Page 64 of Murder on the SS Leviathan
‘Cecile?’ His voice was rasping, needing her to tell him she was alright.
‘Are you? Is that everything?’ She was holding very still.
’Not all, no.’ He groaned inwardly. He’d known, hadn’t he, that this wouldn’t be easy. Naturally, she’d no notion of what it felt like to have a man fully buried inside her.
Nevertheless, she was slippery. He could tell that, if she didn’t tense against him, he’d slide home.
Gently, so gently, he tried for a rhythm, gaining entry a little further each time, taking care to press so that the upper side of his shaft would rub where she was most sensitive.
Beneath him, she breathed unevenly but her hands had found their way back to his buttocks and the way her nails scraped told him she didn’t want him to stop.
He’d yet to give her half his length, but she could surely feel how wonderful this was—this closeness, of being joined together.
Stroking that beautiful place inside her, he murmured endearments: he would spend his life bringing her happiness, sharing everything that he was with her. He was determined it would be true—and, their lovemaking would get better, with time, as her body grew accustomed to his.
Already, their movement was easier and Cecile was lifting her hips to meet him, gasping and retreating, then pushing forward again.
Her breasts were grazing his chest and her skin was so soft, and she was so very wet. Suddenly, he was sliding deeper, and her leg came up, grasping at the back of his.
Her eyes flew wide open, and she gave a sharp cry.
It was the sign he’d been waiting for.
Shaking, he gave in to the all-consuming bliss of release, the rush of pleasure and searing heat.
* * *
‘Warm enough?’ Lance drew Cecile against his chest.
Drowsily, she murmured her assent. In fact, she’d pushed her foot out from under the quilt in an attempt to balance the radiance of Lance’s body. With him curled around her, there was no chance of feeling chill.
Nibbling his way up her neck to her ear, he whispered a suggestion which ought to have made her blush but only sounded intriguing.
After the first time, which had been surprising and somewhat painful, at least at first, he’d shown her something she certainly hadn’t imagined, and then something else equally wonderful.
‘Unless you’re tired.’ Lifting the hair from her nape, he nuzzled there.
‘I don’t think I’ll ever be tired of this, or you.’ She sighed contentedly. ‘It was all marvellous. Now I know why Maud never wants Henry to leave the bedroom.’
Lance laughed softly in the darkness.
There was nothing awkward as he rolled her atop him and she bent to take his kiss.
There was nowhere else she wanted to be.
Only here.
Only with him.
