Page 110 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

As if reading her thoughts, he broke off the kiss and tugged her toward him. He lowered the blanket and placed his mouth on her breast.

Amazing how such a simple act could bring so much pleasure. Losing herself to the feeling, she focused on the sensations he was eliciting from her. She was an instrument, and he was a professional musician. He knew how to draw out each note, each repose, and, as he touched her, each crescendo.

He slid his hand between her thighs, and she opened eagerly for him.

His finger pressed against her intimately.

Electricity shot through her again—an exact replica of last night’s singeing. Her orgasm was so fast and hard it robbed her of breath.

She stared at him. “How…?”

“To put it crassly, you were primed and ready to go. You’ll learn to read the signs. As you learn what you like, I’ll figure it out as well.”

As her heartbeat returned to normal, she realized she’d let go. She took him intimately in her hand, rewarded with a hiss of pleasure. “I’m ready.” Her words needed no explanation, as their meaning was clear.

“You control this. Remember that.”

His words caused her heart to stutter. Always putting her first. She hesitated. “You’ll have to show me…” Was she blushing again? A curse on her fair-skinned ancestors.

“I can do that.” He eased her onto her back, angling his head for a kiss.

Chapter forty-three

Easiersaidthandone.Oh, he knew the mechanics of having sex, but making love with Remy? He hadn’t felt this much pressure on his first wedding night. At least then he’d been an equal in the heretofore unknown journey. Now, however, he was the one who needed to exhibit both finesse and patience.

As he continued to kiss her, he moved his hand down her side, touching here, grazing there, none long enough to distract her, but enough to let her know he was there for her. He trailed his finger along her hipbone and then dipped it into her navel. When his hand moved lower, she opened to him, and he used his finger to elicit more little moans from her—making sure she was wet enough.

Resting his weight on his elbows, he eased himself over her. Breaking off the kiss, he watched as she opened her eyes. Indecision was killing him, so he aligned himself, opting to enter her with one gentle but steady thrust.

A gasp escaped her lips.

She was impossibly tight and probably uncomfortable. He cursed his stupidity and began to withdraw.

“Don’t.” The word was soft but there was steel behind it.

“Am I hurting you?”

She gritted her teeth, but she shook her head.

Her eyes were closed, and he would’ve sworn tears threatened to spill.

Why don’t they have an instruction manual for this particular situation?He wanted nothing more than to withdraw and pull her into his arms, but she’d probably read that as failure. He’d warned her about expectations. Had tried to explain that sometimes body parts didn’t do what they intended them to do. But those were just words.

As he was about to give up, she tilted her hips, drawing him in deeper. The friction alone would be enough to send him over the edge, if he wasn’t careful. He continued to watch her, relieved when her eyes opened and he found no tears.

“I’m okay.”

He wanted to believe her. More than anything else in the world. And he’d have to, because she was an adult. She wasn’t freaking out or panicking like she had the last time, so he was certain the discomfort was physical rather than emotional.

She stretched to accommodate him, and for one crazy moment he wondered if maybe he was too big. He didn’t have a lot of experience, but he liked to believe that he was, well, appropriately sized. If her discomfort continued, he’d have to try something else. He knew ways to distract her once he pulled out. He was sure he could make her climax again. Hopefully that’d be enough—

“You’re overthinking.”

He squinted. “What?”

“I can see your mind working.” She took a breath. “I won’t lie and say it didn’t hurt, because it did. But it’s feeling better. Weird, but better.” Her inner muscles clamped around him. “Remembering this is not about expectations and about the journey…show me. Trust that I’ll stop this if I have to.”

If anything, the situation was more precarious. She was placing her trust in him.

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