
“Dear God … don’t move,” he ordered, and she stopped for the space of two heartbeats. It was enough for him to clamp an iron control on himself and continue the slow, delicious, circular rhythm.
He watched her face, watched her eyelids become heavy with the enormity of her pleasure, and her head moved from side to side as she begged, “Ruark, please, please.” She knew not for what she begged, but mercifully he did. Deliberately he stopped moving around her bud in a clockwise direction and started circling it the opposite way. Immediately she quivered as if something had exploded between her legs and the opening of her sheath closed over his tip in convulsive possession.
His mouth tasted hers as she cried his name. “Did you like that, little love?”
“Oh, Ru, I loved it … and you really did slide inside me,” she said with wonder.
He swallowed hard and drew a couple of ragged breaths. “We’ll go a little deeper next time,” he ventured, to carefully gauge her reaction.
“I have so many questions,” she said breathlessly.
He breathed deeply to quiet his raging lust. “Ask me anything, love.”
“Can … can we do it tomorrow in daylight or do we have to wait until bed?”
“God’s flesh, we don’t have to wait five minutes.” He lowered his mouth to kiss the softness on the inside of her knees, then opened her legs again to fit himself between. This time he placed his thumbs on either side of the pretty pink lips between her legs and gently pressed until she opened a little. He pushed the smooth, marblelike head of his long shaft inside her opening until he felt her stretch and then withdrew it. He did this over and over with a slow rhythm that set up a singing in her blood.
Her sheath felt like velvet and she was so fevered she scalded him each time he entered. He did it over and over and each time imperceptibly his thumbs forced the opening wider so he could penetrate a little bit deeper. Finally he could see she could take half his length without pain, but any more than four inches of shaft would have torn her hymen.
She grew so aroused and frenzied he almost lost control and drove himself to the hilt, but he was discovering that he loved her with his heart and soul as well as his body and knew he must sacrifice some of his pleasure to bring her to exquisite bliss. She was half-mad with passion, crying and biting his shoulders with sharp little teeth, then he felt her muscles spasm all the way down her legs and she arched up off the bed to impale herself on him, but he had grasped his shaft instantly to withdraw it.
His shudder was ten times more violent than hers. She looked down to where they had been joined and saw with amazement the hot, thick lovemilk spurt inside her. He collapsed onto her and she welcomed his weight, but when he rolled beside her, she mourned the loss and rolled against him.
The tips of her breasts burned holes in his chest and his shaft was scalded by the heat between her legs. He whispered smoldering love words which told her in explicit, decadent detail what he was going to do to her. He told her how it would make her feel, how it would make him want more. He told her how long he was going to make love to her and how many times he was going to make love to her and how many different ways he was going to make love to her. His hands explored every soft curve until she moaned and writhed and arched and finally screamed her need.
Her scream told him that her mouth needed his attention and he took it in a demanding kiss, parting her lips to thrust his tongue in deliciously deep. Then her tongue fought his until finally he relented a little and allowed her entry into his mouth.
As they lay breathlessly entwined, Ruark said wickedly, “I’ve just had a diabolical thought. Perhaps I should keep you virgin for the whole honeymoon. I should keep you at the peak of your arousal so that you would respond to my lightest touch. When I take you to Stowe, it would drive the other men mad to watch you touch me, cling to me, hunger for me.”
She sat up in the bed and gazed down at him in disbelief. “I’m still virgin?”
“Technically, yes … I haven’t yet taken your maidenhead.”
“And you want to keep on doing this every night of our honeymoon?”
“No, darling love, I’m just teasing you.”
“I don’t mind, Ru darling, but I think it only fair to keep you at the peak of your arousal, too,” she teased. She slid down his body until her face was on a level with his flat belly, then she probed his navel with her pink tongue and he was lost, lost.
“If you want the truth, I could not summon that kind of control again if my very life depended on it. In truth, I can wait no longer,” he said, pushing her back upon the pillows, towering over her with the blood beating in his throat, his loins, even the soles of his feet.
“Will there be pain?” she asked softly, not really afraid.
