Page 88 of The Sound of Seduction
And he just wanted to push on but not with her.
Never with Wendy.
She sucked her lips in, let go of him and used both hands to part her folds. Stan had to stabilize himself with both hands and gripped the covers, realizing he had never even offered her the comfort of the blanket.
And then it just happened.
She made a tiny noise like a sudden hiccup.
And he was buried to the hilt.
A second.
A minute.
He wasn’t sure how long exactly they waited.
“No blood?” she asked, rubbing her fingers around the exact fusion of their bodies.
“There might be.”
And to his utter surprise, she relaxed as if she had visibly melted into him.
And on the inside, she accommodated him as if they’d been made to fit each other perfectly.
“Teach me,” she whispered and let go. She wrapped her hands around his neck.
“It’s my honor,” Stan managed.
“Now, I’m not a virgin anymore,” she said, curling the corners of her mouth downward.
“But you’ll be my princess forever.”
Stan couldn’t stop his hands now, one sliding up the line of her back. The other remained at her thigh, his fingers splayed wide to feel the full warmth of her. Every inch of her pliant form against his drove him deeper into a place where only they existed—both untethered from duty, from reason, from time itself.
“I love you and will try to live up to the honor you give me,” she said.
“You don’t know what you do to me, Wendy,” he mumbled softly against her lips, his voice raw with awe, the truth of his words stark in his every breath. “The honor is all mine. You’re all mine now.” She was all he wanted, all he needed, and he would spend forever proving it to her if she’d allow him.
Her response was wordless—a tilt of her head, the press of her lips trailing his jaw, the delicate curve of her body yielding to him perfectly. Each movement spoke louder than words, and Stan knew, with every steady beat of his heart, that this moment—this extraordinary, infinite moment—was his to cherish forever.
He’d waited for this. He’d wait forever.
He held on, barely. The curve of her body pressed against him, skin to skin. He couldn’t ignore the feeling—soft, warm, effortless. Sliding a hand up her thigh, he whispered her name, his voice vibrating low in his chest.
“You’ve something boyish about you when you’re unguarded,” she said suddenly, fingers feathering along his jawline.
Stan laughed, his forehead resting briefly against her own. “I have only mischief in mind right now,” he admitted softly, tilting her chin up. He caught her startled gasp with his mouth, kissing her deeply, until all that remained between them was pleasure and the soft hum of the oil lamp.
And as their laughter melted into the kiss, the world beyond the glow of the oil lamp faded, leaving only the promise of a future as boundless and bright as the love they had found in each other.
Epilogue
Wendy awoke asthe first golden light of dawn seeped softly into the room, filtering through the thin curtains and brushing her skin with warmth. She drew the shawl from last night’s gown snug around her, her fingers grazing the silk threads that slid against the bare curve of her shoulder. Beneath the fabric, her body still hummed, alive with the memory of Stan’s touch. She felt the goosebumps of his hand on her waist, the press of his lips at her neck. Each mark, each kiss lingered like an invisible thread tying the night to this very moment—the first day in the future they’d promised to one another.
The windowpane was cool beneath her fingertips as she gazed out over the sprawling garden. The lawn shimmered with dew, fragile and fleeting in the glow of the rising sun. She took a deep breath, tasting the wild sweetness of the earth mingling with the faint grassy air she loved so much. The tranquility stretched before her, vast and serene, and yet, her heart was full—not with peace, but with an ache so deep it bordered on joy.
Behind her, soft rustling and the creak of wood reached her ears. She turned her head slightly, and her heart gave the smallest flutter as she caught Stan shifting in the bed. His bare torso rose just above the crumpled sheets, his dark hair in wild disarray, his eyes half-lidded and dreamy as they sought her out. He stretched, the golden light painting him in warm hues, and when his gaze landed on her, the corners of his mouth turned upward into a lazy, lopsided grin.
