Page 63 of Who Wants to Marry a Duke
Dear Lord.
She reached out to touch it, and it twitched as if it had a mind of its own. Thorn caught her hand. “Not now, sweeting, or I won’t be able to do this right, I swear.”
“There’s a right way and a wrong way?”
“Yes. Sort of.” He moved closer. “Lie down, Olivia, and I’ll show you the right way.” He added, under his breath, “Assuming I can survive that long.”
So she did as he bade, and the next thing she knew he was kneeling between her legs and looming over her.
“You’re sure that you want this?” he asked.
“How can I be sure if I’ve never done it?”
He groaned. “I can stop now before anything happens, if that’s what you want.”
Too much had already happened. She refused to go back. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.
“Thank God,” he said hoarsely, then pressed the tip of his . . . hismemberinside her and began to inch his way farther in.
At first it was maddening. It didn’t seem to fit at all.
He must have thought the same thing. “You’re so tight, sweeting. So warm and wet and tight.”
“Are you certain this is therightway?”
“Oh, yes, trust me,” he choked out. “It’s as right as it can be . . . for me. But I don’t imagine the first time . . . feels wonderful to a virgin. I’ll try to make . . . it better for you.”
Grabbing a pillow, he then lifted her hips enough to get it under her. She wasn’t sure why, but the change in position did improve matters.
“Better?” he growled.
She nodded. She couldn’t speak, consumed by the sensation of having him so intimately joined to her. He seemed to grow bigger inside her the farther he went. But then he reached down to rub the hard knot that seemed to hold all her enjoyable sensations, and like a dam bursting, pleasure flooded her.
With a gasp, she arched against his finger, while he began to pull out, then thrust in, over and over in an exquisite, unfamiliar rhythm. This was out of her realm of experience, and all she could do was clasp the well-wrought arms that held him above her and pray he took her with him to wherever he was going.
Because he was definitely going somewhere, what with his muscles straining and his face flushing. Now she began to feel as if she too was going somewhere. His quickening strokes drubbed that knot of pleasure even more, and his eyes burned into hers with such intensity that she was soon gasping and sighing and arching up to meet his thrusts, eager for every delicious feeling searing its way through her.
“Ah, my . . . lovely dear. You’re killing me. You feel . . . sodamnedgood.”
“So do you,” she answered, and realized it wasn’t a lie. “This is . . . amazing.”
It was. Shocks of heat radiated through her, growing bigger, stronger, hotter until suddenly they arced inside her, making her cry out from the intensity of her ecstasy.
As if that set off his own release, he drove into her with a hoarse cry of his own, then spilled himself inside her. As he lay atop her, his body still joined to hers and his head cradled in the bend of her neck, a contentment stole over her that was beyond anything she’d ever felt. She belonged here, with him. He might not realize it yet, but she did.
That was enough. For now.
Thorn lay beside her, his heart no longer thundering and his body replete with satisfaction. Yet he wanted her again. And again and again and again.
It made no sense. Nine years ago, he would have been panicked, knowing that a marriage was now in his future. Hell, he’d been panicked back then after they’d been caught kissing. Instead, he felt nothing but contentment. And a faint echo of his earlier desire.
If he made love to her again, he could do it with less urgency and more care. But that was a mad train of thought. It implied that he . . .neededher. And he didn’t need anyone.
He looked down to where her naked body was curled against him, and his blood roused at just the sight. God, he was in trouble now. He reached over to grab the other side of the coverlet and, for the sake of his sanity, pulled it over the parts of her he found tempting. Although honestly, if he followed that logic, he’d be covering her from head to toe.
Her response was to lay her head on his bare shoulder. “That was not what I expected.”
He didn’t even have to ask what “that” referred to. “Worse? Or better?”
